Chapter 5 An Experiment in Tasting Assholes and Finding Them Surprisingly Bitter
By the time he came back to the table, I may as well have been in chain mail, I was so ready for battle.
He plunked down my pint.
I looked at it, then at his crotch.
“Thanks,” I said, then remembered I was supposed to be rude. “Least you could do.”
“Excuse me?”
I raised my eyebrows and sipped.
“Is that going to be okay for ye?”
“It’s good, thanks. Sweet and mild, the way I like it.” I stared pointedly. “I prefer tall drinks that aren’t so sour they make your whole body pucker.”
His brow wrinkled, but he didn’t respond, clearly thrown off.
That’s right. En garde, hot stuff!
“So, tell me. What is there to do here in Lisdoonvarna?”
He sighed. “You’re looking at it.” He leaned back in the bench and gestured vaguely at the beer and music. The craic, if my research had served me.
“Am I?” I let my eyes travel up his body. “Pickin’s are slim. If this is all there is to do here, I’d better get a stepladder.”
He blinked but didn’t attack me back. Is it not working? Am I insult-flirting wrong? I should have done more research! I beat back a little wave of panic and filled the silence.
“So, then. What do you do for a living, Tige?” It was a totally normal question, but I put a little distaste in my voice to keep the flirting on track.
“I’m a farmer. Like I said.”
“A farmer? What kind? Potato?” I winked.
His eyes narrowed. “Sheep.”
As it turns out, you don’t have to unclench your jaw even a tiny bit to say the word “sheep.”
“Sheep, huh? Well, that explains the smell.”
It didn’t. He smelled like something delicious that I wanted to roll in like a naughty dog. This time, I saw the slap make contact. That’s right, big boy. Pull my pigtails.
But before he could respond a young man placed a couple of menus in front of us. “Good evening. Oh, hiya, Tadhg. Good to see ye.”
My date turned and blinked, his narrowed eyes softened, and then his face totally transformed to something I hadn’t yet seen.
“Connell! I didn’t know you were working the season, mate.”
“Ah, well, you know.”
“How’s your mam been keeping?”
“Oh, she’s better. Ye know. Every day a little better.”
“That’s really good to hear. She’s lucky to have ye, mate.
And Dublin will still be there when summer’s over.
” I tried to focus on my menu and stop eavesdropping, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from my date behaving like a nice person.
“Would you tell her from me that I’ll be ’round tomorrow to fix that gate if she’ll promise to keep Finn company for me.
Finn can’t get enough of your ma.” Interesting! Who’s Finn?
“She’ll be really happy to hear that. Thanks, Tadhg.” The server broke conversation then and looked at me, as if suddenly noticing I was there. “Oh, wow—the dating game, right?” He laughed. “I heard about that!”
“Christ, of course you did. It’s already been ten whole minutes.”
“Good on ye, I say. Can I get yous something to eat, then?”
“I guess you should.” Tadhg’s voice made it very clear that he was not at all interested in sharing a meal with me, but he ordered anyway. “I’ll take the fish and chips.”
Mmm. Real Irish fish and chips!
“Me too, thanks.”
“If you like seafood, you might think of trying the fish pie,” Tadhg suggested to me from out of nowhere, surprising me with thoughtfulness. “It’s amazing here. Why don’t we get them both and share?”
He was being nice. That was the opposite of what I wanted.
I couldn’t let us stray into non-sexy-banter territory and end up with one of those polite job-interview dates.
What was the best way to play this? I had no idea, but they were both staring at me, so I grabbed for the first stupid thing that popped into my head.
I grimaced. “I don’t know, Tige. If you want me to share my fish pie on the first date, the banter’s going to have to do a whole lot better than this.” Ew! Gross. Why is that where my mind went? This is Simone’s fault for always joking about fish tacos! Whatever. Maintain eye contact.
His neck went red and his mouth tightened. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I would never! I was flattering you.”
“Right. Bring her the fish and chips. I’ll get the pie, and she can try some of mine if she can shut her mouth long enough to chew it.”
Ha! Success! Back on track!
The server gave a little nervous laugh. “Right. A fish pie and a fish and chips, then.”
“And another round of drinks,” Tadhg added. “Keep ’em comin’.”
That’s right! Because we’re neck deep in flirt city! Fast train to pound town!
The wooden paneling groaned against his shoulders as he leaned back and assessed me, probably trying to keep up with the tone shift.
His gaze snagged for a second on the low scoop of my tank top.
Message received, Tiger! I almost smiled but caught it just in time.
I was just starting to make some headway and didn’t want to spoil the game by being friendly!
“And yourself?” I saw the muscles of his jaw work. “What do you do other than insult people you’ve only just met?”
“Ah, you’re smarter than you look—they’re one and the same. I host a dating podcast, actually. So I’m getting paid to do this.”
“Really? A dating podcast? You? Is it a ‘how not to’ sort of thing? How does that work?”
Zing! Oh, it is SO on!
“I go on terrible dates with people—dates like this one, come to think of it—and then we quantify what we can and analyze the data for the show.”
“Yeah? Any luck figuring out what the common denominator is yet?” Oh my God! This is totally working. The common denominator was me, obviously, but I wasn’t about to break character just when things were getting good!
“Yeah. I checked the science. Turns out the problem is the men I pick. Even when there are only three choices.”
This is fun! All my flirting should be like this from now on. I see you, Ireland! I’m a convert!
“Funny. I explicitly remember telling you not to pick me. I’m still baffled as to why you can’t take simple instruction.”
“Community service. If I didn’t take you out, you’d never get off the farm, would you?” Oh my God, I am fucking killing this! Time to double down. “Tell me. Is it true what they say about farmers and sheep?”
His eyes narrowed. They bored into me. “Tell me, Maya. What do they say about farmers and sheep, then?”
Ugh. God, that rough voice of his! The way he says my name in italics is like a salty little pretzel!
“Oh, I think you know. Probably all too well, if I had to guess.”
“Enlighten me.”
I shrugged. “Why go out and waste your money on a date when you have two hundred at home?”
If I hadn’t known we were flirting each other’s pants off, I might actually have been afraid of the look he gave me.
He looked furious. And with those big arms of his, he could snap me like a twig.
Yes, please! Was he thinking the same thing?
My stomach fluttered with the thrill of it.
We might end up in bed together tonight, if we can keep this up.
I raised my eyebrows and took a slow, sensuous drag of my pint while I locked eyes with him over the rim.
He put his massive hands on the table and slowly stood up. This was an invitation! He felt it too. My heart pounded.
“Right. I’ve had about as much of this as I can take.” His voice was so low and husky I nearly swooned. It was rough and animalistic. He was turned on. So was I!
I put my bag strap on my shoulder and stood. “Come on. Why don’t we get out of here and pick up some vitamin E for your penis.”
He froze. “What? What the actual feck are you talking about?”
I accidentally let out an awkward laugh that shattered the vibe. “You know. Because I need some help getting rid of my tumbleweeds.”
Shit! I’d fumbled it. He probably didn’t get the reference. I had gotten too excited and lost my head. Fix it!
“Look. I definitely don’t have time for whatever the hell this is.
Congratulations. You’ve outdone yourself.
This is the very worst date anyone’s had in human history.
I can’t wait to hear all about it on the fecking podcast.” He’d really leaned on those words, and I’d felt every one of them in my gut.
“Wait. What?” My mouth fell open. Is this part of the game? What do I do? Why did Aisling Bea not prepare me for this?
He put his wallet in his back pocket and started to go.
“Wait? Is this for real? Are you actually angry?”
He stopped. Answered like I was an idiot. “Yeah. I’m actually angry.”
“Really?” Oh crap! “But why? I’m sorry. I thought we were . . . you know . . . doing a thing.”
His whole face drew in with something that might have been disgust. “A thing? What kind of thing is that? Insulting each other until one of us storms off? Yeah. Okay. You win.”
“No. I—I thought we were having a great time.” Shit again! “Why are you mad?”
“Why? Well, to begin with, Maya, because you picked me for this fecking charade of a date when there were two other willing eejits you could have chosen.”
“You’re mad because I picked you? You took part in a dating game. You had a one-in-three chance!”
“This town finally got tired of talking about my personal life. Do you have any idea how many texts I’ve gotten in the last fifteen minutes?
” He held up his phone. “Look at that! Thirty-two. The lads are having a field day with this. I’m surprised they haven’t arrived en masse to watch the train wreck yet.
No doubt they’ll be here any minute. So you’ll have plenty of options to fill my chair and rip the guts out of the next sacrifice for your podcast.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. I didn’t ruin this date for the podcast. I was being a jerk because you were being a jerk! Since the very first question back there, you have done nothing but be rude and insulting. I thought it was a thing. I thought you were flirting. I was trying to play along.”
“You thought I was flirting? I was being rude so that you wouldn’t pick me! I thought I made it pretty goddamn clear. I literally came out and said it. And yet here I fucking am.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that anyone could be that rude to a total stranger in earnest? I’m not from here!”
“All right, look. I’m just gonna go. I’ll tell them to put all of this on my tab. You can keep that gift certificate there and use it to lure in the next victim.”
Okay, this was an obvious misunderstanding.
I had explained it to him, and he was still being a dick and a half!
He was mad that I’d picked him and people were going to talk about it?
I didn’t force him up there! I didn’t have to sit there and be shouted at when I had already explained myself and apologized.
“Fine! Maybe I will.”
“Perfect. Just do me a favor—if you see me in town, don’t say hello.”
But he still had to shimmy his huge body between the bench and the table to get out. And that gave me just enough time to get in one last dig.
“Sure. Well, you do me a favor. When the entire town asks how the dinner went, tell them I tried the lemon tart and it tasted like asshole.”
He stormed off in a cloud of fury so dark, I thought lightning might strike me.
Conclusion: date unsuccessful.
Uncontrollable variable: my inability to recognize that stand-up comedians make for unreliable life coaches.
Once the lemon-tart asshole was gone, I switched seats and settled back into the little alcove.
The musicians had continued, seemingly oblivious to our blind-date apocalypse just a few feet away.
I let out a contented sigh. This is lovely, actually.
I wish he’d left sooner. A little peace and quiet was exactly what I needed.
I rearranged the pillows and settled in as Connell brought two gargantuan dinners just for me.
Those chips were the biggest I’d ever seen in my whole life. They were crisp and pillowy and melt-in-your-mouth delicious and topped with crispy fresh fish fried to perfection.
He was right about the fish pie. I hated that he was right! A cheesy cream sauce was thick with salmon and shrimp and other delicious seafoods and topped with, rather than dough, mashed potatoes and popped into the oven until golden and bubbling.
This was the date I really wanted. Just me. Having a threesome with these two entrées.
I ordered two slices of bramble crumble on my tab to add to the to-go haul and texted Jackie.
I’m bringing home dinner from the tavern. What can I order for you?
LOVELY THE STEAK PIE THANKS I’LL BE ROUND WITH YOUR BAG TO PICK YOU UP IN TWENTY
And then I thoroughly enjoyed what was left of my evening.