“Right, well, pace yourself during your stay,” he said taking his receipt from the cashier. He had to leave. He had to get in his car and drive away from here.

“Thank you, Aiden,” she said with a grin. “Maybe I’ll bump into you again.”

Jesus, she’s adorable. He laughed a little too loud as he slowly pushed his cart toward the exit. The chance was slipping away, but she hadn’t given him any indication that this was an appropriate moment to ask where she was staying. It didn’t matter what country she was from, women generally didn’t like it when strange men took an intense interest in them.

Before he knew it, Aiden was in the busy parking lot, loading his bags into the boot of his car. It was for the best. Antonia was an American tourist after all. She would go back home just like the rest of them. There was no sense in mourning something he’d ultimately lose to citizenship. In his car, he gave himself another look in the rearview mirror. It didn’t help that he probably looked like the wild man his mother described. Chances were, she was being polite to him while waiting on him to leave. He scratched at his beard. It had been awhile since he’d been in a position to flirt with a woman. He worried he’d sounded a little insane as well.

Carefully maneuvering his way out of the parking lot and onto the street, Aiden tried to put the woman out of his mind. It proved to be difficult as he repeatedly checked his mirrors for the SuperValu entrance. He didn’t see her exit, but he could still feel the softness of her hand from their brief handshake. Her black mane of wild curls and her laughing eyes taunted him. The glow of her brown skin was imprinted on his memory. I should have said something.

Chapter Nine

“Recalculating...recalculating...”

Antonia glanced at the GPS that chastised her wrong turn. Somewhere along N59, she misunderstood the machine and made a poorly-timed exit. She pulled over to the narrow shoulder of the road and surveyed her environment. She was slowly getting used to driving on the left side of the road, but its narrowness was still daunting. All of the rugged beauty that Antonia drove through would have been more enjoyable from the passenger’s side. You’re doing this alone.

“Recalculating...” the mechanical voice of the GPS reminded her.

“I get it, you obnoxious bitch.” At the beginning of her drive, the British female voice was pleasant enough for her to name it “Vera.” Somewhere close to Clifden, “Vera” had changed to “you dumb bitch.” Variations of the phrase were screamed shortly after she departed the city.

Antonia thought, for a moment, to make a quick U-turn. She had only driven a couple miles past her blunder, but the sharp bends around the small mountain made visibility nearly impossible. She doubted her skill with the stick shift, knowing she couldn’t do it fast enough. She heaved a sigh and checked her mirrors before merging back onto the road, intending to find someone’s driveway to pull into so she could double-back. But the distance between houses was quite far. She had passed plenty of pastures and herds of sheep, but no houses. Antonia grew worried about the length of her mistake. How long would it take to readjust?