She hands it back to me. “I really want to go with you guys,” she says with tears brimming her lids, breaking my heart. If it were up to me, she would be getting on that plane with us, but Quinn is her mom, which means it’s up to her, and I have to respect her decision.
“I know, but your mom doesn’t want you to miss school. After I ask her, I promise we’ll Facetime you on your iPad, though. Okay?”
“Okay,” she agrees.
“Kins, you’re awake?” Quinn comes jogging down the stairs with her laptop under her arm and her cord in her hand.
“I wanted to say bye.” Kinsley wraps her arms around her mom’s waist. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she says with heavy emotion clogged in her throat. It takes everything in me not to beg Quinn to let her go with us. She might not be my daughter, but I’ve grown to love her as if she’s mine, and I hate the idea of her being upset in any way.
“Oh, sweetie. I’m going to miss you too. I’ll Facetime you every day. I love you.”
“Okay, love you more.”
“C’mon, Kins,” Skyla says, making her presence known. “Since you’re up early, why don’t we get ready and go to breakfast before school? We can go to our favorite donut shop.” She waggles her eyebrows, and Kinsley’s frown turns right side up.
“Okay! Bye, Mom! Bye, Lachlan,” she yells, running up the stairs.
“Thank you,” Quinn says to Skyla, giving her a hug.
“You’re welcome. Have a good trip.” She smirks at me, and I stifle a laugh. She was sleeping on the couch, so my guess is she heard Kinsley and I talking, and she knows I’m planning to propose.
* * *
The six hour flight to Dublin was spent with Quinn wrapped up in my arms while we talked, flirted, an even made out. Purchasing first class tickets was the best decision I could’ve made. With only the two of us sitting next to each other, the flight was actually enjoyable. Since Ireland is five hours ahead of New York, we arrive at six p.m., and after renting a vehicle—where I splurged and got a BMW M5—the same model as mine, only newer—we drive the two hours from Dublin to Galway.
When we pull up to the Glenlo Abbey Hotel, Quinn is lying back in her seat, but when she spots the two-story manor that’s situated on several acres of lush green property, she pops up and gasps. I chose this hotel because I knew she would love the restored castle. It was originally a church, and then it was bought and turned into one of the most luxurious hotels in Galway. Tourists, who aren’t even staying here, will make the drive just to get a look at the castle in person. I imagined Quinn taking a million pictures here.
“Lachlan,” she breathes, “this place is amazing! This is where we’re staying?”
“It is…but only for two nights. My mom asked that we stay with her the night before the wedding and the next night.”
“We could’ve stayed there the entire time.”
“I know, but I wanted some time with you alone.”
We pull around to the side of one of the bays, and park, so we can go check in. Quinn, as I expected, pulls her camera out of her carry-on and starts snapping pictures as we walk up the steps. “I can’t believe how gorgeous this hotel is. It looks like an old church.”
“It’s a restored church,” I tell her. “Wait until you see the inside.”
We’re greeted by a butler who takes our luggage and guides us to the front desk. When I give the woman my name, she confirms we’re staying for two nights in the Grand Suite. I hand her my credit card, and when she gives me the total, Quinn gasps. I was hoping she wouldn’t know the Euro to US dollar rate conversion, but judging by the look on her face, she knows. Quinn and I haven’t talked money—not what she or I have. I know she’s well off by the car she drives and the designer labels she wears, but we haven’t had an actual conversation about it. Truth be told, I don’t really give a shit about money, which is why I rarely spend any, and is probably the reason I have so much of it.
After taking the key, and being told our luggage will be brought up shortly, we head upstairs to our room. Quinn is quiet the entire time, and I know she’s itching to ask how in the world I’m able to afford luxuries like a BMW, a condo in Hell’s Kitchen, first class tickets to Ireland, and a hotel that costs a night what some pay a month for their mortgage.
When we step into the suite, Quinn stops in her place to take it all in. The entire suite is over six hundred square feet with a separate living room and bedroom. In the living room, the furniture is elegant with mahogany wood and gold trim, giving the room an enchanting feel to it. The bedroom has a large king-sized four-poster bed with crisp white sheets and is topped with a plush duck feather duvet—and no, I don’t actually know this shit. I read about it when I was booking it.