“Have you even made it past the South Quays?”
“The what?”
“The quays,” he repeated. “The harbor, wharf, dock, you know.”
“Oh, the piers?” Penny asked, reverting to her knowledge of life on Lake Michigan.
“Sure,” he agreed with a slight shake of his head.
“Bonnie showed me around the city the first day. But to be honest, I don’t really remember much of it. I was jet-lagged, and everything kept looping around. It was very confusing. The streets here twist and turn a lot. At home, it’s much more grid-like.”
Seamus acknowledged this with a shrug before continuing. “So, all along here,” he waved his hand towards the RiverLee, “we have the South Quays.” We’re on Albert’s Quay right now. On the other side of the city are the North Quays. And then there’s the city center, where Bonnie took you. The name Cork, or Corcaigh in Gaelic, actually means marshland. That’s what it was before it was built up all those centuries ago. And, unfortunately, it still floods more often than we’d like when there’s heavy rains and the tide is in.”
“Tide?” Penny asked. “But it’s a river.”
“Yeah, but it flows out to the sea. Or back in again, depending on the tide.”
“Oh, I see. I live on Lake Michigan. We don’t have that.”
“Of course not; it’s a lake,” he scoffed.
Her eyes narrowed as she turned to look at him, remembering once again that she needed to look up. “Well, it’s a very big one,” she grumbled. Then, she added more quietly to herself, “One of the Great ones.”
“Hmmm?”
“Nothing.”
They headed across a bridge then. “This is Clontarf Bridge. And on the other side is Lapp’s Quay.”
“Okay,” Penny agreed, telling herself to be more amicable, but knowing she probably wasn’t going to remember any of these names. She was also wondering how many more he was going to throw at her. He was definitely starting to feel more like a tour guide than a date.
Seamus stopped suddenly. As he’d managed to pull ahead of her again, she ran straight into him. She could feel the laughter that passed through his body as she reached out awkwardly to steady herself, pressing up against his very solid chest as he turned towards her. She was chastising herself to pull her reluctant hands away as the warmth of his fingers on her arm caught her off guard. Her mouth dropped open, and she caught herself looking at him like a star-struck fool.
“Hey, let’s grab a drink. Loosen up a little. Make it more fun.”
Lost in the depths of his sky-blue eyes, she could only nod.
“Sure.”
His fingers continued to trail down until his hand linked with hers. “Come on.”
Soon, he was leading her into a swankier bar than what she’d been in so far. “I love Clint’s. But sometimes a change of scenery is nice.”
This bar had none of the old Irish charm. It was well-lit, unafraid to reveal the clean and polished corners. It had wooden tables and chairs like she was familiar with from home, with menu cards displaying lunch specials and cocktail selections.
“Nice,” she smiled appreciatively as he led her to a table.
“More your style?” he asked.
“Not exactly. I mean, it is nice,” she added quickly. “But I like Clint’s. It’s different for me.”
“You like getting the Irish experience?” he asked, one eyebrow cocked.
She picked up the menu, feeling the need to hide her expression and wanting something else to focus on.
“It’s what I’m here for,” she mumbled, not exactly confident in what she was implying. Then, she quickly added in a louder voice, “So, what do you recommend? I’ve only had ice cream to eat today. I think I could use something a little more solid if we’re having a drink.”
“If you’re just looking for filling, get the fish and chips. But they do nice crab cakes here as well.”
