More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
There’s a moment. Where I’m staring at the door. And I think to myself, This is my rock bottom. But I might as well find out what the full depth of my rock bottom looks like. Maybe there’s something interesting down here, like my dignity.
“You tinsel-bombed the St. Patrick’s Day Prince,” he says. “I have never been more proud of you in my life.”
“Oh. My. God.” Coal waves at Wren. “That’s the only format in which I will accept an official Santa portrait. Make a note of it.”
I need to see what this would look like
“You don’t need to breathe,” Wren says. “It isn’t on the itinerary.”
she needs a raise
His list of likes was as vague as the ones for his sisters: painting—which, duh, art history—and whiskey. If that’s what we’re doing, my whole personality is writing and self-doubt.
same
“Yeah, we have quite a full schedule arranged for this visit.” Lochlann winks at me. “If I remember, you’re quite the fan of schedules, eh, boyo?”
I snatch the glass from Loch and take a gulp. When I swallow, I wave at my face. “Happy? Jesus.” “My lot in life is fulfilled.” I smack my lips. “It tastes like paint.” “It’s acrylic. Ya won’t die.” But he chuckles. “Although, given your proven delicate constitution, you might be keeling over in a wee bit.”
“I didn’t drag you away. I was standing there, minding my own goddamn business.”
“You come in looking like that.”
“Sex walking—what hope did I ever have, boyo?
“Like hell I don’t.” He kisses my cheeks, my eyelids, like he’s trying to brand every inch of me. “I do na even deserve to have you here with me right now, but you deserve every second of me proving how amazing you are. I love you too, and I—”
His smile goes cataclysmic. “I’d expect nothing less, Coffee Shop.”
