Both girls were caked in makeup, sprouting pigtails and wearing matching pink vests. Worse, they had groomed Gibsie to within an inch of his life. His blond curls? Yeah, they were bunched together in two stumpy pigtails on either side of his head, while the pink vest he was sewn into stretched at the seams in protest. “Guys, look!” Squealing with excitement, Claire gestured to their dance routine. “We finally nailed it.” “You are in Ireland,” I reminded them, lips twitching. “Not Hollywood.”
