Luck of the Irish

Dedication

 

For all my friends for whom the fight for equality is something they live every day. And for the Nuke's Corner crowd. You've become like a second family to me... slighty nuts, very dysfunctional, and I’m so proud to be a part of it.
Chapter 1

Q
UINN
looked out the window of the airplane at the pastures and rolling hills below. He’d never seen so many different colors of green in his life. It was absolutely gorgeous, and he looked forward to spending some time exploring the country.

Coming to Ireland had been an idea with a dual purpose, the first being that Quinn would be checking out some horses his father, Patrick, was interested in. Patrick usually liked to check the animals out for himself, but he trusted Quinn’s judgment because he knew his son loved the big animals as much as he did. The second reason for the trip was to get Quinn out of Rockingham.

He’d been having a rough couple of years, and a break was just what he needed, so he had taken a month-long vacation and booked the trip. Right now Quinn couldn’t think of anything more appealing than driving around the Irish countryside, having a few beers in the local pubs, and just enjoying his own company.

He knew there was a little Irish in his blood and figured that was the reason he’d always dreamed of traveling there. Now here he was, landing at the airport in Dublin. His dream was coming true.

Okay, that wasn’t totally true. In his dream, there was always some hot guy with him who totally adored him, and they would spend all their nights making love in quaint little bed and breakfast places all over Ireland. But the hot guy thing hadn’t worked out so well for him. In fact, it had worked out pretty badly; hence the need to escape.

Quinn had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed the plane had landed, but now he was eager to disembark and start his adventure.

The flight attendant came out from her little room at the back to let the passengers off the plane. Quinn had all his papers ready and knew his custom checks would be taken care of by the time he got there.

After his bags and paperwork had been inspected, he found himself at the car rental counter. The pretty young girl there was more than willing to help him out with the rental and found him a small SUV that would more than suit his needs. He felt a little bad taking advantage of her shameless flirting to get a good deal, but it wasn’t really his fault that her “assets” were lost on him.

Once he had everything loaded, he climbed into the car, feeling slightly odd getting in on the “wrong” side. He had studied the driving laws so he could drive while he was in Ireland. Going home and explaining foreign traffic violations to his family would be embarrassing, so he’d tried to be a good student. Quinn booked his first stay at a little hotel in Athlone. He’d meet the first horse breeder there in a couple of days, and figured he would settle in and do some exploring beforehand. With a few hours of driving ahead of him, he was eager to get going.

Quinn managed to find the right road to avoid Dublin city center and was on the highway before long. The beauty of the countryside and the small towns he passed along the way captured his admiration. Every village he drove through seemed to bustle with activity, putting his imagination into overtime.

Young children, maybe on their way home from school, laughed together as they strolled along. There were often couples walking together, a lot of times with bags or parcels, obviously having done some shopping. Some of the shops appeared as if they’d been standing forever, old and careworn, and it looked so perfect it was almost like a scene from a movie.

Further out in the country, sheep and cows grazed in dark green pastures, sometimes with horses, most of them standing and swatting flies with their tails. Others were more spirited, galloping across the fields, younger animals perhaps playing as horses sometimes did.

There was so much going on, yet it seemed so peaceful and serene, Quinn felt he could explore this country forever and not get tired of it.

Maybe this would jumpstart his writing again. A place as old as Ireland would have a lot of stories to tell, and Quinn hoped he could find some that hadn’t been told yet.

As he drove into Athlone, he saw the top of the magnificent Athlone Castle, and he suddenly couldn’t wait to go exploring on foot. The castle was close to his bed and breakfast, so it would make getting there to explore that much easier. When he pulled up in front of the Bastion B and B, he grinned at the bright blue-and-red exterior. This place could be just the thing he needed.

He went in and smiled at the kind-looking older gentleman he found behind the front desk.

 

“Good day to you, sir,” said the gentleman. Quinn’s smile widened as the man spoke. He loved the Gaelic lilt in the man’s voice. “How can I help you?” “Hello, I’m Quinn Donovan. I’m checking in for a few days.”

“Ah yes, Mr. Donovan. My girl’s got the loft room done up for you. It’s large but cozy, and you should be comfortable there. It’s got its own bath, as you requested.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Quinn gave the man all the information he required and then followed him up the stairs to a beautiful loft bedroom. He set down his bags and looked around, smiling widely as he took in the amazing décor. A brass bed dominated the room, made up with a quilt and a mound of pillows perfect for snuggling. The rest of the furniture seemed designed for comfort, with oversized cushions on two chairs that sat beside a small fireplace in one corner. It was all warm and welcoming.

“Thank you, Mr.…?”

“McCay, Anthony McCay. My son and I run this place, along with my wife and, hopefully someday, a daughter-in-law. That is, if Vinnie ever stops working so hard and gets to looking.” He sighed like a long-suffering but loving father, and offered his hand to Quinn.

“
Fàilte go hÉirinn
, Mr. Donovan. Welcome to Ireland! I hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us.”

 

“I’m sure I will, Mr. McCay; it’s a lovely place. So, do you have any recommendations on where to go first? Maybe somewhere to eat?”

 

“If I were you, I’d head down to Sean’s. There’s always something good on the menu there.”

 

“Sean’s?” Quinn was intrigued.

“Yes. It’s the oldest pub in Ireland, so the story goes. Bit touristy, but the food is good, and the beer’s better. And make sure you take in the castle as well, but I’d do that tomorrow, as it’s getting late and it’s best to take the time to explore it.”

“How far is it to Sean’s?”

“Get settled in and come on down to the front. I’ll give you a map with the directions on it. It’s just a short walk, a few streets away, and it’s kind of nice to walk and see what’s going on if you like that sort of thing.”

“I do, so I’ll be down shortly, and thanks.”

 

“Ah, it ain’t nothing, lad. Glad to do it.” He clapped Quinn on the shoulder and left him to get settled.

 

Quinn had a feeling Ireland was going to be good for him.
Chapter 2
Q
UINN
loved walking in new places. Traveling was one of his favorite things to do, and now he had nothing holding him back from doing it.

That wasn’t as comforting a thought as it would have been at one time. In fact, traveling without a companion was kind of lonely, when he thought too much about it.

Quinn shook his head and silently berated himself. He was living his dream, and he’d be damned if he’d let his ex-boyfriend ruin this for him too.

Following the directions Mr. McCay had given him, Quinn soon found himself in front of Sean’s. The front of the building was red and white, with a creamy beige stripe on top. It had mullioned windows and window boxes full of flowers, and it was absolutely perfect.

He walked through the door, spied the sawdust on the black-and-white checked floor, and grinned at the old-fashioned feel of the pub. There was a huge open fireplace, and the room was dim, cozy, and wonderful.

A small table tucked back in the corner caught his attention, and he settled in to observe his surroundings. Quinn loved to watch people. He pulled out his notebook and some pens and sat back to take in what was going on around him. The pictures on the walls closest to him drew his interest. Paintings and photographs, all of them depicting scenes that had probably taken place here over and over again through the years, were hung at intervals. There were wonderful images of people enjoying themselves, drinking, and just spending time together. It looked like a wonderfully rich history that had welcomed friends for centuries.

“Hello! Welcome to Sean’s!” Quinn looked up and saw a young man wearing an apron standing in front of his table. “I’m Ryan. What can I get for you?” “Uhm, Guinness, I guess, and a menu?”

 

“Sure thing. Be right back.” That Irish brogue was going to kill Quinn. He was pretty sure it was the sexiest accent he’d ever heard.

 

Ryan came back with a full glass and a small menu. “I recommend the meat pie. Claire’s got it in full swing today, and it’s amazing.”

 

“Claire?” Quinn raised an eyebrow at the smiling young man.

 

“She’s doing the cooking today. Take it with some bread to mop up the gravy. Her bread’s the best.”

 

“Well, since you seem to be the expert, I’ll trust your judgment!” The young man nodded and hurried off to place the order. Once that was taken care of, Quinn spent some more time investigating his surroundings.

A pamphlet on the table explained that Sean’s was the oldest pub in Europe and maybe the world, having been around in some form for almost a thousand years. The history of the place was amazing. Royalty and commoners alike had spent time here. In the middle ages, the only women who would have been allowed were whores and serving wenches, and the whole place would have smelled of sweaty bodies and ale.

Now pretty young girls chatted at the bar while old men played chess in the corner. Music was piped into the room from speakers that had been mounted on the walls, and savory smells wafted out of the kitchen, making Quinn’s stomach rumble.

Quinn was so busy daydreaming, he almost missed Ryan bringing his supper. The whole meal looked delicious. The bread was dark, and there was real butter to spread on it; the pastry on the meat pie was tender and flaky, and the filling was so fantastic that if he wasn’t gay, he would have marched into the kitchen and asked the cook to marry him.

He sat and ate, watching people come and go. When he finished, he ordered another pint and started writing in his notebook, looking up now and again as more folk came and went.

Soon someone in the corner began playing music on an old fiddle, and others joined in singing. Quinn just sat there, dreaming and writing, until a new sound caught his ear. Startled out of his reverie by loud laughter, he looked up to see what appeared to be half a soccer team enter the pub.

Wrong, Donovan
.
They call it football here
. The men were dirty and noisy, and a cheer went up from a bunch of patrons. Obviously the players were local favorites. He was about to get back to his writing when one of the men caught his eye.

Tall, lean, and completely gorgeous, he had dark curls and tanned skin. When he happened to turn Quinn’s way, Quinn saw that he had the bluest eyes Quinn had ever seen. When the man noticed Quinn staring, he smiled, and it felt like a punch to the gut. God, Quinn had never seen a more beautiful man.

Quinn frowned as his feelings overwhelmed him, and the young man looked at him as if wondering what he had done to piss the tourist off.

Quinn watched the guy and his friends settle at a table. Even though he knew it was rude, he couldn’t stop staring. The beautiful man sat with his back to Quinn, and the view was almost as gorgeous, but Quinn wanted to see his face again.

He noted with envy the easy way the man had with his friends. It had been long time since Quinn had interacted that way with anyone. He frowned again and looked down at his notebook, lost in thoughts of the past.

One of the other players had noticed Quinn staring and whispered in the gorgeous man’s ear as Quinn looked up again, causing the stranger to stare back at him. Quinn’s eyes widened in surprise and he smiled, but before the guy could see it, the man’s friend caught his attention once again. Quinn just sighed. It figured.

“So, O’Reilly, I’ve been thinking about your romantic problem.” That sentence carried to Quinn and caught his attention.

 

“I don’t have a problem, Fergal.”

 

“Sure you do. The problem is, there’s just not a lot to choose from in Athlone.”

 

“Can you just leave it alone, then, Fergal? Please?” Quinn didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the guy wasn’t exactly being quiet.

 

“Well, not really a gay mecca here or anything, is it? Hard for a bloke like you to get a date, isn’t it?”

 

The man’s statement surprised Quinn as he reached for his pen, and he bumped his empty glass, knocking it off the table to shatter against the tiled floor. Every head in the place turned toward him, including the blue-eyed god’s. Quinn jumped up and started picking up the pieces, horribly embarrassed.