Page 9 of A Billionaire Abroad

He picked up the tickets once more and waved her toward the door. “Because it’s fun to see the city through the eyes of someone discovering her for the first time.”

Keighley rose, but hesitantly. “You’re going to make fun of me?”

For once, there was no laughter in his expression. “Not at all. You said yesterday you used to dream about coming to Ireland. You can’t spend the next week missing everything. Give yourself the morning to do something massively touristy. You’ll enjoy it.”

“And you’re coming too?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It’ll be fun.”

“You mean it’ll be ‘good craic’?”

A quick laugh. “You’re learning.” Another motion toward the door. How she wanted to go.

“Sterling will be upset if I don’t have things worked out.”

Conall eyed her doubtfully. “The same Sterling you insisted was charming and wonderful and everything amazing, and not because he’s rich? That Sterling would begrudge you a morning of seeing this beautiful city?”

She didn’t have a ready answer.

“Well, I can see why you find him so appealing,” he said more than a bit dryly. “Sounds like a keeper.”

They walked along the usual narrow, winding streets. “Why does my opinion of Sterling matter to you?”

“Because the mark of a good man is that he doesn’t stand silent when another man takes advantage of the undeserved loyalty of a woman who could do a whole lot better.”

She didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended. Probably both.

The iconic green bus pulled to the stop just as they arrived. Conall hopped on. “Two for the loop,” he said to the driver as she stepped in behind him.

“You sound too Dublin for this,” the driver said.

“I’ve an American in tow.” He nodded toward Keighley. “First time in Ireland. Hasn’t seen a thing.”

“We’ll show her around.” The driver motioned them back.

Tourists in ball caps emblazoned with “Ireland” or shamrock-covered sweatshirts and sporting backpacks and fanny packs filled the benches, phones out and ready to take pictures.

“There’s not a lot of room,” Keighley said.

“There’ll be room up top.” He took the steps upward at a fast clip.

She followed, excitement bubbling. She had seen TikToks from the top of these busses, and they always looked amazing and fun and exactly the sort of cheesy touristy thing she’d enjoy doing.

Conall wasn’t wrong; there were plenty of empty benches on the upper deck.

“Why does no one sit up here?”

He shrugged. “Easier to get off if you’re inside. Warmer in there. They’re not as bright as we are.” He plopped down on the back bench and leaned back, obviously ready to relax and enjoy a ride around town.

She sat next to him, not bothering to hold back her excitement. “This is kind of great.”

“Isn’t it, though?”

The bus pulled back into traffic and the driver’s voice sounded over the speakers. He told them the things they were seeing, a little history, a joke or two. Or seven. Before too many more stops to pick up or let off passengers, Keighley was laughing out loud, no matter that the jokes were usually really bad puns or completely ridiculous stories that couldn’t possibly be true. And each time they passed a church, which happened a lot, Conall pointed at it and said, “Is that your castle church?”

And every time, she said, “No.”

After three or four churches that weren't the right one, he asked, “Are you certain you remember this church?”