Page 46 of Experiments in Offline Dating

“He lied to you.”

“How the hell would you know?”

“Because he’s my dad. And because it’s September.”

“So?”

“God, you’re a nuisance. Look, the Matchmaking Festival is all month long. My dad gets more attention and more jobs in September than all the other months put together. He prepares all year for this. He was never leaving.”

“But . . .” My mouth slackened, but no other words came out. He was right, of course. It made sense. But it smarted a little bit. I was wild about Jackie. Why would he lie to me? I wanted to understand. “But why—”

Before I could get another word out, he reached over and clicked the radio on. The Killers. “Mr. Brightside.”

I raised my voice and leaned forward. “I don’t get it. Why would he lie—” He twisted the dial with a flick of the wrist and turned the volume up loud enough to drown me out. The dog, deciding that I had leaned that bit too close to her dad, started growling and let out a few warning barks. Back off, she seemed to say. They both seemed to say.

“Fine.” I harrumphed back in my seat with my arms crossed. “Assholes.”

Half an hour later, we pulled down a gravel path to a little parking lot with a handful of cars.

“Come on, Finn,” Tadhg called to his pet demon, and the dog jumped out in one graceful leap while I worked decidedly less gracefully at squeezing my rear end from the backseat and out of the door. The taller of the two monsters grinned at me, but it wasn’t a nice thing, it was a little I deeply enjoy watching you make a fool of yourself curl of the lip.

“Look away!”

“No chance. Might even take a photo next time. I could send it as a warning before each date.”

“I can end you with a ball of yarn and a travel toothbrush, and I will smile while I do it.”

The dog, presumably celebrating my degradation, barked wildly and spun around in circles in front of us. Normally, I might be tricked into thinking that it was adorable dog behavior, but this dog was probably just burning off a little extra energy after eating too many children. Finally, the Jaws of Life released me.

“’Bout time.”

I ignored this, because I’m classy like that. “Bite me!”

His legs were too long, and I had to rush to keep pace with him, something he no doubt noticed, the jerk.

“So. Do you know this guy that I’m supposed to have a date with?”

“Yep.”

The corner of my mouth tugged itself up, and I wanted to needle him. “Do you think this date will be better than our date?”

“It could hardly be worse. Unless you decide to snatch his wig off and mop the floor with it. Which, now that I think about it, I wouldn’t put past you.”

I laughed. A wig. Maybe he could be kinda funny when he wanted to be. His eyes slid sideways to mine, and I thought for the first time that perhaps he was grinning with me. But something in his smile looked a little bit too satisfied.

“Wait. Are you serious? Does he wear a toupee?”

His smile stretched, but he kept his eyes forward as we walked.

“Hello? Tadhg! Does he wear a toupee?” He strode on, ignoring me completely. “Say something! Tell me so I can prepare! I need to know!”

He let out a low laugh but nothing more. Finn barked and hopped along the trail next to us. Both of them were enjoying this far too much for my liking.

I wasn’t lying. I did need to know. I was really bad at hiding things. And at holding back blunt observations. And at lying. And at controlling my face.

I took some deep breaths and tried to wrestle in place an impenetrable mask of unflappable unflappability. If there was a toupee—I would not stare at the toupee, I would not mention the toupee, and I most certainly would not touch the toupee.

We emerged from the trees to a gorgeous collection of fairy-tale stone cottages, vines coiling up their sides and bursting with fragrant blooms. Delicious smells curled around us, luring us in like a witch in a candy house.