“And not without sympathy, Aidan turned the shower on full cold and shoved his beloved brother under the heartless spray. Oh, the scream but peeled the skin off his face, and the curse that followed battered his ears.But Aidan held ground, dodged a fist when he had to, and clamping Shawn in a headlock, held him mercilessly under.”

“He waved cheerfully, then opened the door, tripped over the threshold, and as his balance was already impaired, nearly went face down on the floor for the second time that day. He caught himself, hung on to the side of the counter, and waited for the pub kitchen to stop revolving.With the careful steps of the drunk, he walked over to the cupboard to get out a pan for frying, a pot for boiling.Shawn was singing in his break-your-heart voice, about the cold nature of Peggy Gordon. And with one eye closed, his body swaying gently, he dripped lemon juice into a bowl.“Oh, fuck me, Shawn. You are half pissed.”“More than three-quarters if the truth be known.” He lost track of the juice and added a bit more to be safe. “And how are you, Aidan, darling?”“Get way from there before you poison someone.”Insulted, Shawn swiveled around and had to brace a hand on the counter to stay upright. “I’m drunk, not a murderer. I can make a g.d. fish cake in me sleep. This is my kitchen, I’ll thank you to remember, and I give the orders here.”He poked himself in the chest with his thumb on the claim and nearly knocked himself on his ass.Gathering dignity, he lifted his chin. “So go on with you while I go about my work.” “What have you done to yourself?”“The devil cat caught me hand. Forgetting his work, Shawn lifted a hand to scowl at the red gashes. Oh, but I’ve got plans for him, you can be sure of that.”“At the moment, I’d lay odds on the cat. Do you know anything about putting fish cakes together?” Aidan asked Darcy.“Not a bloody thing,” she said cheerfully.“Then go and call Kathy Duffy, would you, and ask if she can spare us an hour or so, as we have an emergency?”“An emergency?” Shawn looked glassily around. “Where?”

“It was a lie, of course, and she was prepared to confess it to her priest. But she’d be damned if she’d tell him she’d been playing with his music.Her pride was worth the penance.He felt a quiver in his heart that he took for sympathy. “There, Brenna darling. Have you gone and fallen in love on me?”She jerked, whirled, gaped at him. He was watching her with such—such bloody affection, such patience and sympathy. She could have beaten him black and blue. Instead, she just shoved clear of him and snatched up her toolbox. “Shawn Gallagher, you are truly a great idiot of a man.”With her nose in the air and her tools clanking, she stalked out.He only shook his head, then went back to his cleaning up. With that little quiver around his heart again, he wondered who it was that O’Toole had set her sights on.Whoever, Shawn thought, slamming a cupboard door just a little too forcefully, the man had better be worthy of her.”

“You’re as pretty as she is.”“Don’t be saying such things loud enough for herself to hear you, or she’ll skin us both.”Touched and amused, she kissed his cheek. And Shawn came through the door.It would have been comical, she decided, and was a pity that no one noticed but herself noticed the way he stopped dead in his tracks, stared, then jolted when the door swung back and slapped him in the ass.I liked how she was trying to make him jealous with Jack.Jack sighed into his beer when Brenna strode out. “She smells like sawdust,” he said more to himself than otherwise. “It’s very pleasant.”“What are you doing sniffing at her?” Shawn demanded.Jack just blinked at him. “What?”“I’ll be back in a minute.” He shoved up the pass-through on the bar, let it fall with a bang that had Aidan cursing him, then rushed through the door after Brenna.“Wait a minute. Mary Brennan? Just a damn minute.”She paused by the door of her truck, and for one of the first times in her life felt the warm glow of pure female satisfaction stream through her. A fine feeling, she decided. A fine feeling altogether.Schooling her face to show mild interest, she turned. “Is there a problem, then?”“Yes, there’s a problem. What are you doing flirting with Jack Brennan that way?”She let her eyebrows rise up under the bill of her cap. “And what business might that be of yours, I’d like to know?”“A matter of days ago you’re asking me to make love with you, and I turn around and you’re cozying up to Jack and making plans to have dinner with some Dubliner.”She waited one beat, then two. “And?”“And?” Flustered and furious, he glared at her. “And it’s not right.”She only lifted a shoulder in dismissal, then turned to open the truck door.“It’s not right,” he repeated, grabbing her again and turning her to face him. “I’m not having it.”“So you said, in clear terms.”“I don’t mean that.”“Oh, well, if you’ve decided you’d like to have sex with me after all, I’ve changed my mind.”“I haven’t decided—” He broke off, staggered. “Changed your mind?”

“Because he wanted to see her face again before he took himself off to the pub, Shawn leaned back casually on the counter, then tucked his tongue in his cheek.“So you’re walking out with Jack Brennan these days, I’m hearing.”When her head came up swiftly and connected with the top of the oven with a resounding crack, Shawn winced, and wisely swallowed the chuckle.“I am not!” As he’d hoped, she popped out of the oven. There was a bit of soot on her nose, and as she rubbed her sore head, she knocked her cap askew. “Who said I am?”“Oh.” Innocent as three lambs, Shawn merely shrugged and finished his tea. “I thought I heard it somewhere, ‘round and about, as such things go.”

“The second surprise came on the heels of the first when she noted the only thing keeping her from rolling off the bed was the arm that Shawn had banded around her.He’d sprawled himself in the middle of the mattress, shoving her to the outer edge. But, she thought, at least he was considerate enough to see that she stayed there and didn’t fall on her face.”

“Brenna’s lorry wasn’t parked in the street. The dog was nowhere to be seen. Apparently even Betty had deserted him in his hour of need. The only choice left was a quick and cowardly retreat. “What was I thinking?” he stopped short and clapped a hand to his forehead. “I’m supposed to be helping Aidan . . . at the house. Slipped my mind.”As quickly as he could manage, he untangled his arm, gently nudging her hand away, as he might a puppy who was inclined to nip. Down, girl. “Things are always slipping my mind, so I don’t suppose he’ll be surprised that I’m late.”