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Lilac Lane
Sherryl Woods


From #1 New York Times bestseller, Sherryl Woods.Chesapeake Shores is now a major TV series starring Meghan Ory and Jesse Metcalfe.Can a broken heart find love?When single mother Kiera Malone moves from a small town off the coast of Ireland to be with her family in Chesapeake Shores, finding love is the last thing on her mind. Overwhelmed with grief after losing her fiancé, she’s alone and in desperate need of a fresh start.The community of Chesapeake Shores welcome her with open arms, and Kiera moves into a charming cottage on Lilac Lane. But when she begins working at the local Irish pub alongside Bryan Laramie, the argumentative chef, little does she know that this fresh start may be about to get a lot more complicated…







Chesapeake Shores has always represented home and family for the O’Briens, but in Lilac Lane, the community extends its healing powers to a woman recovering from overwhelming grief

Single mom Kiera Malone struggled for years to raise her three children in a small town on the coast of Ireland. Just when she’s let down her guard and allowed herself to love again, her fiancé suffers a fatal heart attack and leaves her alone yet again. Overwhelmed by her loss, she’s persuaded to visit her father, Dillon O’Malley, and her daughter, Moira O’Brien, in Chesapeake Shores. With the promise of family ties and a job at O’Brien’s, her son-in-law’s Irish pub, she takes what seems like the biggest risk of her life.

As it turns out, though, crossing the ocean is nothing compared to moving into a charming cottage on Lilac Lane, right next door to Bryan Laramie, the moody chef at O’Brien’s, who doesn’t do anything the way Kiera believes it should be done. Their kitchen wars quickly become the stuff of legends in Chesapeake Shores, and the town’s matchmakers conclude where there’s heat, there’s sure to be passion.

As these two deal with their wounded pasts and discover common interests, they might just find the perfect recipe for love.


Lilac Lane

Sherryl Woods






ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES


This one is for all the readers who’ve embraced my characters and

stories through the years. You’ve been such a blessing in my life

and I treasure the friendship you’ve offered.


Contents

Cover (#u55a600b4-b8e1-561f-a169-a5713b46b5df)

Back Cover Text (#u7d5ef880-d054-59b5-9715-d4f84b9c45bd)

Title Page (#u8607e4cb-4882-5404-9c5e-8c0a2a667a43)

Dedication (#u869adb6d-72e2-50ef-a682-da7072017e8a)

Prologue (#ud8c14f5d-ef17-5543-805d-36c58dda77f0)

Chapter 1 (#u3071f1ab-456d-5120-aea9-f9d5b99ae5e7)

Chapter 2 (#ua0f80ad4-3f9d-5c04-8fea-37577db78f0c)

Chapter 3 (#uf246de07-de47-5393-8649-bd65cf7ecdc1)

Chapter 4 (#u233ab7c4-5735-515d-9be6-bdd9891494f1)

Chapter 5 (#u2c8bc9ca-ac6e-5a84-ae04-6c5e8d295443)

Chapter 6 (#ucffaa9a8-b226-583c-9bbd-10eeaf315278)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)

Afterword (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue (#u759c93d3-b3bd-5062-b4f9-8f1055888241)

The death of Peter McDonough would have been a blow at any time, but coming as it had on the very day Kiera Malone had finally accepted his proposal of marriage left her reeling. After her first husband, Sean Malone, had abandoned her with three young children, she had vowed never to let another man into her life, much less into her heart. She’d clung to her independence with a fierce protectiveness. She’d made a practice of scaring men away with her tart tongue and bitter demeanor, even knowing as she did so that she was dooming herself to loneliness. Better that than dooming herself and her children to another loss, another mistake.

After the death of his wife, Peter, bless his sweet soul, had waited patiently on the sidelines for Kiera, running his pub in Dublin, supporting her daughter, Moira, in her efforts to make a career of the photography that Kiera herself had thought of as nothing more than a hobby, and making the occasional overture to Kiera.

To Kiera’s confusion, not even her best efforts to push him aside and make clear her lack of interest, efforts that had chased off every other man who’d approached her, seemed to dissuade Peter. He took her rebuffs in stride. If anything, his not-so-secret crush had deepened.

More troubling, aside from his thick, curly hair and firm jaw, he had a combination of traits that drew her to him—strength balanced by gentleness, bold determination tempered by patience and a booming laugh that could fill her heart with unexpected lightness. He was, in all respects, a man who knew exactly what he wanted, and he wanted Kiera. She had no idea why.

Moreover, he’d had the support not only of her father, Dillon O’Malley, but of her daughter. Up until then, Moira, like Dillon, had approved of very few of Kiera’s choices in life. Yet for once Moira and Kiera’s father had conspired to push Kiera and Peter together at every opportunity. Since their approval had been granted so sparingly over the years, she’d been persuaded to be less resistant than usual. What was the harm, after all, when she knew it would come to nothing? Relationships tended to deteriorate over time, even those begun with passion and hope. They ended. At least that was her experience.

But then Moira and Dillon had somehow convinced Kiera to move back to Dublin, where, they’d said, there were more opportunities. They dangled new opportunities like strands of glittering gold, told her any one of them would be an improvement over her dead-end career in a dingy neighborhood pub in a tiny seaside village on the coast north of Dublin where she’d toiled for long hours and low pay for most of her life. Moira had actually had the audacity to scold her for accepting security for her family over any ambitions she might have once had to run a restaurant of her own.

“Where’s your confidence and self-respect?” Moira had demanded. “You’re a far better waitress and cook than I am. And you’ve management skills, as well. Look at how well you’ve kept our family afloat.”

Kiera knew the truth of that. Moira was competent, but her heart wasn’t in the restaurant business, not even that Irish pub she was hoping to run with her new husband in Chesapeake Shores, Maryland. Luke O’Brien was the attraction there.

Moira’s clever argument took another twist. “After all Peter’s done for me, it’s only fitting that I not leave him in the lurch when I move to Chesapeake Shores. Come to Dublin, where you’ll be making at least twice the tips and have the support of a man who’s been nothing short of an angel to me. He’d be the same for you. It could be the sort of partnership your life’s been lacking.”

Kiera noted with some amusement that Moira hadn’t suggested romance, a word her daughter knew well would have sent Kiera fleeing in the opposite direction.

“He has his own children to step in and help with the running of the pub,” Kiera had protested, even though much of what her daughter said made sense.

The prospect of starting over, though, was a scary business. As harsh and difficult as her life had been, it was a niche in which she felt comfortable. With children to support on her own, she’d stopped taking chances. Moira was exactly right about that. She’d put her family first. Wasn’t that what a mother was meant to do? The thought of taking a daring risk now was beyond terrifying and yet, perhaps, just a little intriguing.

“His sons have little interest in the pub, much to Peter’s dismay,” Moira said. “There will be room for you. Peter will welcome the help and the company. If you ask me, he’s been a wee bit lonely since his wife’s passing.”

Persuaded at last—or perhaps simply worn down—Kiera had made the move, but only after telling Peter very, very firmly that he was not to be having expectations of a personal nature where she was concerned. He’d agreed to her terms, but there’d been a smile on his lips and a spark in his blue eyes that she probably shouldn’t have ignored.

And there he’d been, day in and day out for the better part of two years, always with a quick-witted comment that made her laugh or a gesture that softened her heart. And his patience truly had been a revelation to her. He’d done not one single thing to make her feel rushed, to make her put up her well-honed guard. Nor was he one to overindulge in Guinness, a habit that would have sent Kiera running even faster after living with Sean’s uncontrolled bouts of drinking and subsequent abusive talk.

And so, eventually, one by one, her defenses fell. She found herself looking forward to their late-night talks after the pub closed, to his interest in her opinions. Maybe most of all, she’d basked in his kind and steady company that made her feel secure as she hadn’t since the very earliest days of her marriage to Sean Malone. She’d last felt that way before Sean’s drinking had started, before he’d walked out the door of their home for the very last time, leaving her with two sons who were not yet ready to start school and a daughter just home from the hospital.

Because she’d made such a show of rebellion in marrying Sean in the first place, Kiera hadn’t allowed herself to go running home to her parents back then. Instead, she’d struggled to make do, surviving on her own, if barely. It was only when her mum lay dying that she’d reconciled with her parents and eventually allowed them back into her life and the lives of her children. Her sons and daughter hadn’t even been aware that they had grandparents who might dote on them if given the chance.

Now with all three of her children grown and finding their own paths—albeit in the case of her sons, a path she wouldn’t have chosen, the same one their dad had taken—Kiera had been at loose ends when she made the move back to Dublin. She’d perhaps been more vulnerable than she’d allowed herself to be in years.

She couldn’t claim that Peter had taken unfair advantage of that. He’d been too fine a man to do so, but the fact was, she’d finally been ready to reach for a little happiness. Peter had offered the promise of that and more. And exactly as Moira had predicted, his sons were happy enough to have her in their father’s life and working by his side at the pub. The future looked bright with the sort of promise of love and stability she’d once dreamed of, but never imagined truly finding.

And, then, on the very day she’d said yes, when she’d opened her heart and allowed Peter to put a ring on her finger, a ring he’d claimed he’d been holding on to for years for just such a glorious day, he’d betrayed her as surely as Sean Malone ever had. He’d suffered a fatal heart attack just hours later, and once again, Kiera was alone and adrift. Abandoned.

Wasn’t that just the way of the bloody world? she thought, her protective bitterness returning in spades and her fragile heart once more shattered into pieces.


Chapter 1 (#u759c93d3-b3bd-5062-b4f9-8f1055888241)

Moira O’Brien sat in the kitchen of her grandfather’s cozy home by the Chesapeake Bay, a home he shared with Nell O’Brien O’Malley, with whom he’d been reunited only a few short years ago after a lifetime of being separated. The air was rich with the scent of cranberry-orange scones baking in the oven and Irish Breakfast Tea steeping in a treasured antique flowered teapot on the table. Nell had brought it home from Ireland after visiting her grandparents decades ago. She said it had been her Irish grandmother’s favorite.

“What should we be doing about our Kiera?” Nell asked them. Though Kiera hadn’t even come to Chesapeake Shores for her own father’s wedding to Nell or for Moira’s wedding to Luke O’Brien on the same day, Nell had always considered her family, embracing her and fretting over her as surely as she did her own children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She was the most nurturing person Moira had ever known.

Moira bounced her baby girl on her knee as she considered the problem they’d all been worrying about ever since they’d heard the news about Peter’s untimely death right on the heels of the far happier news about his engagement to Kiera.

“Kiera will make her own choices,” Dillon said, his tone a mix of resignation and worry. “I know my daughter all too well. Pushing her to bend in the way we’d like will never work. She’ll simply dig in her heels out of pure stubbornness, exactly as she did when she married Sean Malone against my wishes all those years ago. Right now she’s probably regretting the very fact that she let us convince her to move to Dublin in the first place. She’ll be listening to very little of the advice we offer.”

“Well, it’s sure that my brothers won’t be around to support her,” Moira said disdainfully. “She hasn’t once mentioned them since Peter died. I doubt they come around at all these days except to ask for a handout.”

Nell gave her a disapproving look, but Moira knew she was right. Her brothers were following a little too closely in their father’s drunken footsteps. “She belongs here with us,” she said emphatically, keeping her gaze steady on her grandfather. “You know I’m right. She needs the kind of family we’ve found here. A steady dose of the O’Briens will restore her spirits. She wasted years on bitterness and regrets after my dad left. I know she’d say she was working too hard to waste time on love, but the truth is she was too terrified to take a chance that she’d be making another poor choice. We can’t allow her to do the same again.”

To Moira’s surprise, it was Nell who promptly backed her.

“I agree that coming here is exactly what she needs,” she said, then reached over to stroke the baby’s cheek. “And I think our darling little Kate right here and her need for a grandmother’s attention is the very reason Kiera won’t fight us on this.”

Moira saw the light of near-certain victory spark in her grandfather’s eyes and knew Nell had hit on the perfect solution. “You’re suggesting I throw myself on her mercy, tell her that I’m in desperate need of help with the baby, even though our Kate is perfectly content in Carrie’s day care center,” Moira concluded.

“Which has been dreadfully overcrowded since the day it opened,” Nell claimed with exaggerated innocence.

“Dreadfully,” Dillon confirmed, nodding, his expression astonishingly serious for a man who knew they were bending the truth, if not flat-out breaking it. Nell’s great-granddaughter’s child care business was flourishing, that much was true, but she had more than enough competent staff to manage it.

“If you think it will take more to persuade her, there’s your own husband’s pub, which is in dire need of an extra pair of hands,” Nell added. “You’re far too busy with your photography and your travel to exhibitions to help my grandson out as you once did.”

Moira nodded. “True enough. Megan would have me traveling once a month if I’d agree to it. I suspect she’s exaggerating a bit, but she tells me she’s had to turn down requests for shows, because I won’t make myself available as often as she’d like. She’s got quite a knack for inducing guilt.”

“Exactly, but we can use that to our advantage with Kiera,” Nell said. “And my health is far too fragile for me to be spending my spare minutes in the kitchen at the pub keeping a watchful eye on the chef to be sure the menu doesn’t stray too far from proper Irish recipes.”

“Nell, you’ve given us a scare or two, but in all honesty, you’re about as fragile as a steel beam,” Moira replied, but she was laughing at the clever strategy. If she handled the performance convincingly, it would play on all of her mum’s weaknesses, most especially on her need to be useful while keeping a firm grip on her independence.

“And you’re wickedly devious to boot,” she told Nell. “Both traits I admire, I might add.”

“I’ll thank you for that,” Nell said, clearly taking it as the praise Moira had intended. “With a contrary family the size of mine, it’s always best to have a few tricks up my sleeve. Sadly, most of them are onto me now.”

“Isn’t this something we should at least be discussing with Luke?” Dillon asked, inserting a word of caution. “If we intend to push Kiera into a job at his pub, he should be brought on board with our plan.”

“Leave Luke to me,” Moira said confidently. “I think I can convince him of the advantages of having her here. It would allow him more free time at home with me and Kate. Mum is far more experienced at running a pub than I ever thought of being. Not only was she more competent, but she loved it as I never did. She’ll be a true asset.”

“Are we agreed, then, that once Luke’s given us his blessing, Moira should be the one to make the call?” Dillon asked. “It’ll receive a better reception than any suggestion that comes from me. Kiera and I have made our peace, but it’s tenuous at best.” He studied Moira. “How are your skills at bending the truth without getting caught?”

Moira laughed. “An improvement on yours, and that’s a fact.”

* * *

Luke walked into his house on Beach Lane well after midnight, expecting to find his wife and daughter sound asleep as they usually were. Instead, he opened the door to discover the soft glow of dozens of candles and his wife wearing one of those shimmery gowns that skimmed over her curves and never failed to cause a hitch in his breath in the few seconds before he managed to get it off her.

Suspicion warred with heat, but as usual the heat won. With his gaze locked with hers, he tried to assess the glint in her eyes as he crossed the room and accepted the glass of champagne she held out to him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a welcome like this at the end of the day,” he murmured, his gaze drifting to the swell of her breast where the gown had dipped low.

“And it’s long overdue, it is,” Moira said, her voice soft and filled with promise.

She pushed him back against the cushions of the sofa and settled snugly against him. “I’ve missed our time like this. Haven’t you?”

“It’s not as if our love life has been lacking,” he commented in a choked voice as her hand tugged his T-shirt free and slipped below to caress bare skin.

“Not lacking for sure,” she conceded. “But less spontaneous. You can’t deny that. With our schedules so demanding, we practically need an appointment to have a moment like this.”

“And you’ve been missing the spontaneity?”

“Old married couples need an occasional spark to liven things up,” she said, and managed to say it with a straight face.

As intrigued as he was by where this was heading, Luke couldn’t seem to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “Old married couple? Is that how you’re thinking of us these days? When did we both turn gray and start hobbling around? In my opinion, we’ve barely left the honeymoon phase.”

She frowned at his teasing. “If you’re not interested after I’ve gone to all this trouble,” she huffed in typical Moira fashion. She’d always been too quick to take offense.

He brushed a wayward strand of hair from her cheek. “I am always interested in you,” he contradicted. “And will be until the day I die. However, Moira, my love, I know you a bit too well to take this seduction at face value. You have something on your mind. Out with that and then we’ll get to the rest of the evening as you’ve planned it.”

She looked as if she wanted to argue, but in the end she sighed and sat back, then took a healthy gulp of her champagne. Since Moira rarely indulged in alcohol, Luke figured whatever she was about to tell him was likely to be something she knew he wasn’t going to want to hear.

“It’s about my mum,” she confessed.

Luke’s antenna went on full alert. He and Kiera had called a tentative truce since he’d married her daughter, but they weren’t exactly close. And though he sympathized with what she must be going through since Peter McDonough’s unexpected and sudden death, he couldn’t imagine what that had to do with him.

“I was with Nell and my grandfather earlier,” Moira continued.

“So they’re involved in this, too?” he asked, his antenna now waving as if there were a dozen signals coming at him all at once, none of them boding well. If his grandmother was involved, there was a very good chance it involved the sort of sneaky meddling that terrified everyone in the family. The only person even better at it was his uncle Mick O’Brien. Thankfully, so far his name hadn’t come up.

“Just tell me,” he instructed his wife. “What are the three of you conspiring about when it comes to your mother, and what could it possibly have to do with me?”

Moira leaned toward him, her expression earnest. “You know how devastated she was by Peter’s death. We think she needs a change of scenery if she’s not to go back to her old ways.”

“Her old ways?”

“You know, retreating from the world, wallowing in her misery and bitterness,” she explained. “I’ve already heard hints of that when we’ve spoken. She feels betrayed. The walls are going back up. It happened after my dad left. I can’t let her waste the rest of her days being all alone again. She’s still young enough to enjoy a full and happy life, if only she’ll allow it.”

Luke recalled how impossible Kiera had been when they’d first met in Ireland. The only person topping her in that department had been the woman sitting right here with him, her skin glowing, the strap on her gown sliding provocatively low, and her voice filled with passion, albeit of an entirely different sort than when he’d first walked in the door. What sort of idiot was he to have redirected that passion to this conversation?

“I’m guessing you three have come up with a solution to save her from herself,” he said warily.

“We have,” Moira said enthusiastically. “We think she needs to come here, to be with us, with all of the O’Briens. She needs to be surrounded by family. It’ll show her just how a life is meant to be lived. We’d be setting a good example.”

Though Luke desperately wanted to argue, to claim it was a terrible idea to remind Kiera of all the family closeness she’d just lost when Peter died, he couldn’t do it. Despite the flare-ups of old family feuds and conflicts, there was healing power in the O’Brien togetherness. He’d experienced it his entire life. And there was healing magic in Chesapeake Shores, as well. He’d have to be hard-hearted to deny that to Moira’s mother.

“Fine. She’ll come for a visit,” he said. “Why would I object to that? When we built our house, we included a guest suite just for such a visit. When you furnished it, I know you did it to your mother’s taste, hoping she’d find it comfortable the first time she came. I believe her favorite Irish blessing hangs on a plaque just inside the door.”

“She’ll find it welcoming, there’s no doubt of that,” Moira said. “But there’s a bit more. We’re thinking of something a little longer than a quick visit.”

And here it comes, Luke thought, barely containing a sigh. “Tell me.”

“I’m going to ask for her help with Kate,” Moira began slowly, then added in a rush, “And you’re going to give her my old job at the pub.” Her smile brightened. “Won’t that be grand? With all of her experience, she’ll be far more help than I ever was.”

He studied the hopeful glint in his wife’s eyes and didn’t even try to contain the sigh that came. When he didn’t immediately speak the emphatic no that hovered on his lips, Moira beamed, clearly taking his silence as agreement.

“And you’ll talk to Connor about getting her a work visa as your Irish consultant, just as you did for me?” she asked, referring to his cousin, who’d become a first-rate lawyer. “I understand it may be a bit trickier these days with changes in the law, but I have every confidence Connor can manage it.”

“I’m a bit surprised you haven’t already discussed this with him,” Luke said.

“Never before talking to you,” she said with a hint of indignation that made him chuckle.

“Then you weren’t a hundred percent certain I’d go along with your scheme?”

“Maybe ninety-five percent,” she admitted. “You’ve a stubborn streak that sometimes works against me.”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” he retorted. “You know you have me twisted around your finger. And what you can’t accomplish, Nell can. I’m quite sure she’d have been by first thing tomorrow if you’d put out a distress call.”

“But it’s not coming to that, is it?” she asked hopefully.

Luke studied his wife closely. “Does it mean so much to you to have her come and stay for longer than a brief visit?”

“I think this change is what she needs. So do Nell and Grandfather. And I owe her, Luke. She gave up everything for my brothers and me. I don’t think I realized how hard she worked or how many sacrifices she made until I’d had a taste of working in a pub myself. I used to blame her for not spending more time with us, but now that we have Kate, I can’t imagine being away from her as much as my mum was away from us. It must have been hard for her to put work over her children. My brothers may be ungrateful louts, but I’m not.”

“No, you’re definitely not that,” Luke said, though he couldn’t help regretting it just a little. Then, again, having Kiera underfoot would be a small price to pay for the joy that Moira had brought into his life. “I’ll call Connor in the morning.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Seriously? You’ll do it?”

“Was there ever any doubt? Now, come here, Moira, my love,” he said, beckoning her closer. “Let’s not waste this effort you’ve gone to tonight. I know you think we’re somehow going to gain more time to ourselves with this plan of yours, but I have my doubts. I think we need to take full advantage of this bit of spontaneity.”

“There will be more chances, I promise,” Moira said, launching herself into his arms. “You’ll see.”

It helped her case that the strap on her gown slid off. After that, Luke could barely think of his own name, much less any arguments he might have wanted to offer.

* * *

Moira was thoroughly pleased with her efforts the night before. She might have used a little manipulation to get her way, but she was pretty sure Luke was pleased enough with the reward for his acquiescence.

When there was no response to her tap on the kitchen door at Nell’s, she headed for the garden. Sure enough, Nell was on her knees weeding, while her grandfather observed.

She settled into the Adirondack chair next to his. “Shouldn’t you be helping?” she asked him.

“Fool woman chased me off,” he grumbled. “She claims I don’t know a flower from a weed. Now, I ask you, how am I supposed to tell the difference this time of year? They’re all just green things poking through the dirt.”

Nell glanced up at that. “Wasn’t a nursery among your business interests in Ireland?”

“Yes, and others ran it quite successfully,” he countered.

Nell turned to Moira. “If he were half as uninvolved in that business as he claims, you’d think by now he’d have let me educate him about the difference,” she said tartly. “I think he finds it convenient not to know.”

Moira laughed. It was obviously a familiar argument. “Something tells me you’re right, Nell. My grandfather has mastered any number of skills over the years. If he’s not grasping this one, there’s a reason for it.”

Nell took off her gardening gloves. When she went to stand up, Moira started to her feet to assist her, only to be waved off.

“The day I can’t get up on my own, I’ll have to give this up,” Nell said. “And since I don’t intend to do that until I’m dead and gone, I’ll manage.”

“At least you got her to take a break for a cup of tea,” Dillon said. “I’ve been trying since I came out here. It’s probably stone-cold by now.”

Still he poured her a cup and set it on the table beside her chair. “If you’d like a cup, you’ll need to run into the house for one,” he told Moira.

“Nothing for me. I just dropped Kate off at day care and stopped by here to give you both an update.”

“You’ve talked to Kiera, then?” Nell said.

“No, only to Luke. He’s agreed to the plan.”

“I’ve no intention of asking how you persuaded him,” her grandfather said. “I’ll just accept the outcome as a blessing.”

“He’s promised to speak to Connor this morning to get him started on the paperwork. Now, if you’ll make an airline reservation for Mum, I think we can put our plan in motion,” Moira told him.

Dillon nodded at once. “I’ll go straight in and do that now, though I’d probably best buy the kind that’s refundable just in case she balks,” he said. He touched Nell’s cheek. “Shall I warm that tea for you?”

“I’m fine with it as it is,” she said, covering his fingers with hers and giving them a brief squeeze.

Moira watched the two of them with a catch in her throat. Would she and Luke have that same sort of devotion after so many years? Of course, Nell and Dillon had fallen in love as teenagers, then separated and had families before being reunited. Perhaps that was why they were so grateful for their second chance.

She turned and caught Nell studying her.

“You’re pleased by the prospect of having your mother here?” Nell asked. “I know the two of you haven’t always had an easy time of it.”

“True enough,” Moira admitted. “But I think I understand the choices she made a little better now. I want her to finally have some of the happiness she deserves. I think she may find that here. There’s a lot to be said for a fresh start.”

“Especially in Chesapeake Shores,” Nell said.

“Yes, especially in Chesapeake Shores.”

Which was why later that very afternoon, as Kate conveniently cried in the background, Moira called her mum and, with a note of desperation in her voice, pleaded for Kiera to come to Chesapeake Shores for an extended visit.

“I don’t need to be at loose ends in a strange country,” Kiera argued. “Peter’s children have offered me a place at the pub for as long as I want to stay on. They’ll even boost my pay if I’m willing to take on managing it, so they can go blissfully on with their own lives.”

“And you’re willing to accept their charity?” Moira asked, putting the worst possible spin on what had no doubt been a genuine and well-meant offer that would benefit all of them, including her mother.

Her comment was greeted with silence, which told Moira her mother had considered the very same thing. They were very much alike in questioning the real motive behind any kindness they might feel was undeserved.

“We’re your family, not them. You won’t be in the way here,” Moira said, pressing her tiny advantage. “I truly need the help, and you should spend a little time with your first grandchild. And with me traveling so much lately, Luke could use your presence at the pub. The customers like chatting with someone with an Irish lilt in their voice. It provides a touch of authenticity.”

“So I’m to be the Irish window dressing?” Kiera asked, the once-familiar tart sarcasm back in her voice. “How is that an improvement over accepting charity from the McDonoughs?”

“The job here would be much more than that,” Moira promised. “This is a family business, and you’re family. It would be almost the same as if it were your own restaurant.”

“I doubt Luke would see it that way. Wasn’t this pub his dream? Besides, it’s not as if I can waltz in and take a job in America,” Kiera protested. “I know there are laws about that sort of thing.”

“Luke’s cousin Connor will handle the legalities of a work visa, just as he did for me,” Moira assured her. “Focus on spending time with little Kate for now. I can’t wait for you to see her in person. She’s growing so fast, and she’s a handful. You’ll probably find her to be a lot like me in that respect.”

With the baby’s pitiful cries to lend credence to her story, Moira gave a silent fist pump when Kiera reluctantly agreed to take the very flight that Dillon had already booked. As she hung up, Moira gave the baby a noisy kiss that changed tears to smiles.

“Now we’ve only to find a way to make her stay,” she said.

And that, most likely, was going to be a far more difficult task. Kiera might be feeling a bit vulnerable at the moment, but it wouldn’t last. And when her fine temper was restored, there could be hell to pay for their manipulation.


Chapter 2 (#u759c93d3-b3bd-5062-b4f9-8f1055888241)

Kiera had seen pictures of Chesapeake Shores, some on postcards, but many more taken by her daughter. None, however, had prepared her for the tug of recognition she felt as Moira and Luke drove her through the quaint downtown area with its charming shops, circled the town green with its display of colorful tulips and then turned onto Shore Road en route to their home. To their left, the Chesapeake Bay sparkled in the sunlight. The sky above was a brilliant blue. A few impressive sailboats were taking advantage of the morning breeze.

“It’s a bit like a seaside village in Ireland, isn’t it?” she said, taking it all in. “The architecture’s very different, to be sure, but the feel of it’s the same.”

Moira beamed at her. “That’s exactly how I saw it when I first came to town. I felt at home here almost at once. And you know it was Luke’s uncle Mick O’Brien who designed it all from scratch and built on what was once farmland. He’s a famous architect, and Luke’s brother, Matthew, works for him now.”

“It’s hard to imagine having the vision to design an entire town,” Kiera said, in awe of the thought. “The villages in Ireland go back for centuries and are a hodgepodge of styles jumbled together in cozy harmony. Mick must possess an impressive imagination.”

“And I couldn’t even build a playhouse for our Kate with the design spelled out quite simply for me,” Luke told her. “I had to ask Uncle Mick and Matthew for help. It was a humbling experience.”

Kiera knew a thing or two about asking for help, no matter how needed it might be. She sympathized with him. “Did they torment you for asking?”

“My brother will never let me forget it,” Luke confirmed, then shrugged off the humiliation. “That’s okay, though. He wouldn’t know one ale from the next if I didn’t draw his attention to it. We each have our own skills.”

Kiera laughed, then noted that the comment had been made with a perfect bit of timing. “Ah, and there’s O’Brien’s,” she exclaimed as she spotted the pub. There was no mistaking its Irish heritage with its dark green sign with gold lettering. the same type of sign that could be found on nearly every corner back home. “You’ve captured the look of it exactly right,” she told Luke.

“Thank you. That was the idea.”

“Have you thought of adding window boxes overflowing with flowers beneath the windows?” Kiera asked. “That would add another authentic touch. We Irish love our flowers and any chance to display them in a profusion of color. I think they’re meant to counterpoint our gray and rainy days.”

Luke smiled. “There you are, already earning your keep as a consultant, Kiera.”

“I told you she’d be filled with ideas,” Moira said. “Just wait until you see inside, Mother. Luke imported an antique bar from a pub in Ireland that we visited. The son of the longtime owner had persuaded him to modernize. We didn’t waste breath telling him what a mistake he was making. Luke just made the deal and we rushed right out the door. You’ll swear you’re back home again.”

“And yet wasn’t the goal to give me a fresh start in a new place?” Kiera teased.

Moira regarded her with a serious expression. “But don’t you see? It will be easier if it feels at least a little bit like home. I’ve had hardly a pang of homesickness since I’ve been here.”

Kiera reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know. I was teasing you.”

To Kiera’s regret, Moira looked surprisingly startled by that.

“Really?” Moira asked, as if the concept were completely foreign to her.

Kiera sighed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked by your reaction. There wasn’t much lightness and laughter or teasing when you were growing up. Peter reminded me that I had buried my sense of humor down deep. He helped me recover it. He reminded me that laughter is a gift that gets us through the difficult times. I’d like to hold on to that bit of wisdom at least, now that he’s left us.”

Moira’s eyes immediately turned misty. “Mum, I’m so sorry he’s gone.”

“So am I. On my good days I’m determined to hang on to the positive memories and treasure the changes he brought to my life. At first I wasn’t sure I could do that, but it’s almost as if I hear him whispering in my ear that I must, that I can’t retreat back into my old ways.” She gave her daughter a knowing look. “Believe me, I know that’s a concern for you and your grandfather, as well.”

“We’ll help with it,” Moira promised. “And Kate will be the answer to your prayers. It’s hard to go more than a minute without smiling at something she’s done. She’s such a blessing.”

“I can’t wait to meet my very first grandchild,” Kiera told her. “Imagine me, old enough to be a grandmother. There was many a day I wasn’t sure I’d survive being a mother, and here you are, a mother yourself and a successful photographer.”

Luke stopped again in front of a storefront down the block from the pub. There were several stunning, very modern paintings in the windows. Though Kiera knew nothing of art at all, the wildness of these spoke to her on some level she couldn’t entirely explain. It was as if she’d experienced the emotions they evoked so vibrantly.

“This is where Moira’s works were first exhibited,” Luke said proudly. “I know Peter encouraged her, but my aunt Megan is the expert over here who discovered her photography.”

“And has nagged at me until I almost believe I have real talent,” Moira said. “I wake up some days pinching myself when I see an advertisement for my work in some famous gallery in New York or on the West Coast.”

“Peter was so proud of you,” Kiera told her. “He bragged about you to every customer who came into the pub and pointed out all of your pictures on the walls. Original works by Moira O’Brien, he’d tell them, then show them the programs from your exhibits in America. He was so pleased that you sent those to him. He loved you like a daughter, you know.”

“Stop or you’ll have me bawling,” Moira protested. “Let’s go home, Luke. I want Mum to see our house and meet our Kate. After flying all night, she’s no doubt anxious for a bit of a rest.”

“I would like nothing more than to hug my granddaughter, then have a hot shower,” Kiera admitted. “And perhaps a cup of tea. Then I’ll be ready to see your grandfather and Nell and see whatever else the day has in store.”

“Nell has invited the whole family for an afternoon barbecue in your honor,” Moira told her. “I tried to tell her it might be too overwhelming after your long flight, but she insisted. She wants you to feel welcome. And Grandfather is anxious to see for himself that you’re doing okay after everything that’s happened.”

“When am I to begin working for you, Luke, beyond suggesting window boxes as I just did? If I’m going to be here for a while, I want to pay my own way.”

If she hadn’t been watching her son-in-law so closely she might not have noticed just the slightest hesitation, the quick glance between him and Moira. “Is there some problem you haven’t mentioned?”

“Just a bit of a delay on the paperwork,” Luke said hurriedly. “My cousin says there’s nothing to worry about. Things like this are just taking longer these days. You might have to wait before officially starting on the job.”

Kiera’s spirits sank. Her fresh start was clearly more precarious than they’d led her to believe. “There’s no job?”

“Of course there’s a job,” Moira said, casting a defiant look at Luke. “It will just be unofficial for the time being. You’ll still be consulting.”

“But this consulting work will be an unpaid position?” Kiera asked, determined to clarify her status. “I’ll be living here on your charity?” It was exactly what she hadn’t wanted, to be a burden on her daughter and Luke. She’d agreed to come for a lengthy stay only because of the promise that she’d be earning her keep.

“You’re family, Kiera. There’s no charity in this,” Luke quickly assured her. “You’ll be paid for the work you do, just not as an official employee until we can work out the legalities.”

“How long might that take?”

“Connor is certain it will go smoothly,” Moira insisted.

“A few weeks at the most,” Luke said.

Kiera sighed heavily. “I see.” She’d cut her ties with home, only to find herself with an uncertain future.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Moira said. “And you’re wrong. This is going to work out. You’ll see.”

“Perhaps we should have been more certain of that before I came,” she replied wearily.

“Kiera, you can talk to Connor yourself later today,” Luke said. “He’ll be able to reassure you.”

She was suddenly far too exhausted to argue. “Then I’ll wait and see,” she said, then amended silently, and try not to feel discouraged.

But if there was no hope for a reasonably quick resolution to her work status here, then she would have to make a call to the McDonoughs and see if there was any chance she could go back to work for them in Dublin. Even if Luke and her daughter did their best to convince her that she had a place here with them, she’d spent too many years counting on no one but herself to settle for that. The fact that she could make her own way in the world was the one thing in which she’d always taken pride. Now more than ever, she needed to cling to that faith in her own abilities.

All thoughts of that discouraging news flew out the window, though, when Keira walked into Moira’s home and met her granddaughter. With her rosy, round cheeks, halo of strawberry blond curls and blue eyes welling with tears, she was the spitting image of Moira as a baby, as was the temper tantrum she was throwing.

“I’m so sorry,” the young girl who’d been babysitting said when they came in. “I wanted her to look perfect for your arrival, but she objected to me changing her, then kicked off her shoes and screamed bloody murder when I tried to put her in her playpen.”

Kiera reached for Kate anyway, feeling a tug she hadn’t felt since the first time she’d held Moira in the hospital so long ago. The baby gave her a startled look, then settled in her arms with a sleepy sigh, worn out by her tantrum.

“You’ve a golden touch,” Moira said happily. “I knew you would.”

Kiera smiled. “Experience,” she told her daughter.

Luke laughed. “So Moira’s moods started that early?”

“In the cradle,” Kiera confirmed. “And just like our Kate, it was hard to hold them against her, when she was so perfect in other ways.”

When she glanced at Moira, she saw that tears were tracking down her cheeks. “What?” she asked, worried that she’d upset her within minutes of walking in the door.

“You thought I was perfect,” Moira whispered.

“Of course I did. Now I imagine Luke sees you that way, too.”

“Love must come with blinders, then,” Moira said, smiling. “A good thing, too.”

* * *

“Kiera, love, you seem awfully quiet,” Dillon said, drawing Kiera away from the crowd of O’Briens scattered across Nell’s yard. “Are you needing a bit of a rest? I’m sure everyone would understand if you wanted to go back to Moira’s or even just inside to lie down in our guest room here for a quick nap.”

Kiera saw the genuine concern in her father’s eyes and, not for the first time today, wanted to give in and let the tears flow. She’d shed plenty when Peter first died a few months ago, but none since. And as much as she’d wanted to cry when Luke and Moira had filled her in on the delay to her work visa, she’d held back, stayed strong and hidden her panic as she’d learned to do so well over the years. She’d never wanted her children to experience every uncertainty that terrified her.

Now, though, she wanted to feel her father’s strong arms around her, comforting her as he had when she was a girl and had skinned her knee or had her heart broken. She wondered what Dillon would think if she just buried her face in his chest and sobbed, as she held on tight.

Instead, she forced a smile. “I’m okay, Dad.”

“I’m not convinced of that,” he said. “Even after all these years, I can tell when you’re in pain. And why wouldn’t you be? Peter’s death was a shock. And coming here is a huge change.” He studied her knowingly. “It’s been a while since you’ve taken so many risks at once.”

Surprised by his insight, she murmured, “You have no idea.”

“Do you think I didn’t have a few moments of uncertainty when I agreed to pick up everything and leave Ireland to be with Nell?”

She smiled at that. “You, uncertain? I can’t imagine such a thing.”

“Only a fool doesn’t have second thoughts when they risk a big change,” he told her. “The brave move forward and do it anyway, because they believe the rewards will be worth it. Having Nell with me for the rest of our lives was worth everything I gave up. And despite how it turned out, I know you’re at least a little happy that you had Peter in your life, even if it was for far too brief a time.”

A knot formed in Kiera’s throat, preventing speech, but she nodded. When she could finally find the words, she whispered, “He was the best man I’ve ever known.”

“And coming here to Chesapeake Shores will be another of those risks that will turn out well in the end,” he promised. “You’ll look back someday and be unable to imagine being anywhere else.” He glanced around until his gaze settled on Nell. His entire expression softened. “I know this is where I belong.”

Though she was touched by the sentiment in his voice and on his face, she frowned at his words. “I’m only staying temporarily,” she reminded him. “Even if that work visa finally comes through, it won’t last forever. Don’t be thinking of this move as permanent.”

“I’m hoping you’ll change your mind about that. We all are.” He beckoned a young man over. “Connor, please tell Kiera that everything will work out in the end.”

“I’m doing everything I can to speed things along,” Connor assured her.

“And I’ve made a few calls myself,” Mick O’Brien said, joining them.

Connor scowled at his father. “Dad, haven’t I warned you that your meddling with immigration could actually make things more difficult?”

Mick looked undaunted by the criticism. “Haven’t you learned by now that contacts are to be used cleverly when you have them?”

“And now I’m the cause of a family squabble,” Kiera said with regret.

All three men laughed. “Not to worry, Kiera,” Mick assured her. “Connor and I could squabble over the color of the sky. It doesn’t mean anything. One of these days he’ll come to respect my judgment, rather than taking issue with my attempts to help. I think standing his ground with me has made him far more effective in the courtroom, though I doubt he’ll admit that, either.”

“I can’t deny that I’ve had more experience at winning lively debates than most of the lawyers I encounter,” Connor said. He grinned at Mick. “I will thank you for that, at least.” He gave Kiera a reassuring look. “Stop worrying. Leave that to me.”

Mick nodded. “You are in good hands, Kiera.”

His words seemed as much of a shock to Connor as they were a reassurance to her.

“Now, why don’t we grab some of Ma’s apple pie before it’s all gone?” Mick said. “I know where there’s an extra quart of vanilla ice cream to go with it.” He feigned a dark scowl for Dillon’s benefit. “Don’t tell Ma I know about her secret stash in the spare refrigerator on the back porch.”

“Not a chance,” Dillon said. “I’m happy to learn of it myself. Now when she tells me we’re all out of my favorite ice cream, I can see for myself if she’s fibbing to keep me from overindulging.”

Kiera was swept off on the sound of the men conspiring and on the reassurance of Mick O’Brien’s confidence. She wanted desperately to believe that Connor had her situation under control, and Mick’s faith in his son made her more hopeful than she’d been just minutes ago.

* * *

For a few blissful days Kiera allowed herself to recuperate from the unfamiliar effects of jet lag. She indulged in playing with little Kate, who, as predicted, was a constant source of joy, even when her temper kicked in to remind Kiera of how impossible Moira had been at the same age and, truth be told, well beyond it.

But by the end of her first week in Chesapeake Shores, she was anxious to get to the pub and see for herself just how well Luke had re-created a bit of Ireland here on the Chesapeake Bay in Maryland.

To ensure that he couldn’t put her off yet again, she was dressed and ready by nine in the morning, the time he usually kissed Kate goodbye and headed to O’Brien’s to handle paperwork and such before the pub opened for lunch. She had Kate in her carrier, ready to go along, as well. Moira had gone off to a meeting with Megan to look through some of her latest pictures, which fit in quite nicely with Kiera’s plan.

“What’s this?” Luke asked, regarding the two of them suspiciously as they sat on the front porch when he emerged from the house.

“We thought we’d accompany you to work this morning,” Kiera said brightly. “We won’t stay too long. Moira’s just down the street meeting with Megan, so we can catch a ride home with her or walk back on our own, since it’s such a lovely spring day with not a cloud in the sky.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Clearly you’ve thought of everything.”

Kiera nodded. “I tried to be thorough.”

“So you’ve tired of just hanging around the house babysitting?”

“I will never tire of being with my precious granddaughter, but I want to see the inside of this pub of yours so I can start making a contribution. You can tell me what your needs and expectations are, as well.”

Luke nodded, an unexpected grin spreading across his face.

“What is it about this that has you smiling?” Kiera asked.

“Your daughter owes me a fancy dinner at Brady’s,” he said. “I told her your patience was unlikely to last another day. She was sure you’d make it through another week.”

“The two of you have been making bets about this?”

Luke immediately looked guilty. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have told you that. It’s just something that we do when we see things differently, a way to take advantage of whichever one of us is proven right in the end.”

“My Moira isn’t enough of a challenge as it is?” Kiera asked.

Luke laughed. “Oh, she will never stop being a challenge, that’s for sure, but she’s mellowed since she’s been here. I think she’s mostly content with her life.”

“I’m glad for that,” Kiera told him. “She didn’t have an easy time of it growing up, between never really knowing her dad and me working nonstop just to keep our heads above water. I know she saw how bitter and resentful I was, but I doubt she realized how much of it rubbed off on her and changed her own view of the world. I’ve seen that mellowing you’re talking about since I’ve been here. I’ve heard it in her voice when we’ve talked on the phone. You, your family, this place, it’s all been good for her.”

“I think maybe it’s Megan who’s done the most for her. Learning that she has a genuine, sought-after talent has given Moira a self-confidence she was lacking when we met. She was spirited enough, but it was based on sheer grit and stubbornness. Now it’s grounded in a sense of self-worth.”

Kiera gave him an appraising look. “You know her well.”

“I love her,” he said simply. “I think I did from the day we met. Knowing her well took a little more time and a lot more understanding.”

Kiera was surprised by his openness about his feelings and his maturity. “I think I’m going to enjoy getting to know you better, Luke O’Brien. You’re a fine man.”

“We’ll see how you feel after you’ve worked with me for a time,” he said.

Kiera laughed. “I’ve worked for a tyrant or two in my day,” she said. “You’ll hold no surprises if you turn out to be another one.”

“Hopefully not a tyrant,” he said.

“We’ll see what your staff says about that,” she said. “Now tell me about them.”

On the quick drive to the pub, he ran through the short list of waitstaff, many of whom were college students working part-time. “You’ll be working most closely with the chef, Bryan Laramie,” he concluded. “Bryan’s pretty easygoing, but he considers the kitchen his domain.”

“The name doesn’t sound Irish.”

Luke chuckled at that. “No, Bryan’s a New Yorker by birth, a graduate of the Culinary Institute, who landed somehow in Baltimore working at a deli. I’ve never heard the whole story about that. He doesn’t talk much about himself or his past.”

“Isn’t a deli one of those places known for matzo ball soup and pastrami on rye sandwiches?”

“Among other things, yes.”

“Why would you hire someone like that to run the kitchen in an Irish pub?” Kiera asked.

“Of all the applicants, Moira and I liked him the best. And Nell put him to a test with some of her best recipes and he won the position hands down over two others we considered. You’ll see. He knows his way around the kitchen and we’re building something of a reputation for the quality of our food, as well as for our selection of ale and the fine Irish music we bring in on the weekends.”

“Then I’ll keep an open mind,” Kiera promised.

Luke gave her a worried look. “Kiera, O’Brien’s runs smoothly because we operate as a team. We all know our roles and respect each other’s contributions, from the waitstaff and kitchen staff all the way through to Moira and me.”

“And where exactly am I to fit in?”

“Once you’ve spent a little time learning the way we operate, getting to know our regular customers and so on, you’ll make recommendations just as any of the rest of us might. We’re always open to fresh ideas. And anything that ensures our customers of a true Irish experience will be especially welcomed. We’ll trust you about that.”

It all sounded perfectly reasonable to her, even if offering a little less control than she’d been anticipating. Still, she would have Luke’s ear if there were changes she felt needed to be made in the name of Irish authenticity.

“How will you be introducing me to the staff?” she asked. “Am I to be one of them, or a consultant only, as Moira suggested, or a nosy troublesome mother-in-law who happens to be visiting from Ireland and can’t keep her opinions to herself?”

Luke gave her a curious glance. “Are you in need of a formal title?”

“Not for my ego,” she replied tartly. “But it will be a help to all of us, if I know my place.”

“Since I can’t give you an official position just yet until Connor settles that paperwork, why don’t we just say you’re helping out and lending us your expertise from years of working in pubs in Ireland?”

Kiera nodded slowly. “So a voice, but no authority.”

“Something like that,” Luke said, his tone cautious. “Are you okay with that for now?”

“I’ll do my best to make it work,” she said. She’d spent years under similar restraint in her old job. She’d had far more freedom and say at Peter’s pub, but she could put that aside for now. At least she hoped she could, if only in the name of family harmony.

* * *

Bryan looked up from the Irish soda bread he was about to put into the oven to see Kiera Malone regarding him intently, her expression radiating disapproval.

“Something on your mind?” he asked.

“Just observing,” she said, backing off a step.

“But you have something to say. I can see that you’re practically biting your tongue. Just say it.”

Ever since Kiera had been introduced to the staff at O’Brien’s, she’d been lurking about, observing as she put it. It was driving him a little bit crazy. He didn’t like extra people milling about in his kitchen, especially with an unmistakable hint of judgment in their eyes. He’d grown used to being respected, thanks to regular praise from not only the customers, but from Nell O’Brien, who was his go-to person for inspiration with the menu and its execution.

To be fair, from what he’d seen, Kiera was a hard worker in general and she got on well enough with the customers and even the waitstaff. She wasn’t still for a minute and was always eager to take on any task that was given to her, even pitching in to help out washing dishes or scrubbing the floor after hours. All of that was admirable.

It was the way she watched him as he worked, though, that made him want to banish her from his kitchen. It was only out of respect for Luke and Moira that he’d kept his mouth shut till now and tried to accept her presence underfoot.

He studied her expression and could tell she was torn between speaking out and staying silent. “Just say whatever’s on your mind before your head explodes,” he told her impatiently.

“The soda bread is going to be hard as a rock,” she blurted finally.

He frowned at her. “And just why is that?”

“You were pounding it as if you had a grudge against it,” she told him.

Bryan drew in a deep breath to try to calm himself before he said something he’d regret. It was true, he’d been taking out his frustration over Kiera’s presence on the dough. And, quite likely, she was right. Overkneading would be the kiss of death for the soda bread. It would likely be inedible.

Rather than admitting as much, however, he simply gestured to the array of ingredients. “Would you like to show me how it’s done?”

Her expression brightened at once. “You won’t be offended?”

Given that it was his way of saving face when his own loaves of bread were tossed in the trash, no, he wouldn’t be offended at all.

“Have at it,” he said, instead. “I have other work to do if we’re to be ready when the doors open for lunch.”

When he turned back a few minutes later, Kiera was lovingly kneading the bread with a touch that stirred an annoying hint of longing. Out of the blue a shocking image of those hands on him, massaging his shoulders at the end of the day, made him more irritable than ever. Images like that were not only inappropriate, they were totally unwelcome. At this rate, the woman was going to drive him to the brink of insanity and she hadn’t even been underfoot a full week.


Chapter 3 (#u759c93d3-b3bd-5062-b4f9-8f1055888241)

When Kiera emerged from her room on her day off, she found Moira on the porch with a cup of tea, looking far more relaxed than she usually did during the family’s hectic mornings.

“What are you doing all alone out here?” Kiera asked, drawing her robe more tightly around her to ward off the early-morning chill. “And where’s your sweater? The air’s cool and damp today. You’ll catch a cold.”

Moira chuckled. “It’s been a few years since you’ve scolded me like that. You call this weather cool and damp after living by the sea in Ireland? Have you been away so long already that you’ve forgotten what cool and damp are truly like? I remember it clearly. The fog rolling in off the water, the dampness seeping into your bones. This weather today is nothing that a nice cup of tea can’t improve. May I get you one?”

“I’ll do it for myself in a minute,” Kiera said. “So what are your plans for the day? Usually by now you’re already out the door with your camera in hand.”

“I have the whole day entirely to myself,” Moira said. “Luke took Kate over to Carrie’s today. The babysitter will pick her up later. Since you’re off as well, I thought you and I could do something together, perhaps starting with breakfast at Sally’s.”

“Why there, when I could fix something for us here?” Kiera asked.

“It’s become a tradition for the O’Brien women who have businesses downtown to gather there every morning before they start their workday,” Moira explained. “You’ve been here a couple of weeks now. You should really get to know them. I find listening to them talk about balancing work and family to be inspirational. On my bad days, they help me to believe I can successfully juggle it all.”

“I’ve already met them all,” Kiera reminded her.

“At Christmas in Ireland years ago and at Nell’s when you first arrived here. That’s hardly time to get to know them. I’ll bet you can’t even put names with faces yet.”

Kiera lifted a brow. “Is that a dare I hear in your voice? Your husband seems to think your marriage depends on these little bets you have between you. Are you taking that tack with me, too?”

Moira blinked and color rose in her cheeks. “Luke told you about our bets?”

“He did,” she said, chuckling at her daughter’s dismay. She had a feeling they weren’t talking about precisely the same bets. Some must take an interesting and intimate twist from time to time. It was probably best that she didn’t know the details of those.

“Are you daring me to name the O’Brien women when we see them at the restaurant?” Kiera persisted. “Have you forgotten that a good waitress must have a knack for keeping her regular customers’ names straight in her head, along with their food preferences and any other details they might reveal over time?”

“Then you’re accepting the challenge?” Moira asked, sounding surprised.

“Of course, but what’s the reward if I prove myself?”

“I will treat you to a full day of pampering—a manicure, pedicure, all the spa treatments you can imagine, including a new hairstyle.”

Rather than succumbing to the temptation of such an indulgence, Kiera bristled. “And what is wrong with my hairstyle?”

“Nothing at all,” Moira said hurriedly. “But twisting your hair into a tight knot on top of your head isn’t exactly a style, now, is it, at least not of the sort they show in fashion magazines? In your case it’s merely a convenience.”

“It’s the way I’ve worn it for years. It suits me and it meets regulations at any restaurant.”

“Now, there’s an explanation to make any woman proud of her appearance,” Moira argued. “Besides, the truth is that you do it mostly because it’s easy and familiar.”

“Haven’t you shaken up my routine enough in recent weeks?” Kiera grumbled. “Are you now concerned with my frumpy appearance?”

“You’re not frumpy,” Moira declared hurriedly. “Just a wee bit dated, perhaps. Most women like a change now and again. I thought you’d be pleased by the prospect. I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

Kiera sighed. “I know you weren’t. And it’s a lovely offer. If I win, I’ll let you make me over however you like.”

Moira’s eyes narrowed. “You aren’t going to lose on purpose just to thwart my efforts, are you?”

“Girl, don’t you know me well enough to know that I never lose anything on purpose? We’re a lot alike in that way.”

Moira laughed then. “We are, indeed.”

“And what if you win and I can’t name everyone? What am I to give you?”

“The chance to spend the day with you at a spa,” Moira said.

“Clever,” Kiera said approvingly. “You’ve a knack for getting your own way, no matter what.”

“Something my husband has learned very well,” Moira replied with a saucy grin.

A half hour later, they walked in the door at Sally’s. The brightly lit, cozy café, which was just across from the town green, was crowded with people sipping coffee and having a chat before work. Some had plates piled high with eggs and sausages and bacon. Others had croissants, some raspberry, some chocolate. Both looked delicious. Kiera’s mouth watered.

When she could tear her gaze away from the flaky croissants, Kiera immediately spotted several of the O’Brien women seated at a large round table in the back.

“We used to sit in a booth with everyone coming and going as their workdays began,” Moira told her as she started to weave her way between tables. “But it got to the point, there were so many of us and none of us wanted to miss anything that we took over the bigger table in back.” She leaned closer. “We stole it right out from under some of the men in town, who thought they’d earned a permanent right to it,” she confided. “I think that was the real reason we made the move.”

Kiera chuckled, pleased by the thought of getting to know some women who weren’t intimidated by anyone. She stopped en route to joining them and put a hand on Moira’s arm to halt her progress. “Shall we put my memory to the test now before we join them or would you prefer that I demonstrate by greeting them one by one?”

Amusement sparkled in her daughter’s eyes. “Your choice.”

“Then I’ll go and say hello,” Kiera said, walking the last few steps to the table and approaching Mick’s wife first. “Good morning, Megan. I’d love to know more about those paintings in the window at your gallery. I’ve been admiring them ever since I arrived. And Bree, how are you today? As soon as Flowers on Main opens this morning, I’ll be in to buy some fresh flowers to take home. Shanna, I’ll be stopping by your bookstore later, as well. I’m told you carry a fine selection of cozy mysteries. They’re my favorite. Heather, the quilt you have in the window of your store is lovely. Did you make it yourself?”

She turned to Moira. “Have I done this to your satisfaction?”

Moira blushed as the others regarded them curiously. “I’m afraid I made the mistake of betting my mum that she’d never remember each of your names. She’s gone me one better by noting which shops you own, too.”

“Don’t you know you should never underrate a mother’s hidden talents?” Megan teased, laughing. “Kiera, I think it’s a common curse. Children never think we have any skills worth noting.”

“I won’t make that mistake again,” Moira vowed. “This one is costing me a trip to a day spa.”

“Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a day of pampering,” Bree said with a sigh, holding up her hands for inspection. “I have far too many nicks from thorns and floral wire, and my nails are totally ragged.”

“Then come along,” Kiera said readily.

“Oh, do,” Moira chimed in. “It will be fun to have a totally indulgent girls’ day.”

“Sadly, I don’t have anyone to take over for me at the shop today,” Bree said. “But if you go again, count me in.”

The talk turned to family gossip and bits of town news. Even though Kiera didn’t know all of the people whose names were tossed about, there was something surprisingly soothing about being treated as a member of this boisterous group that laughed almost as frequently as they spoke. She felt more a part of them than she had on the day they’d first welcomed her at Nell’s. That was a more formal occasion, and while it had been meant to make her feel included, she’d really felt like an outsider who had something to prove. Today she felt accepted. After years of living as if it was her against the world, it was startling how good that simple act of acceptance felt.

* * *

Bryan had felt oddly edgy all day. He’d glanced over his shoulder half a dozen times, expecting to see Kiera Malone lurking about, watching him as she had ever since her first unofficial day on the job at O’Brien’s. Instead, there’d been no sign of her. And, ironically, that bothered him almost as much as her presence. He was obviously losing it.

“You seem a bit off-kilter today,” Luke said as Bryan took a rare break to sit at the bar and have a cup of coffee while the pub was in a lull between lunch and dinner. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Bryan said. “It’s been quieter than usual, don’t you think?”

Luke gave him an incredulous look. “Did you not keep count of how many meals you were putting together at lunch? We had an entire busload of tourists come in, along with our regulars.”

Bryan felt his cheeks heat. “Well, of course, there were a lot of customers. I was talking about...” His voice trailed off. There was no way to explain without giving himself away.

“Are you, by any chance, referring to Kiera’s absence?” Luke inquired, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Is she not around?” Bryan asked, trying to seem disinterested.

Luke just laughed. “Nice try, my friend, but I know she’s been getting under your skin.”

“Not at all. It’s just that...” Again, he couldn’t think of any words that wouldn’t either imply too much or be insulting somehow to his boss’s mother-in-law. Neither would be good.

“It’s just that she’s always underfoot in your kitchen,” Luke guessed.

Bryan sighed. “Something like that.”

“Is it too much?” Luke asked, real concern in his voice. “I can tell her to back off, to go through me if she has suggestions.”

“That would be making too much of it,” Bryan said, though it was exactly what he wanted. “I’m just not used to having someone question every move I make.”

Worry continued to darken Luke’s eyes. “Is that what she’s doing? You know I trust you. More important, my grandmother trusts that you know what you’re doing, and it’s her opinion we live by when it comes to the food here. Everybody in town enjoys an invitation to Nell O’Brien’s table. Since we’ve been open, they now feel they can have that sort of meal right here anytime they want. I don’t want anyone to suggest we don’t have faith in the way you’re running the kitchen.”

“To be honest, Kiera doesn’t say all that much unless I urge her to speak up. It’s just the look on her face. I know she’s biting her tongue to keep from offending me. It makes me nervous.”

“Are you sure it has nothing to do with her being an attractive woman?” Luke taunted. “I know she might be a couple of years older than you and I see her only as Moira’s mother, but I’ve seen the way the gazes of some of our regulars follow her when she’s in the room. It’s little wonder that you’re not immune.”

Bryan scowled. “This is most definitely not about that,” he said flatly. “I’m not saying she’s not attractive, just that I’m not interested in her in that way. It would be inappropriate. She’s my boss’s mother-in-law. That makes her off-limits. Period.”

“Said a little too emphatically, if you ask me,” Luke noted, laughing. “But I’ll take you at your word. If you want me to speak to her, keep her out of the kitchen, just let me know. I’ve told her that’s your domain. I can remind her again.”

“That would be making too much of it,” Bryan said again, feeling foolish about the entire conversation. It had probably been far too telling. Kiera Malone rattled him, and he wasn’t entirely prepared to say why. He wasn’t even sure if he could explain it to himself. And he certainly wasn’t about to endure Luke’s teasing by making some faltering attempt to explain it to him.

* * *

It was well past six when Kiera and Moira left the spa and headed straight for O’Brien’s for something to eat. Kiera had a hunch Moira was more excited about showing off her mother’s makeover than she was about her own.

Kiera still wasn’t used to the image she saw when she looked into the mirror. She looked ten years younger. That’s what the hairstylist had told her about the shorter cut, and Moira had agreed. Kiera wasn’t sure about ten years, but she did feel lighter and more feminine somehow. And not all of the color in her cheeks was due to the blush they’d applied at the salon. She felt surprisingly good about her new look, though oddly uneasy about showing it off at the pub.

When her daughter held open the door for her at O’Brien’s, Kiera hesitated ever so slightly.

“Mum, what are you afraid of? You look amazing.”

“I don’t feel like myself at all. At my age, there’s no need for this sort of nonsense.”

“At your age?” Moira mocked. “You’re far from over the hill. Pretty polish on your nails, skin that glows and a haircut that frames your face is not unnecessary nonsense. Every woman deserves to feel beautiful, whatever her age. As soon as we’re inside, I’m going to get my camera out of Luke’s office and take some pictures, so you can see yourself as I do.”

“The last thing I want is a fuss. I don’t want to be the center of attention,” Kiera said nervously.

Moira sighed. “Will you please just come inside and graciously accept all of the compliments that I know are going to come your way?”

“Is that supposed to make me less nervous?” Kiera grumbled, but she did walk into the pub, relieved to see that it was busy enough that she might not even be noticed. Of course, that didn’t take into account that Mick and Megan were seated at the bar, as they often were, along with Luke’s parents, Jeff and Jo O’Brien.

It was Megan who caught sight of her first.

“Oh my, look at you,” she said, coming over to clasp Kiera’s icy hands. “You look fabulous, Kiera.” She turned to the rest of the family. “Doesn’t she?”

“I would hardly have recognized you,” Mick said. “I like the new hairstyle. It becomes you.”

Jo beamed. “I need someone to take me in hand, as Moira did for you. I haven’t had a makeover in years and I am in sad need of one. Being on the athletic field at the high school all day long wreaks havoc with my skin and my hair. Kiera, you’re putting all of the O’Brien women to shame with this new look of yours.” She grinned at Megan. “Well, perhaps not her. Megan has always been stylish from head to toe.”

“It’s those trips to Paris I insist Mick take me on,” Megan replied. “I sit in cafés and observe what the French women are wearing, then adapt it for Chesapeake Shores. I think I’ve learned to knot scarves in at least twenty different ways.”

“And I always thought there was only one way,” Jo said ruefully.

Kiera was happy to have their attention diverted from her for the moment and fascinated by the teasing between the sisters-in-law. It continued to astonish her how well the O’Briens meshed as a family, despite differences in styles, opinions and personalities.

Luke beckoned Kiera over to the bar. “I need a closer look at this transformation,” he said. “Is this the same woman I saw polishing my bar just last night?”

“Okay, okay,” Kiera said, laughing at last. “I’m flattered by all the attention, but I wouldn’t mind a pint of ale right about now. Is the service in here falling apart without me on the job?”

“Happy to oblige,” Luke said at once. “And what about some dinner? You and Moira must be starved after your long day. The special tonight is shepherd’s pie.”

One of my favorites, Kiera thought to herself. She couldn’t help wondering if Bryan had the knack for it, since it hadn’t been on the menu since her arrival.

“You stay right here,” she told Luke. “I’ll get plates for myself and Moira.”

Before he could stop her, she walked around the bar and entered the kitchen. “Two shepherd pie dinners,” she called out.

Bryan’s head swiveled so quickly in her direction, she was surprised it didn’t make him dizzy. Then his mouth gaped in a most startling and complimentary way.

“Kiera?” he said, his voice oddly choked.

“Yes. Who else would be barging into the kitchen like this?”

His gaze narrowed. “You look different.”

“After the money Moira spent today, I would hope so,” she said tartly, then gave him a hesitant look. “Is it a good difference?”

His lips curved slightly at the apparent hint of insecurity in her voice. “You look softer, more approachable,” he said, though he sounded as if that was more troublesome than it should have been.

“Ten years younger, that’s what the stylist claimed,” she said. “Of course, she wanted to be sure of a tip.”

“I don’t know about that,” Bryan said. “You looked fine before.” He seemed to be fumbling for words. “But don’t all women want to look younger?”

Kiera studied him curiously. There was something oddly charming about his obvious nervousness. Usually he was brusque to the point of rudeness. If there was something about her look tonight, there was also something very different in Bryan’s reaction to her. She wished she could put her finger on it, but perhaps it was better that she couldn’t put a name to it. That might shift the nervousness straight to her.

* * *

“What took you so long?” Moira asked when Kiera finally returned to take her seat at the bar.

“Bryan wasn’t giving you a rough time, was he?” Luke asked worriedly. “Or you him?”

“Not at all,” Kiera said, placing two plates of shepherd’s pie on the bar. It looked just fine, and the aroma was as tempting as any she’d eaten before. “I’m anxious to give this a try. Moira, have a taste and see if it’s like what we get back home.”

“I’ve had it before,” Moira said. “It’s as delicious as any I’ve ever had, except perhaps that you’ve made yourself. The only dish you make that’s any better is your Irish stew. I have to warn you, though, Bryan’s Irish stew has become a favorite here. He takes great pride in it, as does Nell, who taught him how to make it.”

Leaving the Irish stew debate for another time, Kiera took a bite of the shepherd’s pie and nodded, pleasantly surprised that it seemed authentic. Not bad for a man who’d once been making sandwiches in a deli.

“Does it pass muster?” Luke asked.

“It does,” Kiera said. “It’s quite good, in fact.”

“And will you tell Bryan that yourself? I know it would please him.”

“Bryan’s ego needs no boost from me,” Kiera said, not sure why the thought of praising his cooking felt too much like eating crow.

Luke kept his gaze on her steady. “For the sake of harmony,” he suggested.

“Fine, then,” she said grudgingly. “I’ll tell him.” She rose to do just that before she lost the will, but Luke waved her back to her seat.

“After you’ve finished. A clean plate will speak volumes, too,” he told her. “Bryan might not show it, but he could use a bit of reassurance from you from time to time. Nell sings his praises, but that’s become commonplace. You’re a new test for him and one he’s not entirely sure he’s passing. He feels as if you’re judging him each time you walk into the kitchen.”

Kiera was confused. “Isn’t that what I’m here for? To find areas that need improvement?”

“Absolutely,” Luke said quickly. “And I’m sure Bryan would welcome a suggestion here and there. Have you shared your thoughts with him?”

Kiera thought of how she’d been handling things and realized she’d felt constrained by her lack of real standing. She’d observed and judged, but mostly kept her opinions to herself, storing them up for the time when she’d feel free to speak her mind. She could see now how that silence might make Bryan feel uneasy. He’d probably prefer a tart comment or two to the silence.

“I’ll try to do better at making him feel at ease,” she said, thinking of the hint of nervousness she’d noticed for the first time earlier. Perhaps she had inadvertently thrown him off his game. That had never been her intention, but they did seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. There was no denying that.

“I’d appreciate that,” Luke said, clearly satisfied by her response.

“I’ve been cautious about speaking up till now, but if I’m to be honest and more candid with him, then I can’t hold back my opinion when I think he’s gotten it wrong,” Kiera warned.

A smile tugged at her son-in-law’s lips. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to,” he said. “That would be as wasted an effort as asking the wind not to blow.”

Kiera laughed. It would, indeed.


Chapter 4 (#u759c93d3-b3bd-5062-b4f9-8f1055888241)

Rather than being stuck in his closet of an office, Luke had brought the stacks of dreaded pub paperwork that occupied way too much of his time these days to a table by the window that looked out onto the bay. That view, at least, made the prospect of spending the next couple of hours dealing with numbers and invoices slightly less daunting.

He’d barely made a dent in the work when the door at O’Brien’s opened and Moira came in with Kate in her stroller.

“Da!” Kate exclaimed ecstatically when she spotted him. She immediately held out her arms.

All thoughts of invoices and supply orders vanished as Luke reached for his daughter. His gaze, though, kept straying to his wife.

“What brings you by? Did you have a meeting with Megan? And why is this little angel with you, rather than your mother?”

“After we all had breakfast at Sally’s, I dropped my mother off at Connor’s office. There were some forms they needed to go over,” she said.

Her anxious tone provided a clue for Luke, but her pacing was a dead giveaway that something about that meeting was upsetting his wife.

“And that has you worried?” Luke asked, frowning. “Why? Did Connor suggest there might be a problem? Is something holding up the visa application?”

“No, to the contrary, he thinks this will be the last bit of paperwork needed to satisfy immigration.”

“That’s great news,” Luke said, lifting Kate high into the air until she giggled.

“You might want to watch that,” Moira warned. “She just ate an entire pancake at Sally’s, then went after Mum’s eggs. Our little one has the appetite of a horse now that she’s trying regular food, but she hasn’t learned when to stop.”

“Yes, my worrywart,” Luke said, shifting Kate till her feet touched the ground and she could cling to his knee to stay upright. “You know, I think she’s very close to walking.”

Moira regarded him incredulously. “She’s not going to be a year old for another month. She’s still falling on her bum whenever she tries.”

“But that’s the point, isn’t it?” Luke said. “She’s trying. She’s not satisfied with crawling.”

“I suppose,” Moira responded distractedly, still pacing.

“Okay, that’s it,” Luke said. “Something is on your mind. Tell me. You’ve learned by now that I’m no mind reader. Is your work not going well?”

Moira shrugged. “Megan’s pleased with it, or says she is. She’d like me to do more and faster, but I’m working at a pace that gives me time at home. I’ve told her I don’t intend to sacrifice that.”

“And is she pressuring you to do otherwise?”

“She doesn’t say it, at least not anymore, but I know she’s disappointed. She thought I’d have more free time with my mother here.”

“Don’t you?” Luke asked, puzzled by her mood and the entire conversation. Communication skills varied widely between the average man and woman, he’d discovered. For him and Moira, it was as if they spoke entirely different languages and, quite possibly in her case, from some universe not yet discovered.

“Of course I have more time than I did. I’m out with my camera almost every day now, while Mum watches Kate,” she said impatiently, as if he should already know the obvious answer. “And when my mum is here, Kate’s at day care. I’ve more than enough time. This isn’t about work, Luke.”

“But it is something,” he said, seizing on the admission, albeit an incredibly skimpy one. “If it’s not your work or the meeting with Connor...”

“Where I was very pointedly told I wasn’t needed,” she grumbled.

Uh-oh, Luke thought. “And that offended you?”

“Well, of course it did. It’s never pleasant being dismissed, but if you’re thinking that’s the issue, you’d be wrong.”

Luke bit back a sigh he knew would only escalate the frustrating conversation. “Moira, love, just tell me in simple English that my dense male mind can comprehend.”

She scowled at his attempt at humor, then sighed herself. “To be honest, I miss being here, working by your side.”

He grinned, hoping to lighten her dark mood. “Is it me you miss or the paperwork?” He shoved a stack in her direction. “I’d be more than happy to turn these over to you and go for a long walk with our Kate.”

She shook her head, though she did crack a smile. “Nice try, but paperwork was always your domain. I miss the people,” she said candidly. “I didn’t expect to, since there were days I thought they’d drive me mad changing their orders or complaining that something wasn’t just right.”

“If this is about the company, then, I don’t understand. You’re in here at some point every day. You still see everyone.”

“It’s not the same.” She sighed again, then lifted her troubled gaze to his. “You’re going to think I’ve lost it, but I think I’m a little jealous of my mum taking my place.”

He was beginning to get what she was saying, but he was far from understanding any of it. “But this was your idea, Moira. Having your mom here, not just for a visit, but working here.”

“I know. That’s what makes my feelings so ridiculous. Having her here was what I wanted. She and I are getting along better than we ever did back home. I think she’s feeling more at home here every day. You should see her now at Sally’s in the morning. In just a few short days, she’s become one of the O’Brien women. They all turn to her for an opinion and laugh at her stories from Ireland. She’s got them all wanting another family vacation over there, I think, so be prepared for that.”

Literal minefields had nothing on the dangers of trying to pick his way carefully through a conversation with his wife. “And you’re feeling left out? Replaced? What?”

“It’s the same as in here, as if I don’t know how I fit in anymore.” She covered her face, clearly embarrassed. “Next thing you know, I’ll be complaining she’s taken my place in our home, too.”

Luke bit back a desire to laugh. “I don’t think she’ll ever replace you with me, Moira,” he said, fighting to keep his tone serious.

Another hint of a smile touched her lips then vanished. “I’m not thinking that, you idiot. But she is making herself indispensable there, too. I’m surprised at how quickly that’s come about.”

Luke didn’t credit himself with a lot of insightfulness, particularly where his wife was concerned, but he thought maybe he knew what was going on. “Moira, did you by any chance see yourself as your mum’s savior when you suggested bringing her here?” He could tell by the flush in her cheeks that he was on the right track. “And has it turned out that, perhaps, she’s quite capable of saving herself? That she saw she was heading down an old path and was ready to step in a new direction?”

She regarded him with a narrowed gaze. “When did you get to be so smart and insightful?”

He couldn’t quite tell if she was impressed by that or if it was another of the day’s annoyances for her. “You’ve given me plenty of practice at sorting through the hints you toss about,” he told her. “I’m learning to put the puzzle pieces together.”

“Congratulations,” she said wryly. “So how do I fix my feelings, when even I can see that I should be happy that she’s adjusting and that things are going so well?”

“Maybe you should try congratulating yourself for assessing what she needed and simply getting her here. It wasn’t up to you to fix her sadness, but you insisted she come to a place where she could find her own path to healing.”

“I didn’t expect it to happen quite so fast,” she admitted. “It’s as if she’s forgotten all about Peter.”

There was a despondent, accusatory note in her voice that spoke volumes. “Do you feel as if she’s betraying him just because she’s choosing to live her life?” he asked.

She frowned at the suggestion. “No, of course not. It’s what I hoped for, isn’t it?”

“So you said at the time you invited her here, but perhaps you’re finding the reality a little more jarring.”

She fell silent. Luke waited her out. Moira was never quiet for long.

“Okay, yes,” she said eventually. “I saw the blush on her cheeks when she came out of the kitchen the other night after talking to Bryan. There’s something between those two. I think it’s disrespectful to Peter’s memory.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is really about,” Luke said, realizing they’d finally hit on the real source of her misery. She’d adored Peter and hoped her mother would have a future with him. Now she feared that Kiera wasn’t mourning him as he deserved. Even if her emotions were contradictory and all over the place, he had to accept they existed and try to console her.

“Moira, for starters, I don’t think you need to worry that your mother has forgotten Peter or her feelings for him,” Luke said quietly. “I’ve found her in tears more than once when I’ve come home late at night, and each time she’s said how much she misses him.”

Moira looked startled. “You’ve found my mother in tears and never told me?”

“I caught her in private moments. They weren’t mine to reveal,” he said. “As for Bryan, that’s another thing about which you’re worrying for no reason.”

“I know what I saw,” she said stubbornly.

Luke laughed. “And I’ve seen it, too, on Bryan’s side, but neither of them is prepared to do a single thing about it. Bryan, at least, is in denial that he has any feelings for your mother at all. He views her as a necessary nuisance, or so he claims. And your mother sees only that they’re battling wits over control of the kitchen, since he’s rejected every suggestion she’s dared to make since I encouraged her to speak up. I’m seriously tempted to make her his sous chef, just to watch the fireworks.”

“Don’t you dare!” Moira said, then paused and chuckled at last. “Though it might be fun to watch. Bryan’s always seemed a bit closed off and quiet. I like him a lot, but the truth is we know very little about him or his personal life outside of the pub. Seeing the two of them rile each other could be entertaining.”

“Well, it’s something to consider, once your mother’s status is clarified and we can officially put her on the payroll,” Luke said. “I think she’s struggling with how to handle things with her status unresolved. I hope Connor’s right that the paperwork will go through soon. She needs that to feel secure about speaking out.”

Suddenly Kate released her grip on his knee and hit the floor with a solid thud. Her cries filled the pub. Moira picked her up and cuddled her close.

“I suppose she tired of not getting any attention from either of us,” she said.

“Following in your footsteps, perhaps,” Luke teased. “Weren’t you staging your own cry for attention when you came in the door just now?”

“I suppose you’ll hold that over my head,” she grumbled.

Instead, Luke pulled his wife and daughter onto his lap. He tucked a finger under Moira’s chin and turned her face toward him, then kissed her soundly. “If you ever need reassurance about how important you are in my life, all you need to do is say so,” he told her solemnly. “You and Kate are my world.”

“More important than O’Brien’s?” she asked, a smile on her lips.

“More important than anything.” And that was something he needed no coaching to know was exactly the right thing to say.

* * *

Kiera had stood outside the door of the pub watching Moira, Luke and Kate for a moment and concluded this time together, just the three of them, was something they needed. She was in the middle of their lives a little more than she ought to be these days.

Since she wasn’t due at work for another hour and wasn’t needed to help with Kate, she headed for her father’s. It was a pleasant morning for a walk along the bay with the sunlight filtered through sprawling oak trees and the sweet scent of lilacs strong in the air.

She found Dillon and Nell in the kitchen, a pot of freshly brewed Irish breakfast tea on the table and the familiar scent of currant scones coming from the oven.

“Are you sure I’m not interrupting?” she asked, sensing she’d stumbled across another cozy, intimate scene that emphasized the emptiness in her life. Funny how she’d gone for years without feeling so adrift and after just a few months of being close to Peter, she felt it with sudden and depressing clarity.

“You’re family. How could you possibly be interrupting?” Nell said, pouring her a cup of tea without asking and bringing a warm scone to the table.

The aromas brought back a wave of memories from Ireland that put tears in her eyes.

“Are you missing home?” Dillon asked.

“Yes and no,” she said. She gestured at the tea and scone. “These do stir so many memories, but in general I’ve been quite happy here. In fact, I’ve been surprised by how well I’m adapting.” She gave her father a wry look. “Just as you said I would.”

He laughed. “I’m surprised you didn’t choke on those words.”

“I’m capable of admitting when I’ve been wrong about something,” she said. “In this case, it’s not so much that I was wrong, as that you had better foresight than I did.”

“And a lovely spin that is,” Dillon said, but he was laughing as he said it.

Kiera allowed herself a smile, then debated revealing something that had been on her mind for a few days now.

“There are a few changes I’ve been contemplating,” Kiera told them eventually. “I think I should start looking for my own place. I met with Connor earlier this morning, and he says we should have the last of the details settled for my work visa in another week. If I’m to stay for a few months, if not a little longer, I can’t continue to impose on Luke and Moira. They’re practically newlyweds. They don’t need me underfoot.” She gave them both a stern look. “And don’t think I haven’t realized that I was never needed to care for Kate.”

“A child always needs a grandmother, if only to spoil them, and to pass along a little wisdom,” Nell corrected.

“And I can do as much if I have my own place,” Kiera said. “I’ll begin looking as soon as my work status is finalized.”

“You mentioned other changes,” Nell said. “What are those?”

“Not a change so much, as a desire to feel more a part of Chesapeake Shores. I’ve spent a little time with your family recently, and they all lead incredibly active, busy lives. I think I’ve spent my life so focused on work that I’ve never had the opportunity to take on other commitments. I’d like to give that a try. If I’m to have that full, well-rounded life everyone seems so intent on my having, I think that’s the next step.”

Dillon regarded her with delight. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re interested in taking on something new. You’ll find that giving back in some way can be incredibly fulfilling.”

“I agree,” Nell said, her expression turning thoughtful. “And I might have some ideas along that line.”

“Of course she does,” Dillon said. “Watch out, Kiera. Nell has her fingers in a lot of community pies, so to speak. Next thing you know, you’ll find you don’t have a minute to yourself anymore.”

“That would be just fine by me,” Kiera said. “I need more to do and less time to think.”

“Then I will see to it,” Nell said, looking delighted by the prospect.

“Thank you both for listening,” Kiera said. “And for the tea and scone. It felt like a moment out of time. It was...” She searched for the right word. “Comforting, that’s it. It felt like home. I think I needed that this morning. Now, though, I need to get to the pub, or Luke and Moira will wonder what on earth has happened to me. Moira will be driving around, thinking I’ve gotten lost. She watches over me and frets as if I haven’t an ounce of sense.”

“She just wants to make sure you’re happy here,” Dillon said. “It’s what we all want. Now, would you like a ride back to the pub?”

“Thanks, but I’m fine with the walk. It’s a lovely spring morning. Everyone tells me it will soon be too hot here to enjoy a stroll by the water, though I can’t imagine such a thing.”

She pressed a kiss to her father’s cheek and then, impulsively, to Nell’s. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You can count on that,” Nell said.

“And there’s your only warning to run while you still can or leave yourself to my wife’s mercy,” Dillon said.

“Stop with your nonsense, Dillon O’Malley,” Nell scolded. “I’ve only Kiera’s best interests at heart. She’ll tell me the minute she feels overwhelmed—won’t you, Kiera?”

“I’ve always been known to speak my mind. Isn’t that so, Dad?” she said wryly.

“True enough.”

Kiera left their cottage feeling warmed by more than the familiar tea and scone. How long had it been since she’d truly felt part of a family? Longer than she could recall. It felt surprisingly good.

* * *

“You took a long time to get here,” Moira told Kiera when she walked through the door at the pub.

“I decided to pay a visit to your grandfather and Nell, so you and Luke could have a bit of time together.”

Moira gave her an odd look that Kiera couldn’t quite interpret, so she didn’t bother trying. “I need to touch base with Luke and see what he wants me to do today.”

“Not before you tell me how it went with Connor after the two of you pointedly told me I wasn’t needed.”

Kiera heard the hurt in her voice. “It was hardly that you weren’t needed. Kate was too restless to keep still while we went over so many boring details.”

Moira looked surprisingly startled. “That’s all it was?”

“What else would it be? Did you think we were keeping secrets from you?” Kiera asked. “You heard the most important part, that he’s convinced my status will be resolved within a week or two at the most. As a temporary consultant, I can hardly be taking a job from an American, since being from Ireland is in the job description.”

“And you’ll be able to stay for how long? Did you discuss permanent residency?”

Kiera frowned. “That was never under consideration, Moira. We’re looking at a six-month work visa, perhaps a year at the outside. I don’t think we can stretch it further than that.”

“You have family here,” Moira argued. “You’ll have work. You could apply to become a legal resident. That’s what should have been discussed.”

“A discussion for another time,” Kiera countered. “I’m not prepared to make such a decision yet.”

Her daughter looked thoroughly dismayed by her response.

“Aren’t you happy here?” Moira asked. “I thought you were. I thought you’d been adapting really well, in fact.”

“Darling, I am happy. This change has definitely been good for me, exactly as you’d hoped. Do we have to take another leap already?”

Now Moira looked oddly guilty. “I just want you to know that we like having you here with us. I know Granddad wants you to stay on.”

“Your grandfather knows where I stand on this. We all need to focus on the here and now and not be looking too far down the road just yet.” She studied her daughter’s expression. “Are you thinking for some reason that I’ve been feeling unwanted?”

“Maybe I was afraid that I’d made you feel uncomfortable somehow,” Moira admitted. “Sometimes I send out mixed signals. Ask Luke. He’s been victimized by my mood swings.”

Kiera chuckled. “And haven’t I known you since the day you were born? Your mood swings come as no surprise to me.” She put her hand to Moira’s flushed cheek. “You and Luke have been wonderful to me. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. It’s made things so much easier. I still miss Peter dreadfully, but I realize that life will go on, if I remain open to it. And it’s easier here, where I’m not constantly reminded of the loss.”

“It will get even easier, you know,” Moira said earnestly. “And your life can be better than ever. Luke came into my life just when I was thinking I had nothing of value to offer anyone. And then my photography was discovered by Peter, and then Megan. And now I have baby Kate, too. A few years ago, I could never have imagined such things. I want that for you, too.”

“A baby at my age? That might be a bit over the top when it comes to wishful thinking,” Kiera teased. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

Moira looked startled for an instant, then chuckled. “Do you have any idea how it makes me feel to see you laughing and making jokes?”

“Which only shows how seldom I allowed myself to enjoy life for far too long. That’s changing, Moira, and you’re to be thanked for some of that.”

“And now you’re making me cry,” Moira said, brushing at the tears tracking down her cheeks. “I’m going into Luke’s office to steal my daughter back and take her home before I scare off the customers with my tears.”

Kiera followed Moira to the back, then waited outside the door of the cramped office until she’d gathered up Kate and kissed her husband goodbye.

“See you later, my little ones,” she said as they passed by.

Moira paused, her expression startled. “You always used to say that on your way out the door when my brothers and I were young.”

“I did,” Kiera said. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

“Your leaving was the saddest, most memorable part of my day,” Moira admitted. “I was never awake to hear you come in at night. I never had that moment of joy, though the boys did. Sometimes I remember lying in my bed, hearing you through the door and feeling so left out.”

Tears welled in Kiera’s eyes. “And you never once crawled out of bed to join us.”

Moira shrugged. “I suppose I thought it would make you mad to discover I was still awake.” She gave Kiera a wry look. “Or perhaps I was just being stubborn. I was quite good at that.”

“Indeed you were. I hope you’ve grown up to learn how important it is to make clear what you need. It was a lesson I learned far too late myself.”

“I’m still working on it,” Moira said. “Luke reminds me time and again that he’s not a mind reader. It forces me to speak up, even when I think he should figure things out on his own.”

“It’s a much healthier way to live,” Kiera said. “Rather than letting resentments build.”

Moira hesitated, then said, “One of these days we should talk about my brothers. You rarely mention them. There must be some reason for that.”

Kiera stiffened. “They’ve gone their own way,” she said tightly. “But we can discuss that another time. It’s past time for me to be earning my keep around here today.”

Moira’s gaze narrowed. “That cryptic answer is not enough to satisfy me, you know. But I will wait since our Kate needs to get home for some lunch.”

Kiera stared after them as they left, then sighed. Her sons were a topic always guaranteed to fill her with anxiety. She’d resigned herself to the reality that they were past her influence. Those memories Moira had of the three of them laughing late at night were from a very distant past, one she doubted they would ever recapture.


Chapter 5 (#u759c93d3-b3bd-5062-b4f9-8f1055888241)

“Would you mind handling the bar for me during lunch?” Luke asked Kiera when she came into his office right after Moira left with Kate. “I’ve barely made a dent in the paperwork that was to be done this morning.”

Kiera gave him a knowing look. “Seems to me you had a bit of a distraction.”

“The best kind,” Luke agreed. “But it has put me behind, so would you mind helping me out?”

“It’s what I’m here for,” she told him. “I’m capable of drawing a few pints of ale and making friendly conversation.”

“Just be careful you don’t do it so well that everyone asks for you and I’m rendered irrelevant.”

“As if I could do that,” she scoffed. “You’ve a knack for listening when it’s called for or saying something to earn a laugh, when that’s needed. Owning a pub like this is the perfect fit for you, Luke. You couldn’t do better if you’d been born and bred in Ireland.”

He gave her a startled look. “You couldn’t have found a compliment that could please me more, Kiera. I wasn’t at all sure I had a niche in life when we first met in Ireland,” he admitted.

His candor revealed a rare insecurity, especially for an O’Brien. Kiera was touched that he felt comfortable sharing his feelings with her. “How can that be? I thought everyone in your family was born with confidence to spare.”

Luke laughed. “It certainly seems that way, but I was the youngest and had none of the passion for a career that everyone else seemed to have. I discovered what I was meant to do while I was in Dublin. The more pubs that Moira and I visited around the countryside, the surer I felt that this could be my calling. Even then, I had no idea how my family would react. They tend to be overachievers. I feared having my own pub here in Chesapeake Shores wouldn’t measure up as much of an accomplishment.”

“Did they find fault with your choice?” she asked curiously. She knew Mick and Luke’s own brother had international reputations as architects and urban planners. His uncle Thomas O’Brien ran a foundation dedicated to saving the Chesapeake Bay from environmental toxins. His aunt Megan, of course, had major connections in the art world, which she’d used to Moira’s benefit. His cousin Bree was known for her plays that had been produced locally, by a regional theater in Chicago and even on Broadway. There wasn’t a one of them who couldn’t claim success in their field. Had they judged Luke’s ambition to be less than theirs?

“My father questioned it at first. He thought it was too big a risk, but Uncle Mick got it right away, as did my grandmother. To my father’s dismay, they were quite vocal with their support.”

“I should think so,” Kiera said. “Neighborhood pubs are a fine Irish tradition. Aren’t there bars in the States that are similar?”

“I wanted this place to be more than just another bar. I wanted it to be a community gathering spot,” Luke said.

He gestured at the arrangement of tables, subtly done to make conversation easier between tables. The antique bar he’d imported from Ireland had space for a dozen people, and a mirror behind it that allowed customers to speak to others seated several stools away and still see their reactions mirrored on the wall. And while the colors he’d chosen reflected the waterfront setting more than an Irish pub might, they were warm, inviting shades of the sea. There was even a bit of a dance floor carved out in front of the area where Irish bands played on weekends.

“Well, if your regulars are to be believed, you’ve achieved that,” Kiera told him. “I myself can see that you’ve created a place that’s comfortable, friendly and the first place to go for the local gossip.” She hesitated deliberately, then taunted, “That is if you haven’t already picked it up at Sally’s in the morning.”

Luke laughed. “I like to think we come by a few tidbits of news first right here, if only because Uncle Mick seems to know everything and finds my bar the perfect place to be sharing it. O’Brien’s may be my pub, but Uncle Mick reigns over it.”

“Now, that has the ring of truth, to be sure.” With the time for the pub’s midday opening almost upon them, Kiera reminded them both that they needed to get back to work. “You’d best get busy on that paperwork now. Leave the bar to me.”

“I’m right here if you need me,” Luke told her. “Or ask Bryan. He’s filled in a time or two when we’ve been short-staffed.”

“I’ll do my best to handle it without bothering either one of you,” Kiera said, and headed off to check on supplies. She stopped short when she found Bryan seated at the end of the bar with a cup of coffee.

“And shouldn’t you be in the kitchen?” she inquired lightly, trying to calm the unexpected flutter of nerves she got at the sight of him. What was it about him that affected her so? He was annoying, to be sure, but it was more than that. Maybe that impossible nature of his reminded her just the tiniest bit of Sean Malone, which was far from a recommendation.

As if to prove her point about his difficult nature, he immediately bristled at the hint of accusation in her voice. “Kiera, I’ve been running the kitchen quite efficiently for some time now. I don’t need you to tell me how to do it. I believe I’ve mentioned that before.”

She winced. “More than once,” she said stiffly. And here they went again, off on the wrong foot, just when she’d been trying to convince both Luke and herself that they could manage to get along. “I wasn’t suggesting you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Really? Haven’t you made it your role to be Luke’s eyes and ears, when he’s not around?” His gaze narrowed as he watched her busy herself behind the bar. “And now what? Are you taking over bartending, too? Were you not satisfied with meddling in how I run the kitchen? For the past week, you’ve been tossing out suggestions every time you pass through the kitchen door.”

She stopped in her count of glasses and stared at him in shock. “Are you suggesting that I’m pushing my way into things that are none of my concern? I don’t know what you expect, Bryan. Luke told me it bothered you if I kept silent. Now I’m speaking up too often. You’ll have to excuse me if I’m confused by how to make this work with you.”

Something that might have been guilt flitted across his face, but she didn’t know him well enough to be sure.

“I’m only doing what my son-in-law has asked of me,” she reminded him. “If that bothers you, take it up with him.”

“Oh, believe me, I have.”

Kiera was taken aback by the flat answer. “You’ve tried to undermine my position here? Why would you do such a thing? Is it your goal to get me fired from my job before I’ve even begun?”

This time the flush of guilt that spread across his face was undeniable. “No, of course not. Your position is not in question. Luke and Moira want you here. That’s all I need to know.”

“Then what?”

“I’ve just tried to clarify what authority you have over what I do.”

“So it’s a matter of authority, is it? Is it me personally you object to listening to or would it be any woman?” She paused to let her words sink in, then answered her own question. “Wait now. It can’t possibly be that since you’ve no objection to taking Nell’s words to heart or Moira’s. That leaves only one answer. It must be me. Do I grate on your nerves because I hit a little too closely to the truth from time to time and underline some insecurity of yours about your cooking?”

Bryan looked genuinely distraught by her conclusion, but she was in no mood to be consoled by that. If his patience had worn thin, hers was at an end.

“Kiera, no. Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s been a bad morning, and it has nothing at all to do with you. I’d been hoping for something, and it didn’t work out. There’s no reason for me to be taking my foul mood out on you. You just happened to appear as I finished taking the call.”

Something in his voice alerted her that whatever that call had been about, it truly had thrown him off his game. His words were as close to a sincere apology as she’d ever heard from him. And there was no mistaking the hint of despair in his eyes, if she paused long enough to see that and not focus on the temper in his tone.

She stopped what she was doing, took his coffee cup and refilled it, then looked him in the eye. “Do you want to talk about whatever’s really bothering you? I’m not Luke, but I’m a good listener and I don’t spread tales.”

A smile flitted across his face at that. “Spoken like a true Irish bartender,” he said.

“Spoken sincerely,” she countered. “We certainly can’t claim to have reached the status of friends. In fact, we’re coworkers and barely that, but I’d like to help if I can.”

He seemed taken aback by the offer. “I appreciate that, but there’s nothing you can do. It’s something I’m unlikely to resolve. One of these days I have to accept that.”

The resignation in his voice reminded her of times in her own past when she’d wanted to give up. Sometimes it had been her own inner strength or a bit of support offered when needed that had gotten her through. She wanted to offer that to him.

“If it’s important enough, you can’t stop trying, no matter how many dead ends you encounter,” she told him. She thought of how her father had reached out again and again, despite her determined efforts to push him away. No matter how far apart she told herself they were, she’d known if she truly needed him, he would be there. He’d proved it by all he’d done with Moira to get her to Chesapeake Shores when she’d desperately needed to make a change.

She held Bryan’s gaze and added earnestly, “It’s the trying that will come to matter someday.”

He sighed. “I want to believe that. I truly do.” He picked up his coffee and headed toward the kitchen. “Thanks for this,” he said, gesturing with the cup. “And for the advice.”

Kiera watched his retreat and felt something inside her shift. Bryan Laramie was a far more complicated man than she’d ever imagined. And despite every warning bell going off in her head, she couldn’t help being just a tiny bit intrigued.

* * *

There was always a natural lull between lunch and dinner at the pub. The waitstaff often changed during that time, with some of their part-time college students heading off to class and others showing up for the evening shift.

Normally Kiera wanted nothing more during those hours than to put her feet up for a bit, have a strong cup of tea and say not a single word to another soul. Today, though, with her conversation with Bryan still on her mind, she decided to take a chance and see if she could get to the bottom of his mood. Even as she told herself that pressing him was a bad idea, she stepped into the kitchen, only to find it as spotless as if there had never been a lunch rush, and deserted. Since the back door was sitting open, she peered outside and down the alley behind the building. No sign of him there, either. Going off and leaving the kitchen unsecured wasn’t like him, which only worried her more.

Wherever he’d gone and whatever his reason for it, he shouldn’t have been so careless, she thought with annoyance. She closed the door and turned the lock, then went back into the dining room and settled at a table just inside the door with her tea and a book that wasn’t holding her interest. Her gaze kept straying to the street, but wherever Bryan had gone, he didn’t appear to be in any hurry to get back.

Not that she intended to question him or even to lecture him on his carelessness. One testy encounter was enough for today. She was just hoping to see what he had to say for himself when he returned to find he couldn’t slip in the same way he’d walked out.

She’d been staring down the street for a half hour or more when Luke joined her.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Fine. The lunch hour went smoothly. Will you be wanting me behind the bar again tonight?”

“No, I can take over. Paul called in, so I’ll need you to help with serving.”

Her gaze narrowed. “It’s the third time this week he’s called in.”

“Finals are coming up soon. I think he’s under a lot of pressure to get his grades up. His parents have high expectations for him. He’s the first in the family to go to college. He doesn’t want to let them down.”

The excuse sounded like one her own sons might use to explain away irresponsibility. “But he has a responsibility to you,” Kiera objected. “That matters, too.”

“I’ve told him his grades are the most important thing for the moment. And I have you here to take up any slack.”

She nodded, accepting his decision for the generosity it showed. It wasn’t up to her to tell him that his employee might be getting off too easily. If Paul was taking advantage of Luke’s good nature, he’d learn it soon enough. “Of course,” she said.

Luke studied her intently. “Is something else on your mind?”

“Not a thing,” she said, though she couldn’t seem to stop her gaze from straying once more to the empty street outside.

Luke’s expression turned knowing. “If you’re wondering where Bryan is, I’ve sent him on an errand, as I do every day or two around this time.”

“Bryan’s whereabouts are no concern of mine,” she said a little too quickly.

“Perhaps not, but that wouldn’t stop you from wondering, I suspect. There are fishermen coming in now. He’s gone to check on the catch and buy fresh fish for tonight’s menu if he likes what he finds.”

“Ah,” she said, a weight that wasn’t hers to be bearing lifting.

Just then there was a pounding on the back door that startled them both, followed by a very vocal stream of what sounded like colorful obscenities. Luke chuckled. “You locked the kitchen door, didn’t you?”

“I thought it needed to be secured with no one back there,” she said defensively. “I’ll let him in.”

“Stay right there. I think it’s best if I do it.” He grinned at her. “You might want to stay out of his path for a bit.”

“With pleasure,” she said. There had already been far too many unsettling encounters. Who knew where another one might lead? Certainly not to the peace and harmony Luke wanted among his staff.

* * *

Bryan’s day had gone from bad to worse, starting with a call from his private investigator informing him of yet another dead end. He should be used to those by now. If they’d been commonplace nineteen years ago, now there were even fewer leads to investigate, so fewer disappointments to be gotten through. Still, each one cut another slice out of his soul.

Then there had been the odd encounter with Kiera right before the lunch hour. Her offer of a sympathetic ear had thrown him, especially after he’d jumped all over her with his foul temper. He hadn’t leaned on anyone in so long, he had no idea how to deal with it.

And, then, just when his equilibrium was balancing out after the rough morning, Kiera—and there was no question that she was responsible, since everyone else knew the routine—had locked him out of the pub’s kitchen. He’d been left standing in the alley with heavy buckets of freshly filleted fish on ice. His sour mood had returned and, once more, she was smack at the center of it.

All of that had thrown him completely off his game. Distracted, he’d added far too much salt to the Irish stew and left an entire batch of fish and chips in the hot oil until smoke filled the kitchen. Fortunately, before it could set off the alarms he’d opened the back door and allowed the cool spring breeze to replace the scent of food that was fried beyond hope.

“Were you trying to burn the whole place to the ground?” Kiera inquired as she stood in the doorway of the kitchen, hands on her lush, well-rounded hips, regarding him with that superior attitude that had been getting on Bryan’s nerves since the day Luke had informed him that she was there as their latest “consultant,” direct from Ireland. Pain in the posterior was more like it, he thought, trying to intimidate her with a glare that always failed to have the desired effect. All of his carefully laid out plans to make peace with her were forgotten in the moment.

“Get out of my kitchen,” he ordered brusquely, hoping to stake his claim on the territory once and for all. Of course, she didn’t budge. If anything, his ire kicked up the heat in her temper.

“So it’s your kitchen, is it?” she asked. Gone in a flash was the more accommodating tone of this morning. “I was under the impression that it, like the rest of the pub, belonged to my son-in-law.”

“Technically, perhaps, but it’s my domain in here. As I believe I’ve mentioned before, I don’t need you hovering over me every minute. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yes,” she said, her tone sarcastic. “I can see that from the smoke in the air.”

“Have you never made a mistake, Kiera?”

“A lifetime of them,” she replied tartly. “But never one that might chase off the patrons of the very place that provides my livelihood.”

“Not what I’ve heard,” Bryan muttered, turning away from the woman who was rapidly becoming the bane of his existence. For a while now Kiera had made him seriously question why he’d ever left that deli in Baltimore where he’d been a master of matzo ball soup and pastrami on rye. Even with waitresses yelling their demands and the lunchtime flurry of impatient customers in a rush, it had been a lot less nerve-racking than O’Brien’s since Kiera had arrived.

“Should I be telling my customers that fish and chips are off the menu tonight?” she inquired sweetly.

“No, you should not,” Bryan retorted tightly. “You should tell them they’re being cooked to perfection by the chef. Now go away and let me do just that.”

“If you can,” she said tartly, then added far more sweetly, “Would you perhaps like me to take over with your Irish stew, since I’ve been told it tastes a bit saltier than usual tonight? It’s been one of my family specialties for years now.”

“Go away, Kiera.”

Bryan gritted his teeth as she left, changed the oil in the deep fryer and started over. He winced when he realized that Luke had replaced Kiera in the doorway.

“Bad night?” Luke inquired, a barely contained smile on his lips.

“A bad few weeks,” Bryan replied, not feeling any need to censor himself. Luke knew as well as he did that Kiera had created chaos since her arrival. She’d taken her role as consultant a little too seriously, questioning everything that went on in O’Brien’s. He’d heard her cross-examining the waitstaff and seen for himself the changes she’d made with the location of table setups. In his opinion, the old arrangements of supplies had worked just fine. When he’d caught her in his pantry about to rearrange things, he’d tossed her out. Luke might be willing to overlook her criticism for the sake of family harmony, but Bryan didn’t have to do the same.

“Bryan, we’ve talked about this. She’s trying to find her place here,” Luke reminded him. “She’s a proud woman who wants to earn what little she’s being paid. It’s not easy being in a new country with few people she knows. And she didn’t leave Ireland under the best circumstances. She’d just lost the man she loved.”

Bryan heaved a sigh. “Moira has repeated that more times than I can count, and while I appreciate the position both of you are in, I’m just not sure how much more I can take.” He leveled a look at his boss. “And before you ask, I have no idea why the woman bugs me. I should let her comments roll off my back. I always intend to do just that. Just this morning I would have sworn we’d reached a truce of some kind, but then she says or does something and before I know it, the battle lines are drawn once more.”

“I know it can’t be that you simply don’t like being told what to do,” Luke said. “You took my grandmother’s cooking lessons well enough when she was teaching you all of her old Irish recipes. How many times did she ask you to make the same thing over and over before she was satisfied? When she did the same to me, I came close to saying words that no grandmother should ever hear a grandson utter, but I never once heard you complain or say a sharp word. Give that same patience a try for Kiera’s sake.”

“Nell may have been a tough taskmaster, but she’s practically a saint by comparison to Kiera Malone,” Bryan said. “And before you say it, the same could be said of Moira.”

Luke’s eyes widened in surprise. “You think Kiera is more maddening than Moira?”

“At least a thousand percent,” Bryan confirmed.

“Really?” Luke asked skeptically. “Then, again, you didn’t know Moira back when we first met. Let’s just say I found her to be a challenge.” He regarded Bryan intently. “Much the same way you look upon Kiera.” He grinned suddenly, looking oddly satisfied, as if something he’d been theorizing about had just been confirmed. “This should be interesting to watch.”

Bryan regarded him suspiciously. “You’re not going to tell her to back off?”

Luke laughed. “I’ve told her the kitchen is your domain. What more can I do?” he inquired a little too innocently.

“Remind her that this is your pub and that she is most definitely not in charge, at least when it comes to me.”

“I’ll mention it,” Luke agreed. “But she’s a strong-willed woman.”

Bryan regarded him with confusion, but then understanding dawned. “You’re actually enjoying this test of wills that’s developing between us, aren’t you?”

“A tiny bit,” Luke conceded. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with the pub running smoothly, I intend to enjoy this in much the way my family enjoyed watching Moira tie me up in knots.”

“Not the same,” Bryan said fiercely. “They thought you needed someone to shake up your life. I’m not looking for a challenge in mine.”

“Neither was I,” Luke replied. “Lo and behold, though, there was Moira. As my grandmother took great pleasure in reminding me, we don’t necessarily get to choose when love comes along.”

Bryan gave him a horrified look. “Love? If you think that has anything at all to do with what’s going on between Kiera Malone and me, then you need a bit of counseling about relationships.”

Luke laughed. “My wife would probably say the same, but I think I’m right about this. All that chemistry will explode one of these days.”

“Just pray it doesn’t take your pub down with it,” Bryan retorted.

As his boss walked away, Bryan got the distinct impression he might be doomed. That deli in Baltimore was looking better and better.


Chapter 6 (#u759c93d3-b3bd-5062-b4f9-8f1055888241)

For the better part of a week following their last confrontation, Kiera managed to steer clear of Bryan. Obviously she had to speak to him when placing orders or relaying special requests from their customers, but there was a deliberate civility between them these days. She should have been grateful, but it was starting to get on her nerves almost as badly as their previous exchanges of quick-tempered words. She knew exactly how to deal with a mercurial temper. Stiff politeness was something else entirely.

“You and Bryan seem to have made peace,” Moira said one evening as the crowd was thinning. “I’m not hearing the tart comments and testy tones this week. How did that come about?”

Kiera shrugged. “We’re both trying a bit harder, I suppose. Luke has repeatedly told me he wants peace and harmony among the staff. I’m trying to do my part to achieve that. Bryan must be as well, though it doesn’t seem to suit him. He cuts himself off midsentence, when we both know perfectly well he wants to lash out and put me in my place.”

Moira regarded her curiously. “You don’t sound pleased about him making the effort.”

Kiera hesitated then admitted, “It doesn’t seem quite natural, if you know what I mean. Has Luke gone a step beyond and ordered him to be on his best behavior around me just because I’m your mother?”

“I seriously doubt it,” Moira said. “Has he given you instructions to go easy on Bryan?”

“He’s stressed again and again that Bryan’s invaluable as his chef and that we need to find a way to get along. I’ve taken that to heart, but I thought Bryan was too stubborn to listen.”

Moira smiled. “Well, however it came about, you’re doing as Luke wanted.”

“Not really. What we’re doing is being exceedingly polite whenever we can’t possibly avoid each other. That’s not the same as real teamwork.”

Her daughter carefully banked a smile. “And that’s now driving you crazy? Do you have any idea why?”

“I told you before. It’s not natural.”

“And the bickering felt right?”

“Well, of course not,” Kiera said impatiently, knowing that she was making little sense. “Who wants to argue with someone day and night over the slightest thing?”

Moira laughed. “Do you know what my brothers told me about the early days when Dad was still around?”

Kiera stared at her, startled by the change of topic, especially the shift to Sean Malone. Moira knew perfectly well that she didn’t like talking about the past in general or Sean in particular. “The three of you talked about that?”

“Of course we did. I was curious about the man I never got to meet. You never wanted to answer my questions. It always made you either sad or angry, so I stopped asking you and coaxed things out of the two of them. Not that they could be credited with much insight, but their memories were clear enough.”

Kiera should have realized that her daughter would naturally be curious about the father who’d abandoned her. And, given Moira’s stubborn streak, Kiera also should have known her daughter wouldn’t have given up without answers from someone. Just because she’d stopped asking Kiera, Kiera shouldn’t have assumed she’d stopped asking at all.

“And what did your brothers tell you?” Kiera inquired. “Not that they could be trusted. They were practically babies themselves.”

“They were old enough to remember that before the drinking got so bad, the two of you would argue night and day. Bickering is what they called it.”

“And they recalled that as being a happy time?” Kiera asked incredulously.

“They said it was always with an undertone of affection and that you always kissed and made up.”

Kiera sighed. That much was true. There had been so much heat between them that any conversation could turn from peaceful to all-out warfare in a heartbeat, then end with another sort of passion entirely. She hadn’t known her sons were so aware of the pattern. She’d assumed they were far too young to have any real awareness of the stormy dynamics between their parents.

“Did you?” Moira prodded. “Always kiss and make up?”

Unable to speak past the lump in her throat, Kiera nodded. “Until we didn’t.”

“They noted the change,” Moira said, surprising Kiera again. “They said it was as if you both simply stopped caring about making things right and the arguing was all that mattered.”

That summed it up nicely, Kiera thought, but concluded they’d delved into the past quite enough for one sitting. And she wasn’t sure she liked where her daughter was heading with this.

“Are you drawing some sort of comparison between those days and what goes on between me and Bryan? If so, you couldn’t be more wrong.” She hoped her firm words would put an end to that, though she was forced to admit she’d wondered about it herself lately. While she hadn’t reached any conclusions, she had lectured herself with reminders that it was not a pattern to be embraced yet again.

“I’ve seen the passion in your exchanges with Bryan,” Moira insisted.

“It’s not of a personal nature. It’s because I care about doing my job, about doing the best I can for Luke and the pub,” Kiera countered, satisfied with the spin.

“That’s some of it, I’m sure, but I think it runs deeper. I think there’s chemistry at work. I’ll admit I didn’t like it at first. I said as much to Luke. I thought it was disrespectful to Peter, but I’m forced to admit that it’s made you come alive. There’s been a spark in your eyes and color in your cheeks.” She regarded Kiera intently. “That’s really all I want for you. I want you to go on living.”

“And you think battling wits with Bryan Laramie over his Irish stew or his fish and chips holds the key to that?”

“Maybe. It’s not as if you have to rush into something with him or anyone else. Just keep an open mind, the same way I’m trying to do.”

“Moira, darling, I love that you want to see me happy, but some sort of romance with a man who gets on my last nerve is not the answer. The only thing I feel when I see Bryan is the desire to shake some sense into him.”

Moira laughed. “Exactly.”

“You have a very odd understanding of the way relationships should work,” Kiera concluded. “I suppose I’m to blame for that, since I set no example at all for you. Your dad was long gone and I never let another man into our lives until you pushed me toward Peter. He was another sort entirely. He was kind, respectful and steady, exactly the sort of man capable of giving me the life I’d never had.”

To her surprise, Moira looked deeply troubled by her words. “You would have settled for that?”

“It wasn’t settling,” Kiera said indignantly. “I was reaching for happiness. Why would you say such a thing? You and your grandfather believed that Peter was perfect for me. Now you’re questioning it?”

“I know. I’m surprised myself. It was just hearing the way you described him, as if he were a comfortable fit.”

“And what’s wrong with that? At my age and with my background with your father, comfortable holds a great appeal.”

“A few months ago, I would have agreed and seen nothing at all wrong with it,” Moira told her. “But it implies that you’re past passion, like a woman who chooses shoes that don’t hurt her feet over those that make her feel feminine and sexy.”

Kiera didn’t like the analogy, but she was forced to admit she could see the truth of it. “Perhaps that’s where I am in my life.”

“I don’t believe it. I’ve seen a difference when you’re around Bryan,” Moira said, then grinned. “I don’t like saying it, because you’re my mother, after all, but it reminds me of the way things are between Luke and me. There’s a lot of heat and electricity when the two of you are in the same room.”

It was a bit frightening to have her daughter romanticizing the situation. Kiera had to put an end to the speculation or any attempt at matchmaking it might inspire. “If there are any sparks at all, and I’m not saying there are, it’s only because he’s infuriating,” she responded emphatically.




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