The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

sort that grabbed the heart with both hands and took it over, was such a bloody responsibility. And life was so pleasant just as it was. He had his music and the pub, his friends and his family, and now the little cottage on the hill that was all his.
    Well, except for the ghost, who didn’t appear to want his company in any case.
    So he took his time, thinking it all through and going about his business. He had fish to fry and potatoes to slice and a great whopping shepherd’s pie cooking in the oven. The sounds of Saturday night were beginning to heat up in the pub beyond his kitchen door. The musicians from Galway that Aidan had booked were slipping into a ballad, and the tenor was doing a fine job singing about Ballystrand.
    Since Darcy had gotten in her shopping fix with Jude in Dublin, she was in a rare mood, all smiles and cooperation. Orders she called out to him like a song, then danced back out with them when he’d finished his part. Why, they hadn’t had a hard word between them for the whole of the day.
    He thought it might be a record.
    When he heard the kitchen door swing open, letting in a flood of music, he slid a long slice of golden fish onto a plate. “I’ve all but got this last order done here, darling. And the pie needs only five minutes more.”
    “I’d love some of it when it’s done.”
    He glanced over his shoulder and beamed. “Mary Kate! I thought you were Darcy. And how are you, then, sweetheart?”
    “I’m fine and well.” She let the door swing shut behind her. “And you?”
    “The same.” He drained chips and arranged the orders even as he studied her.
    Brenna’s younger sister had blossomed during her university years. He thought she’d be about one and twenty now, and pretty as a picture. Her hair was a sunnier, more golden red than Brenna’s, and she wore it in soft waves that fell just past her chin. Her eyes had a touch of gray over the green, and she smudged them up prettily. She wasn’t much taller than her oldest sister, but fuller at the bust and hip, and she wore a dark green Saturday-night dress to show off a very attractive figure.
    “You look more than fine and well to me.” He tucked the orders under the warmer, then leaned back on the counter so they could have a little chat. “When did you manage to grow up on me? You must be flaying the lads off with sticks on a daily basis.”
    She laughed, struggling to make the sound mature and female rather than the giggle that wanted to bubble out of her throat. The crush she’d developed on Shawn Gallagher was very recent, and very strong. “Oh, I’ve been too busy to do much flaying, what with working at the hotel and all.”
    “You like your work there.”
    “Very much. You should come ’round.” She stepped closer, trying to keep her movements both casual and seductive. “Have yourself a busman’s holiday and let me treat you to a meal there.”
    “That’s a thought, isn’t it?” He gave her a wink that set her pulse skipping, then turned to open the oven and check his pie.
    She moved closer. “That smells wonderful. You’ve such a hand with cooking. So many men are bumblers in the kitchen, it seems.”
    “When a man, or a woman for that matter, bumbles about in the kitchen it’s usually because they know someone will come along and chase them out and deal with the matter to save the time and annoyance.”
    “That’s wise.” She all but whispered it, with reverence. “But though you’re so good at it, I’ll bet you’d like to have someone fix you a meal now and then instead of always fussing with it yourself.”
    “Sure and I can’t say as I’d mind it.”
    When Brenna walked in the back door, the first and only thing she saw was Shawn Gallagher smiling into her sister’s dazzled eyes.
    “Mary Kate.” Her voice was sharp as the tip of a whip, and at the sound of it her sister flushed and jerked back. “What are you doing?”
    “I’m . . . just talking with Shawn.”
    “You’ve no business being back here in the kitchen wearing your good dress and getting in Shawn’s way.”
    “She’s not in the way.” Used to being scolded by his elders, Shawn gave Mary Kate a comforting pat on the cheek. And being a man, he didn’t see the dream clouds come into her eyes.
    But Brenna saw them. Teeth gritted, she strode forward, took Mary Kate’s arm in an iron grip, and pulled her toward the door.
    The humiliation of it whisked away the mature sophistication Mary Kate had worked