The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

I’m talking about, you bloody lecher. She’s barely twenty, hardly more than a girl.”
    “What?” He shoved her hand away before she could stab straight into his heart. “What?”
    “If you think I’m going to stand by idle while you add her to your string of ladies, then you’d best keep thinking.”
    “My . . . Mary Kate?” Sheer shock came first. Then he remembered how the young girl—no, no, young woman, he corrected—had looked when she’d smiled and fluttered her pretty lashes. “Mary Kate,” he said, more thoughtfully, and with just a hint of a smile.
    A hot red haze filled Brenna’s head. “You get that gleam out of your eye, Shawn Gallagher, or I swear I’ll blacken both of them.”
    Because her fists were raised, he took a cautious step back and lifted his hands palms out. They were well beyond the stage where he could, in all conscience, wrestle with her. “Brenna, calm yourself down. I never touched her, never thought to. Never thought of her in the way you’re meaning until you mentioned it yourself. For Christ’s sake, I’ve known her since she was in nappies.”
    “Well, she’s not in nappies now.”
    “No, indeed, she’s not,” he said with perhaps an unwise hint of approval. So he supposed the fist that landed in his gut was his own fault. “Jesus, Brenna, a man can’t be faulted for appreciating.”
    “You do that appreciating from a distance. If you make a move in that direction, I promise you I’ll break both your legs.”
    It was rare for him to lose his temper, so he recognized that he was coming dangerously close. To solve the matter, he simply cupped his hands under her elbows and lifted her off her feet until their eyes were level. Both shock and fury fired in hers.
    “Don’t you threaten me. If I had thoughts of that nature regarding Mary Kate, then I’d act on them and that would be between the two of us, and not you. Do you understand that?”
    “She’s my sister,” Brenna began, then subsided when he gave her one hard shake.
    “And that gives you the right to embarrass her and take punches at me when we’ve done no more than stand in my kitchen and talk? Well, I’m standing here talking to you, too, and have countless times before. Have I ripped your clothes off and had my way with you?”
    He dropped her down on her feet again and stung her beyond belief by merely turning his back. “You should be ashamed where you’ve let your mind run,” he said quietly.
    “I—” The tears were going to come after all. She struggled with them, swallowed viciously, then could only stare through them as Darcy came in. “I have to go,” was the best she could manage. Then she fled through the back door.
    “Shawn.” Darcy dumped empties in the sink and turned to glare at him. “What the devil did you do to make Brenna cry?”
    Guilt, anger, and emotions he didn’t care to explore waged an ugly war inside him. “Oh, just bugger it,” he snapped. “I’ve had enough of females for one night.”
     
     
    She was mortified and full of misery. She’d upset, insulted, and embarrassed two people she cared about deeply. She’d butted in where it wasn’t her business.
    No, she didn’t believe that. It was her business. Mary Kate had been flirting outrageously, and Shawn had been oblivious.
    Typical.
    But he wouldn’t have stayed oblivious. Her sister was beautiful, she was sweet, she was smart. And she was most definitely a young woman in full bloom.
    Protecting her hadn’t been the mistake. But the method had been clumsy, and more than a little selfish. Because—and she had to face it—she’d also been a woman defending her territory.
    Of which, Shawn was also oblivious.
    All she could do now was mend her fences.
    She’d taken a long walk on the beach. To cry it out, to think it through, to settle herself. And to ensure that when she did return home, her parents would most likely be tucked into their bed so that she could talk with Mary Kate alone.
    There was a light on outside, shining over the porch, and another left burning in the front window. She left them both on, as she doubted her sister Patty would be back yet from her Saturday date.
    Another wedding, she thought as she took off her jacket. More fussing and planning and cranky tears over flowers and fabric swatches.
    She couldn’t for the life of her understand why a sensible person would want to go through all of that nonsense. Maureen had been a nervous wreck—and had set the entire