The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

headed.
    The banging, he noted, was from inside the baby’s closet. Following impulse, a rare thing for him, he closed the door, locked it, and pocketed the key. That, at least, would keep her from walking out on him until he’d finished.
    Braced for the explosion he was sure he was inviting, he walked toward the closet.
    “Jude? Back so soon? Well, have a look at these shelves here and see if they’re to your liking.” From the third step on her ladder, she looked over her shoulder and saw Shawn in the doorway.
    He waited, but rather than blistering him with her tongue, she just looked through him, then turned back to work.
    That, he thought, was a very dire sign indeed.
    “I want to talk to you,” he began.
    “I’m working. I’ve no time for chatting.”
    “I need to talk to you.” He stepped in, laid a hand on her hip. It took a great deal of courage not to spring back when she stared down on him and took a fresh grip on her hammer. “Would you put that down?”
    “No.”
    He might have had courage, but he also had brains. In a quick move, he yanked the hammer out of her hand. “I’ve a knot the size of a fucking golf ball on my head. I’m not after a second one. I just want a few words with you, Brenna.”
    “I’ve nothing to say to you, Shawn, and as I value the friendship we’ve had all our lives, I’ll ask you to leave me be for now.”
    Dire indeed, he thought as a tongue of panic licked the inside of his throat. “I want to apologize to you.” She shifted on the ladder again, gave him her back and pulled out her measuring tape.
    The woman brought out the worst in him, was all Shawn could think as he gripped her by the hips and lifted her down from the ladder. She came around swinging, and though he’d expected no less, he didn’t dodge the blow. Not after he’d caught the sheen of tears in her eyes.
    “I’m sorry.” Panic was more than a sly lick now. It simply coated his throat. “Don’t cry. I can’t stand it.”
    “I’m not crying.” She’d let the tears burn her eyes out of her head before she let a single one fall in his presence. “I asked you to leave me be. Since you won’t, I’ll leave you.”
    She strode to the door, wrenched at the knob, then simply gaped in shock. “You locked the door!” She whirled back. “Have you lost your mind?”
    “I know you—so I knew you wouldn’t listen. Now you have to.”
    He saw her slide a look toward her toolbox, imagined she was thinking of the nice weapon supply inside. However sincere his apology, he wasn’t prepared to have holes hacked out of him, so he stepped over to put himself between Brenna and temptation.
    “You say our friendship matters to you. It matters to me as well. It matters a great deal to me. You matter to me, Brenna.”
    “Is that why you treated me like some tramp last night?”
    Her voice broke, alarming him, so he bore down. “I suppose it was, yes. It’s not a regular thing, after all, for me to see you looking that way.”
    Frustration had her throwing up her hands. “ What way?”
    “Lovely.” He saw her eyes go round in shock, and took advantage of the moment to step a little closer. “You looked so polished up and female.”
    “I am female, for God’s sake.”
    “I know it, but you don’t usually trouble to make it an issue.”
    “Why should it be?” she demanded. It was a sore point, and one she hated probing. “Just because I know how to hammer a nail or fix a pipe, I’m not allowed to be a woman as well? Wearing a dress and some lipstick makes me a tramp?”
    “No, it makes me a fool for letting you think I meant that. Clumsy, foolish, and spiteful. And I’m sorry for it.”
    When she said nothing, he stuck his hands in his pockets, pulled them out again. Best, he told himself, to get it all out and over. “The truth of it is, I was thinking of you, thinking about things when you walked in, looking the way you did and about to go off with another man. I was jealous. I didn’t realize it at the time, didn’t want to admit it later after my mind had cleared a bit. I’ve never been jealous before. I can’t say I cared for it.”
    She’d calmed down enough to begin to speculate. And consider. “I didn’t like it much myself.”
    “I told myself you’d done it—put on that dress and left your hair all falling down and made your mouth slick and wet to stir me up.”
    Yes, she considered. And she nodded. “Sure I might’ve, if I’d thought of it. My mind just