The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

door that swung between kitchen and pub. “A good-natured girl if a bit scattered in the brain. She wants to marry Billy O’Hara, and that is the sum total of her ambitions at this time.”
    “And what does Billy O’Hara have to say?”
    “Being not quite so ambitious as Sinead, Billy keeps his mouth shut. Good day to you, Aidan.”
    “And to you.” The oldest of the Gallaghers worked the bar and had his hands on the taps as he looked over. “Will you be joining us for lunch then?”
    “That we will. We’ve caught you busy.”
    “God bless the tour buses.” With a wink, Aidan slid two pints down the bar to waiting hands.
    “Do you want us to take it in the kitchen?”
    “No need for that unless you’re in a great hurry.” His eyes, a deeper blue than his brother’s, scanned the pub. “Service is a mite slower than our usual. But there’s a table or two left.”
    “We’ll leave it to the boss.” Brenna turned to Trevor. “How will you have it?”
    “Let’s get a table.” The better to watch how the business ran.
    He followed her out and sat with her at one of the mushroom sized tables. There was a buzz of conversation, a haze of smoke and the yeasty scent of beer.
    “Will you have a pint?” Brenna asked him.
    “Not until after the workday.”
    Her lips twitched as she kicked back in her chair. “So I’ve heard from some of the men. Word is you’re a tyrant on this particular matter.”
    He didn’t mind the term tyrant. It meant he was in control. “Word would be correct.”
    “I’ll tell you this, you may have a bit of a problem enforcing such a rule around here. Many who’ll labor for you were nursed on Guinness and it’s as natural to them as mother’s milk.”
    “I’m fond of it myself, but when a man or woman is on my clock, they stick with mother’s milk.”
    “Ah, you’re a hard man, Trevor Magee.” But she said it with a laugh. “So tell me, how are you liking Faerie Hill Cottage?”
    “Very much. It’s comfortable, efficient, quiet, and has a view that rips your heart into your throat. It’s just what I was looking for, so I’m grateful you put me onto it.”
    “That’s not a problem, not a problem at all. It’s in the family. I think Shawn misses the little kitchen there as the house we’re building’s far from finished. More than livable,” she added, as it was one of their current sore points, “but I figure to concentrate on the kitchen there on my off days so he’ll be happier.”
    “I’d like to see it.”
    “Would you?” Surprised, she angled her head. “Well, you’re welcome any time. I’ll give you the direction. Do you mind me saying I didn’t expect you to be as friendly a sort of man as you seem to be.”
    “What did you expect?”
    “More of a shark, and I hope that doesn’t offend you.”
    “It doesn’t. And it depends on the waters where I’m swimming.” He glanced over, and his face warmed as Aidan’s wife came up to the table. But when he started to rise, Jude waved him down again.
    “No, I’m not joining you, but thanks.” She rested a hand on her very pregnant belly. “Hello, I’m Jude Frances and I’ll be your server today.”
    “You shouldn’t be on your feet like this, carrying trays.”
    Jude sighed as she took out her order pad. “He sounds like Aidan. I put my feet up when I need to, and I don’t carry anything heavy. Sinead can’t handle things on her own.”
    “Not to worry, Trevor. Why me own blessed mother dug potatoes on the day I was born, then went back to roast them after the delivery.” At Trevor’s narrowed glance, Brenna chuckled. “Well, maybe not, but I’ll wager she could have. I’ll have today’s soup, if you don’t mind, Jude, and a glass of milk,” she added with a wicked smile for Trevor.
    “The same,” he said, “plus the sandwich.”
    “A fine choice. I’ll be right back with it.”
    “She’s stronger than she looks,” Brenna told him when Jude moved to another table. “And more stubborn. Now that she’s found her direction, so to speak, she’ll only work harder to prove she can do what you tell her she shouldn’t. Aidan won’t let her overdo, I promise you. The man adores her.”
    “Yes, I’ve noticed. The Gallagher men seem to be devoted to their women.”
    “So they better be, or their women will know why.” Relaxed, she kicked back, pulled off her cap. Those red curls tumbled down. “So you aren’t finding it, I guess we’d say, too rustic for you