The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

I’ll go no farther than this, until the waiting’s done. Handle Darcy, Magee, before she handles you.”
    “My life,” Trevor said briefly. “My business.” He strode down the slope toward the house and his car. But he couldn’t resist a glance back.
    It barely surprised him that Carrick had vanished. All that was left was the green hill, and sweetly, brightly, the two-tone call of a bird.
    The cuckoo, Trevor supposed. He couldn’t think of anything more apt.
    Put it aside, he ordered himself and continued to walk. Tuck away the sentiment over long-dead relatives and their sweethearts, visits with faerie princes, and messages for beautiful ghosts.
    He had business to attend to.
    But he slipped the chain around his neck, and tucked the silver disk under his shirt, where it lay to warm against his heart.

 
     
     
     
EIGHT
     
     
    T HE HOME TEAM always had the edge. Trevor knew it going in, but didn’t see a way around it. Not only was the house Gallagher turf, but the village, the county, the whole damn country was theirs. Unless he found a way to shift the meeting to New York, he would just have to play it as underdog.
    Added to that, they outnumbered him. It couldn’t be helped.
    Not that he minded working a deal when the odds were against him. The challenge of it only made the satisfaction of success sweeter.
    He’d already worked out his approach. The questions, the doubts, the general unease of what he supposed would be termed his paranormal experiences would just have to wait until after business hours.
    The minute he knocked on the door of the Gallagher house, he was representing Magee Enterprises. It was a responsibility, and a privilege, that he took very seriously.
    Darcy opened the door, a sassy smile on her face, her head tilted at the perfect angle to display both arrogance and humor.
    Jesus, he’d like to take her in one quick gulp and be done with it. Instead he greeted her with an easy grin. “Afternoon, Miss Gallagher.”
    “And a good day to you, Mr. Magee.” Deliberately provocative, she stepped toward him rather than back. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”
    He wanted to swallow her whole. “Later.” She gave her head a little toss that sent her clouds of dark hair tumbling back. “I might not be in the mood later.”
    “You will be, if I kiss you.”
    She shrugged, though she was faintly irritated, then moved back to let him in. “I like confidence in a man. Mostly. The rest of us are in the kitchen, awaiting your presence. Is this to do with your theater?”
    “Partly.”
    Irritation clicked up another level, but she spoke coolly as she led him toward the rear of the house. “And a mysterious man as well. Now I’m in love for certain.”
    “How many times would this make?”
    “Oh, I stopped counting years ago. I’ve such a fickle heart. How many is that for you?”
    “Still batting zero here.”
    “That’s a pity. Here’s himself come to call,” Darcy announced over what seemed to Trevor to be a heated conversation around the table.
    “If I’m interrupting . . .”
    “Not at all.” Aidan rose and waved a hand toward Brenna and Shawn, who sat scowling at each other. “If these two don’t snap at each other six times a week, we’re worried enough to ring up the doctor.”
    “You said you’d leave the details of the house to me,” Brenna reminded her husband.
    “You’re talking about the materials and colors of the kitchen counters and such. Who does the bloody cooking?”
    “The blue laminate’s pretty and sensible.”
    “The granite’s subtle and strong. It’ll last two lifetimes.”
    “Well, we’ve only this one to concern us at present, don’t we? Trevor—”
    Even as she turned to him, Trevor held up a hand. “No, absolutely no. Don’t even think of asking me for an opinion. I have no opinion when it comes to arguments between husband and wife.”
    “ ’Tisn’t an argument.” Sulking, Brenna sat back, folded her arms. “But a discussion. I can have the laminate done in a wink. Do you know how long it’ll take to do the damn business in granite?”
    “When it’s right you wait.” Shawn leaned over, kissed her softly. “And then you treasure.”
    “You think you’ll get around me that way?”
    “I do, yes.”
    She sucked in a breath, then let it out on a huff. “ Bastard,” she said, with great affection.
    “Well, now that we’ve settled that vital and thorny matter . . .” Aidan gestured Trevor to a chair. “Can we