The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

pressed so tight against her she felt her heart knocking against the cover. “Aidan.”
    He served a pint at the bar, took the coin. “Jude. Hello, darling. Can’t you find a seat?”
    “No, I—”
    “We’ll cozy you down in the snug, but I want you home and tucked in before this storm hits. Two pints Smithwick’s. That’s three pounds and twenty.”
    “Aidan, I want to show you something.”
    “I’ll be with you in just a minute, darling. Eighty pence is your change.”
    “A minute be damned.” Out of patience, Darcy grabbed Aidan’s arm. “Look at her, you great baboon.”
    “What’s the matter? Can’t you see I’ve customers here who—” But he broke off, his grin bursting wide as he saw what was clutched in his wife’s arms. “Your book!”
    “It just came. It’s right off the press. It’s real. It’s beautiful.”
    “Of course it is. Are you going to let me see?”
    “Yes. I . . . I can’t move.”
    “Jude Frances.” The tenderness in his voice made Darcy’s throat swell. “I love you. Here, now, give it over.”
    Gently he tugged it out of her grip, studying the back cover first, where her picture was printed. “Isn’t she pretty, my Jude, so solemn-eyed and lovely.”
    “Oh, turn it over, Aidan.” Jude might have danced if the baby hadn’t been weighing so heavy. “That part’s not important.”
    “It is to me. Everyone can look at this and see what fine taste I have in wives.” But he did turn it over, and let out an ah of delight.
    J EWELS OF THE S UN
And Other Irish Legends Jude Frances Gallagher
    The title ran across the top, and her name across the bottom of a brilliantly colored illustration depicting a man in silver and a woman with pale hair riding across a bold blue sky on a winged white horse.
    “It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “Jude Frances, it’s beautiful.”
    “It really is, isn’t it?” She didn’t mind the tears that slid down her cheeks. They felt wonderful and right and well deserved. “I can’t stop looking at it, touching it. I thought I knew how much it meant. I wasn’t even close.”
    “I’m so proud of you.” He lowered his head to press his lips to her forehead. “You have to give this one to me, so I can sit and read every word.”
    “Start now, with the dedication.”
    When he opened it, began reading the flyleaf, she turned the pages herself. “No, you can read that later. Read this now.”
    Indulging her, he began to read. Then his eyes changed, darkened, lifted to hers. The look that passed between them was strong and vibrant. This time when he kissed her, he took her mouth.
    “A ghra” was all he said when he lifted his head, laid his cheek against her hair. My love.
    “Take Jude back in the snug,” Darcy murmured. “She shouldn’t be on her feet so long. Take some time with her. I’ll see to the bar here.”
    “Thanks. Just let me settle her in, get her some tea.” Emotions still swirled in his eyes as he handed Darcy the book. “Have a care with it.”
    Ignoring customers, Darcy opened the book, and read what Aidan had.
    For Aidan who showed me my own heart,
    and gave me his.
    With him I learned there is no magic
    more potent than love.
    “May I see it?”
    Eyes drenched, Darcy looked across the bar at Trevor. Because she was unable to speak, she handed the book to him and immediately started the first layer on a pair of Guinnesses.
    “It’s gorgeous.”
    “Of course it is. It’s Jude’s.”
    Saying nothing, he walked behind the bar, set the book on a shelf out of harm’s way, then took out his handkerchief.
    “Thanks.” She sniffled, dried her eyes.
    “Sentiment looks lovely on you.”
    “It doesn’t get the work done. It’s Aidan’s turn to be sentimental now. I’ll take mine later.”
    She tucked the handkerchief in her pocket—just in case. “Isn’t it wonderful ?” She did a little step dance, then beamed at the next customer who came to the bar to order. “My sister’s a famous author, and this is her book.” She snatched it back off the shelf. “It’ll be in bookshops in just a couple of weeks now. You should buy it as soon as you can. Now what can I get you?”
    “Darcy, are you ever picking up these orders, or do I have to serve as well as cook?” Obviously put-upon, Shawn came through the kitchen door carrying a loaded tray.
    “Look, you peabrain.” She turned and all but shoved the book under his nose.
    “It’s Jude’s!” He set the tray on the bar with a clatter