The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

muscle of her body tensed. “Come with you to New York City?”
    “You can sign the final papers there.” On his turf. “We’ll celebrate.” He wanted her to meet his family, see his home, his life. “The business won’t take that long. I’ll show you the city.” And give her a taste of what he could offer her.
    Trevor and New York. The thrill of being with him in a place she’d seen in dreams. And illusions. “I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more. That’s the truth.”
    “Then I’ll make the arrangements.”
    “I can’t, Trevor. I can’t go with you now.”
    “Why?”
    “It’s high season. You saw how it is in the pub with barely enough hands to go around. I can’t leave Aidan and Shawn short that way during summer season. It’s not right.”
    Damn it, he didn’t want her to be responsible, to be sensible now. “You can get someone to fill in for you. It’s only a few days.”
    “I could, and that would ease part of the problem. But I can’t leave here now, however much it appeals. Jude’s due any day. She needs her family, as does Aidan. What kind of a sister would I be to go dancing off at such a moment?”
    “I thought she had another week at least.”
    “Men.” She mustered up a smirk. “Babies come when they please, and first babies are the most willful, so I’m told. It’s lovely to think about going off with you now, but I couldn’t bear the guilt of it.”
    “We’ll take the Concorde. It’ll cut the traveling time down to negligible.”
    The Concorde. She rose, walked behind the bar for a ginger ale. Like a movie star, she thought. Jetting off wherever you pleased, whenever the mood struck, and arriving almost before you’d left.
    Dear God, she’d love it. He knew she would.
    “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
    She was right, and he knew it. Still, he wanted to push. There was an urgency inside him, to put things back on an even keel. No, that was a lie. To put things back, he thought, disgusted with himself, to his advantage.
    “You’re right. It’s bad timing.”
    “I can tell you I wish it wasn’t. A trip on the Concorde and a whirl through New York City. Any other time, I’d already be packing my bag.” She would, no matter what it cost, be cheerful, be casual, be the sophisticated woman he would understand. “So then, when do you go?”
    Go? For a moment he was completely, foolishly blank. He’d never intended to go without her. Boxed yourself in, Magee, he realized, and took a swig from her bottle when she brought it back to the table. “I’ll get the draft contract to you first, and if you’ve got no problem with it, have my people put the final together. Couple of days. That way I can do what I have to do there and bring the papers back with me.”
    “That’s efficient.”
    “Yeah.” He set the bottle down. It tasted foul. “My middle name.”
    “Let me know when you’ve made your plans.” She trailed a finger over the back of his hand. “I’ll give you a bon voyage that will hold you until your welcome back.”
    She was not cooperating, Trevor decided. The woman was not following the rules here. He brooded at his office table, staring out into the storm-tossed night when he should have been working.
    Why hadn’t she asked him to postpone his trip a few days? Even a couple of weeks? It would have provided the perfect opportunity to give in to her, to show her he was willing to make concessions to keep her happy.
    And why the hell hadn’t he looked before he’d leaped? Any moron would have known she wasn’t able to leave home just now. Which only proved that love made a man less than a moron. That was pathetic.
    The lightning that shattered the sky in one blinding streak perfectly suited his mood. Edgy, electric.
    Why hadn’t he come clean with her? Well, not clean , Trevor mused. Just more direct. It would have been simpler, and more productive, to have told her he wanted to take her to New York. Winding business through it, certainly, but that would have put a different tone on the whole thing. He’d clutched before the first swing, he admitted, then boxed himself in when he started the whole conversation by announcing he was going.
    Now he either went without her or made excuses.
    He hated making excuses.
    Thunder rumbled like laughter, whipped by the howling wind, and rain danced a frantic jig against his window.
    The trouble was, he didn’t know how to play it. And he always knew how to play it, how to find the most