The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

best of all, wine.” Darcy clinked the three bottles she carried as she casually booted the door closed behind her.
    “Oh. Well. . .” Jude hadn’t taken Darcy seriously, hadn’t been able to think of a reason either she or Brenna would want to come over. But they were already heading toward the kitchen in a flurry of movement and chatter.
    “Aidan tried to have me work another shift tonight to make up for walking out today. I told him to bugger it,” Darcy said cheerfully as she set the wine on the counter. “The man’d have me chained to the taps if I wasn’t fast on my feet. We’ll need a corkscrew.”
    “There’s one in the—”
    “Got it,” Brenna interrupted and simply shot a quick grin at Jude as she plucked it out of the drawer. “You should’ve seen the black looks Aidan sent us when we left the pub. ‘Why can’t you fetch her down and drink here,’ he wants to know, grumbling and muttering all the while.”
    “Then he sees I’m taking three bottles,” Darcy continued, rooting out glasses while Brenna opened the wine. “And he’s blathering on about how Jude Frances doesn’t have much of a head for spirits and we’re not to get you sick. Like you were some puppy we were going to give too many table scraps to on the sly. Men are such pea-brains.”
    “Now that’s a fine thing to drink to first off.” With a flourish, Brenna poured three glasses. “To the tiny brainsof the male of the species,” she stated, thrusting a glass at Jude and lifting her own.
    “Bless them every one,” Darcy added and drank. Then her eyes sparkled brilliantly at Jude, who’d done little more than stare. “Drink up, darling, then we’ll sit around and discuss the highs and lows of our sex lives just to get better acquainted.”
    Jude took one long gulp, blew out a breath. “I won’t have a great deal to contribute to that area of discussion.”
    Darcy laughed, a throaty sound of amusement. “Aidan’s after changing all that, now, isn’t he?”
    Jude opened her mouth, shut it again, then decided the best thing to do with it was drink after all.
    “Don’t tease her so, Darcy.” Brenna ripped open the bag of potato chips and dug in. Then winked. “We’ll get her drunk first, then pry it all out of her.”
    “When she’s drunk I’m going to talk her into letting me try on all her clothes.”
    They were talking so fast, Jude couldn’t keep up. “My clothes?”
    “You’ve wonderful clothes.” Darcy dropped into a chair. “We’re not that far from coloring and size, so I’m thinking some may fit me well enough. What size shoe do you wear?”
    “Shoe?” Jude looked down blankly at the half boots she wore. “Um, seven and a half, medium.”
    “That’s American sizing, let me think. . .” Darcy shrugged, sipped. “Well, close enough, take those off and let me see how they work on me.”
    “Take my shoes off?”
    “Your shoes, Jude.” Darcy’s eyes twinkled as she slipped off her own. “A couple more drinks and we’ll try on the trousers.”
    “You may as well,” Brenna advised around anothermouthful of potato chips. “She’s a demon about clothes, our Darcy, and she’ll hound you to death about it.”
    Feeling as mystified as she had by Maude’s graveside that afternoon, Jude sat and took off her shoes.
    “Oh!” Darcy stroked the boot like an indulgent mother her child’s cheek. “They’re like butter, aren’t they?” She looked up, her face stunning and filled with sheer female delight. “This is going to be fun.”
     
    “So he has it in his head that because I let him take me to dinner a time or two, and let him stick his tongue in my mouth, which was not nearly as exciting as he thought it was, that I’d be pleased and proud to strip naked and let him bounce on me. Sex is a fine pastime,” Darcy continued as she licked chocolate from her fingers. “But half the time or more, you’re better off just painting your nails and watching the telly.”
    “Maybe it’s the men you let lap at you.” Brenna gestured with her wineglass. “They’re all so dazzled they end up fumbling. What you need, Darcy my girl, is a man who’s as bone-deep cynical and self-absorbed and vain as you are yourself.”
    Jude choked on her wine, certain the insult would cause an argument, but Darcy merely smiled craftily. “And when I find him, and providing he’s rich as Midas, I’ll wrap him tidily around this finger here.” She held up her right index finger. “And