The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

allow him to treat me like a queen.”
    Brenna snorted, reached for more chips. “And the moment he does, he’ll bore you to tears. Darcy’s a perverse creature,” she told Jude. “That’s what we love about her. Now me, I’m a simple, straightforward sort. I’m after a man who’ll look me straight in the eye, see what and who I am . . .” She drank, snickered. “Then fall to his knees and promise me everything.”
    “They never see what you are.” Shocked, Jude glanced around to see who’d spoken, then realized she had.
    “Don’t they?” Brenna wanted to know, lifting her brow as she topped off Jude’s glass yet again.
    “They see a reflection of their own perception. Whore or angel, mother or child. Depending on their view, they’re compelled to protect or conquer or exploit. Or you’re a convenience,” she murmured. “Easily discarded.”
    “And you say I’m cynical,” Darcy said with a smirk for Brenna. “Have you been discarded then, Jude?”
    There was a pleasant buzz in her blood, a lovely spin in her head. The logical part of her said it was the wine. But the heart of her, the needy heart, said it was the company. Girls. She’d never had a foolish girl night in her life.
    She picked up a chip, examined it, nibbled, sighed. “Three years ago next June I was married.”
    “Married?” Both Brenna and Darcy leaned closer.
    “Seven months later, he came home and calmly told me he was very sorry, but he was in love with someone else. He thought it best for all parties involved if he moved out that night, and we filed for divorce immediately.”
    “Why, the cad!” In sympathy, Brenna poured wine all around. “The bastard!”
    “Not really. He was honest about it.”
    “Fuck honesty. I hope you skinned him.” Darcy’s eyes sparkled with malice. “Hardly more than six months into marriage and he’s in love with someone else? The snake barely waited long enough to change the sheets on the marriage bed. What did you do about it?”
    “Do?” Jude’s brows drew together. “I filed for divorce the next day.”
    “And took him for everything he had.”
    “No, of course not.” Sincerely shocked at the notion,she gaped at Darcy. “We just each took what was ours. It was very civilized.”
    Because Darcy appeared to have been struck speechless, Brenna took up the torch. “If you’re asking me, civilized divorces are why there are so many bloody marriages that end in it. Me, I’d rather a good fight, screaming and broken crockery, fists flying. If I loved a man enough to vow to be part of him for life, I’d damn well make him pay in blood and flesh if he threw me over.”
    “I didn’t love him.” The minute the words were out, Jude’s mouth dropped open. “I mean—I don’t know if I loved him. My God, that’s just awful, that’s horrible! I just realized it. I have no idea if I loved William at all.”
    “Well, I say he was a bastard and you should have kicked his ass, then set it out for the dogs, love or not.” Darcy selected one of Mollie O’Toole’s homemade brownies and bit into it with gusto. “I promise you this—in fact, I take an oath on it here and now—whatever man I’m with, whenever I’m with him, it’ll be me who ends it. And if he should try to close it off before I’m ready, he’ll pay for it the rest of his days.”
    “Men don’t leave women like you,” Jude put in. “You’re the kind of woman they leave me for.” She caught her breath. “I didn’t mean—I only meant—”
    “Don’t worry yourself. I think there was a compliment in there.” And being more pleased than offended, Darcy patted Jude’s arm. “And I’m also thinking if your tongue’s that loose, you’ve had enough wine that you’ll let me play with your clothes. Let’s take all this upstairs.”
    Jude didn’t know what to make of it. Perhaps it was because she’d never had any sisters to casually raid her closet. None of her friends had shown particular interest in her wardrobe, other than the usual comments on a new jacket or suit.
    She’d never considered herself especially fashion-wise and tended to lean toward classic lines and good fabrics.
    But from the muffled sounds coming from where Darcy’s head was buried in the armoire, Jude’s wardrobe had taken on the sheen of Aladdin’s treasure.
    “Oh, just look at this jumper! It’s cashmere.” Darcy yanked out a hunter-green turtleneck and pleasured herself by rubbing it against her