The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

pair of them not yet twenty,” Darcy added with a shake of her head. “It’s a sorry way to start a life.”
    “Why do they have to get married?” Jude wanted to know. “They’re too young.”
    Darcy just stared at her. “Well, they’re having a baby, so what else is to be done?”
    Jude opened her mouth, shut it before she could logically point out the variety of alternatives. This, she reminded herself, was Ireland. Instead, she tried another route. “Is that what you’d do?” she asked Darcy. “If you found yourself pregnant?”
    “First, I’d be careful not to have sex with someone I wasn’t prepared to live with should the need arise. And second,” she said after some thought, “I’m twenty-four and employed, and not afraid of village gossip so much that I wouldn’t raise the child on my own if I’d made a blunder.”
    She turned her head then, lifted a brow at Jude. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
    “No!” Jude nearly swerved off the road before she recovered. “No, of course not.”
    “Why ‘of course not’ when you’ve been sleeping with Aidan every night for the past week? Protection’s all well and good, but it’s not infallible, is it?”
    “No, but . . .”
    “Ah, stop scaring her, Darcy. You know you’re just jealous because she’s having regular sex and you’re not.”
    Darcy tossed a sneering look toward the backseat. “And neither are you, my girl.”
    “And more’s the pity.” Brenna shifted, came forward to prop her arms on the back of the front seats. “So tell us poor deprived women about sex with Aidan. There’s a pal, Jude.”
    “No.” She said it with a laugh.
    “Oh, don’t be a prude.” Brenna poked her shoulder.“Tell me, does he take his sweet time about it, or is he a member of the Irish Foreplay Club?”
    “The Irish Foreplay Club?”
    “Ah, you’ve not heard of it,” Brenna said soberly as Darcy snickered. “Their battle cry is ‘Brace yourself, Bridget.’ Then they’re in and out before their lager’s gone warm.”
    Surprising herself, Jude all but screamed with laughter. “He doesn’t call me Bridget unless I call him Shamus.”
    “She’s made a joke.” Darcy wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “Our Jude. What a proud moment this is.”
    “And a fine one,” Brenna agreed. “But tell us, Jude, does he take his time with it, sort of sliding around and nibbling in the right places, or is it all hot and fast and over with before you can call out you’ve seen God?”
    “I can’t talk about sex with Aidan with his sister in the car.”
    “Well, then, let’s dump her out so you can tell me.”
    “Why can’t you talk of it?” Darcy demanded, with barely a pause for a glare at Brenna. “I know he has sex. The bastard. But if it troubles you, don’t think of me as his sister for the moment, but as your friend.”
    Exasperated, Jude blew out a breath. “All right, I’ll just say it’s the best I’ve ever had. Although with William it was like . . . a precise military march,” she decided, shocking herself again. “And before him there was only Charles.”
    “Charles, was it? Brenna, our Jude has a past.”
    “And who was Charles?” Brenna prompted.
    “He was in finance.”
    “So he was rich.” Darcy pounced eagerly on the magic word.
    “His family was. We met during my last year of college. I suppose the physical relationship with him was . . . Well,let’s say that when it was done all the figures added up, but it was a rather tedious process. Aidan’s romantic.”
    Her companions made oohing noises that had her giggling helplessly. “Oh, stop. I’m not saying another word about it.”
    “What a bitch to tease us that way.” Brenna tugged on Jude’s hair. “Sure you can give us just one little example of his romantic side as relates to good sex.”
    “One?”
    “Just one and we’ll be satisfied, won’t we, Darcy?”
    “Why, of course. We wouldn’t pry into her personal life, would we?”
    “All right. The first time, he picked me up right off the floor at the cottage and carried me upstairs. All the way upstairs to the bedroom.”
    “Like Rhett carried Scarlett?” Darcy asked. “Or over the shoulder like you were a sack of potatoes?”
    “Like Rhett and Scarlett.”
    “That’s a good one.” Brenna pillowed her cheek on her arms. “He gets high marks for that.”
    “He treats me like I’m special.”
    “Why shouldn’t he?” Darcy demanded.
    “No one ever has. And,