The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

him hold his breath, and moved off to serve.
    She was having the time of her life. She was in the middle of it all, part of it all. Music and movement and shouted conversation and laughter. People called her by name and asked how it was all going. No one seemed the least surprised that she was taking orders and emptying ashtrays.
    She knew she didn’t have Darcy’s graceful efficiency and style, but she was handling it. And if she’d almost poured a pint of beer on Mr. Duffy, the operative word was “almost.” He’d caught it himself with a wink and grin and said he’d sooner have it in him than on him.
    She managed the money, too, and didn’t think she made any important mistakes. In fact, one of her apron pockets was bulging with tips that had her glowing with pride.
    When Shawn breezed by and swung her into a quick dance, she was too surprised to be embarrassed. “I don’t know how.”
    “Sure you do. Will you come by and play my music again, Jude Frances?”
    “I’d like that. But you have to let go. I’m running out of breath and stepping all over your feet.”
    “If you were to give me a kiss, you’d have Aidan boiling with jealousy.”
    “I would not. Really?” His grin was irresistible. “I’ll just kiss you because you’re so pretty.”
    When he gaped in shock at that, she kissed his cheek.“Now, I’m supposed to be working. The boss will dock my pay if I keep dancing with you.”
    “Those Gallagher lads are shameless,” Kathy Duffy told her as Jude cleared more glasses. “Bless them for it. A pair of good women would settle them down, but not so much they wouldn’t be interesting.”
    “Aidan’s married to the pub,” Kevin Duffy said as he lit a cigarette. “And Shawn to his music. It’ll be years yet before either of them’s taking on a wife.”
    “Nothing to stop a clever lass from trying, is there?” And Kathy winked at Jude.
    Jude managed a smile as she moved to another table. She managed to keep it in place as she took the orders. But her mind was whirling.
    Is that what people thought? she wondered. That she was trying to wrangle Aidan into marriage? Why it had never crossed her mind. Not seriously. Hardly at all.
    Did he think that was what she was aiming for?
    She stole a glance at him, watched him nimbly pulling pints as he talked to two of the Riley sisters. No, of course he didn’t. They were both just enjoying themselves. Enjoying each other. If the thought of marriage had crossed her mind, it was natural enough. But she hadn’t dwelled on it.
    The fact was, she didn’t want to. She’d been down that road and had been smeared on the pavement.
    Fun was better. The lack of commitment and expectations was liberating. They had mutual affection and respect, and if she was in love with him, well . . . that just made it all the more romantic.
    She wasn’t going to do anything to spoil it. In fact, she was going to do everything she could to enhance it, to squeeze every drop of pleasure out of the time she had.
    “When you come back from your trip there, Jude, I’ll have another pint before closing.”
    “Hmm?” Distracted, she looked down at the wide, patient face of Jack Brennan. “Oh, sorry.” She picked up his empty, then frowned at him.
    “I’m not pissed,” he promised. “My heart’s all mended. Fact is, I don’t know why I got in such a state over a woman. But if you’re worried, you can ask Aidan if I can stand another pint.”
    He was so sweet, she thought, and holding back on an urge to pat his head as she might that of a big, shaggy dog. “No urge to break his nose?”
    “Well, now, I’ll admit I’ve always half wanted to just because it’s never been managed. And he broke mine some time back.”
    “Aidan broke your nose?” It was appalling. It was fascinating.
    “Not on actual purpose,” Jack qualified. “We were fifteen and playing football and one thing led to another. Aidan’s never been much of a one for bloodying his mates unless . . .”
    “One thing leads to another?”
    “Aye.” Jack beamed at her. “And I don’t think he’s had himself a good mix-up in months. Due for one most like, but he’s too busy courting you to find time for a scuffle.”
    “He isn’t courting me.”
    Jack pursed his lips on an expression caught between concern and puzzlement. “Aren’t you sweet on him, then?”
    “I—” How did she answer that? “I like him very much. I’d better get you that pint. It’s nearly closing