3 Seconds

by Bethany Lopez

  I watched as my brother tilted his head down, his beard brushing the top of Dec’s head before he touched his lips to his sleeping boy’s crown.

  “You know I love you and Brady more than life itself, but I can’t tell you the feeling that fills you up when you hold your baby for the first time. The miracle that you made with the woman you love.” Brock tipped his head back to the sky, a smile on his lips, before piercing me with eyes identical to my own. “It’s magical, and it’s humbling, and more than anything, I wish that for you, and for Brady.”

  “The thought scares the shit out of me,” I admitted softly.

  “I know it does, Bren, it scared the shit out of me too,” he said, surprising me. “But it’s worth the agony. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  I’d been searching my soul ever since I’d left his house, which was why my resolve was unwavering now.

  I knew what I wanted, and I was willing to bare my soul to get it.

  Nothing in life worth getting is easy, right? The harder it was to obtain, the closer to perfect you knew you were.

  I pushed the door open and looked around, my eyes adjusting to the change in light as I surveyed the pub. When I saw who I was looking for, I took a deep breath and headed to the bar.

  “Sir,” I prompted, suddenly nervous.

  The smaller man with a weathered face, bright-red hair, and a jolly smile, turned his attention from the glass he was cleaning and greeted me heartily, “Aye, lad, what can I get you?”

  Stop being a pussy, I chastised myself when I realized I was sweating. You’re great with people. They love you. You’re charming as shit … Now man up and speak your mind.

  “I was wondering if you had a minute,” I said, going for a sincere look on my face and hoping I didn’t look crazed. “I’d like to speak with you.”

  “Sure,” he responded, curious but still friendly. “How about we sit over there.”

  He pointed toward an empty table. I nodded my consent, took the seat nearest me, and waited for him to get settled.

  I held out my hand and introduced myself, “My name is Brendan O’Malley, sir, and I’m in love with your daughter.”

  The only surprise the older man showed was the widening of his eyes. I was relieved when he took my offered hand, rather than kicking me out of the pub.

  “O’Malley, huh? That’s a fine name you have there. I’m Patrick Callaghan, but my friends call my Paddy.” He eyed me carefully, but didn’t seem put off by the fact that I was obviously young. I was dressed in dark slacks and a black button-up shirt, my hair pulled back into a ponytail and my face cleanly shaven, but there was no denying that I was who I was. “Now, then, young Brendan, how do you know my Bronagh?”

  “Well, sir…” I began.

  “Paddy,” he said, cutting me off.

  “Sorry, Paddy,” I amended, clasping my hands together in my lap as I prayed he’d think I was good enough for his daughter. “I’m in a band with my brothers, and Bronagh came to one of our shows. That’s how we met initially, but it turned out that she was also my instructor at the culinary school.” When he simply raised an eyebrow, I sputtered on, hoping he wouldn’t linger on that fact. “I’ve graduated now … I’m a chef, and a lead singer. My band has just been signed with a record label, and I’m looking for a job in a kitchen now. I’m a reliable and responsible man…”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, lad, but Bronagh’s not mentioned you to me, and although I only arrived back home in the last few days, I’ve spent most of my waking hours with my girl.” He looked sorry to be relaying this news to me, but I wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t mentioned me. She’d said quite clearly that she was done, and it looked like she meant it.

  “Unfortunately, your daughter broke it off with me,” I admitted, embarrassed and hoping I didn’t come off like a desperate ass, even though I kind of was… “I told her that I wasn’t interested in kids, which was the beginning of the end of our relationship. But, sir … Paddy, being a young, less mature, and I hate to say it, but sometimes stupid, man, I spoke off the cuff, without thinking about the consequences of those words. After a few weeks of soul-searching, and too many heart-to-heart talks with family and friends, I’ve realized that my perceived lack of desire for children was just ignorance.”

  “Have you spoken of this to Bronagh?” he asked kindly.

  “I’m afraid your daughter is stubborn…”

  Paddy laughed at that, a deep hearty sound that caused those around us to smile.

  “That she is, boy … Takes after her mother that way.”

  I chuckled along with him.

  “So she hasn’t been receptive when I’ve tried to rekindle things. She thinks because I’m young and my career is just taking off, that I shouldn’t be tied down and that I should experience these new things without her, but that’s not what I want … Yes, exciting things are happening in my life right now, but without her to share them with, they don’t mean as much. I love your daughter. I want to marry her, and spend the rest of my life proving that I’m worthy of her love.”

  “What do you need from me, Brendan O’Malley?” Paddy asked, causing the trepidation to fade.

  I leaned in and told him exactly how he could help.

  Chapter Thirty ~ Bronagh

  It felt great to be working a shift with my Da again. He’d had a wonderful time back in Ireland, but seemed to be happy to be back home and behind his bar again. I’d been teasing him because his brogue was always really strong after a visit to his homeland, but I actually loved listening to the lilt of his accent.

  “Hey, Da,” I called as I walked through the kitchen toward the office we shared. “I saw Heather setting up the stage out there, did you schedule someone for tonight?”

  We often offered live music on weekends, usually a pianist or Irish folk singer, but most acts were booked through me, and I knew I hadn’t booked a show for that night.

  “Aye, dear, did I forget to tell you?” he responded, his face the picture of innocence when I entered the room.

  This made me instantly suspicious. My da’s face was often full of expression … Joy, excitement, tenderness, but innocent? Not likely.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips.

  “Now don’t go getting yourself into a tither, dear, it’s nothing but a bit of entertainment on a Saturday night. The guests will love it and we’ll be pouring pints until the doors close.”

  He stood and rounded the desk, then said something about checking the kegs as he hurried out the door.

  His words were true enough, we always had a full house when there was live music in the pub, but his reaction did nothing to ease the suspicion in my belly.

  Oh well, I thought, whatever he’s up to will be found out soon enough, I might as well go make sure we have plenty of Jameson on hand.

  I was pulling bottles from storage and making sure the bar was stocked. We had plenty of hands in the kitchen today, so I was going to spend most of my time in the front of the house. Sometimes it paid to let the staff take control. It showed that I trusted them, and didn’t feel the need to hover over them in the kitchen all the time. Plus, working front of the house would give me more time to spend with my da, who I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed until he’d held me in his arms after his long trip home.

  I didn’t tell him about Brendan. I was worried that he’d be disappointed, which was silly, but I already had one failed relationship under my belt, and I didn’t relish him knowing that I’d let another man in, only to be left heartbroken again. So I hadn’t said anything, yet, but I knew I would soon. Not only because I didn’t keep secrets from my da, but because I was hoping that at least one person would tell me I’d made the right decision.

  Even though I thought I made the right choice, that didn’t stop me from thinking about Brendan every second of the day. I wondered what he was doing right now … Was Whiskey Heat playing, or had he already left for New York?

  I sighe
d as I pushed the door that led back out to the bar. I needed to let him go…

  The strumming of an acoustic guitar had my head lifting and searching out the stage. The sight of Brendan sitting on my stage, alone, guitar in hand, had me stopping in my tracks.

  Dark jeans, black boots, a tank top, and a beanie on his head, he looked like everything I wanted but couldn’t have. Like a snake in a cage, while a mouse was running around free.

  Maybe that was a weird analogy … Am I the snake or the mouse?

  He looked like a perfectly poured pint of Guinness, all dark and delicious, and my heart pounded as I wondered how he’d ended up on my stage.

  “Thanks for coming out,” he was saying to the crowd, his voice rolling over me like velvet. “I’m honored to be at Callaghan’s tonight. Most of you don’t know, but the woman I love owns this pub…”

  Blood was suddenly thundering in my ears.

  Holy crap! Had he just told the whole bar that he loved me?

  “She doesn’t think we’re good for each other, but I’m hear to try and convince her otherwise … I may need your help with that, is that all right?” he asked, and the crowd started to cheer. Who didn’t love the prospect of bringing two lovers together? I wanted to kill him for putting me in this position, but at the same time, I was dying to hear what he’d say next.

  I stood still as a statue, a bottle of Maker’s Mark hugged tightly to my chest.

  “This is a song I wrote for her, and hopefully she’ll take the words to heart. For Bronagh,” he said, and I swear every eye in the house turned to me as he began to strum the guitar.

  I vaguely noticed that Ming and Cass were in the audience, along with Brendan’s brothers, sister-in-law, and friends. The cute one I remembered as TJ had his fingers to his lips, whistling his encouragement loudly.

  Never in my life have I been so sure

  The way you move me, thrill me

  You bring me to my knees

  I’m more of a man with you around

  My love shines as bright as your smile,

  As smooth as your skin,

  As deep as the valley of your charm

  And I never want to live without you

  I have no future unless you’re in it

  No songs to sing,

  No love to share

  I miss the brush of your lips.

  The feather-soft caress of your hair,

  And the feel of your joy crashing through me

  I’m more of a man with you around

  My love shines as bright as your smile,

  As smooth as your skin

  As deep as the valley of your charm

  And I never want to live without you

  You’ve opened my eyes to possibilities I never considered

  And I’ll spend my days striving to fulfill your every wish,

  As I worship each freckle that decorates you

  My Irish beauty, my only love, come back to me

  I barely registered the tears running down my face, until my father’s weathered hand brushed them from my cheek.

  “Go to him, Bronagh,” my da said softly. “It’s obvious you love each other.”

  I began to move slowly, people parting as if choreographed as I walked toward the stage.

  Unable to contain myself, even though he was still strumming, I shouted out my fears.

  “I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

  His fingers stilled on the strings and his eyes hit mine.

  “I won’t.”

  “I don’t want you to wake up one day and regret giving in to my desires, rather than following your own.”

  “It’ll never happen, Freckles, my desires are your desires.”

  He placed the guitar on the floor next to him, propped up against the chair, and I moved closer, as if being pulled by a string.

  “You have so many opportunities available to you … Paris, New York … You shouldn’t give all that up for me.”

  “Those places are meaningless without you.”

  Brendan got to his feet and moved the mic stand off to the side, then jumped down off the stage and stood before me.

  He was saying all the right things, but, “I want kids.”

  He reached out and caressed my cheek.

  “I want our kids.”

  A small laugh escaped as I sobbed with joy.

  “I love you.”

  Brendan pulled me to him so swiftly that I swayed slightly, then his lips were a breath away from mine. My heart stopped and he replied, “I love you, too, Bronagh. The only thing I need in this world … is you.”

  One….

  Two…

  Three…

  That’s how long it took before my heart started beating again. The crowd cheered loudly around us as his lips crashed down to mine, and we wrapped ourselves around each other.

  Chapter Thirty-One ~ Brendan

  I tried to sit still, but my leg kept bouncing as anticipation rolled through me. Bronagh placed her hand softly on my thigh, causing me to settle, and I looked to my left to see Brock grinning down at me. Victoria sat next to him, her small hand cradled in his large one.

  I grinned back at my brother, then turned my attention back to the stage.

  “Brady O’Malley,” the emcee called out, signaling it was time for my brother to cross the stage.

  After twenty weeks of training, my brother was finally graduating from the police academy, and I couldn’t be more proud.

  I fought the urge to stand up and cause a ruckus, knowing that it would just embarrass and piss off my older brother, but that didn’t stop me from clapping and whistling as he walked.

  He didn’t smile, but he strode purposefully, posture erect and proud, and I knew he was feeling happy as shit, and thankful that the rigorous training was over. We’d only been able to get together every few weeks, since he was so busy with training, and I was busy getting my life together, but he’d filled me in on some of the shit the academy threw at him, so I knew it was no small feat for him to be graduating today.

  We sat through graduation, then annoyed Brady further by making him take pictures with us in his snazzy new uniform. We were having a party at mine and Bronagh’s place that afternoon, with everyone in attendance.

  “C’mon, just wear the uniform to the party, give everyone a little thrill,” Brock was saying to our brother, half serious, and half busting his balls.

  “Not gonna happen,” Brady said wryly. “I’ll stop at my house and change, and then be over. It won’t take long, I promise.” This he said to Bronagh, and I knew it was because he didn’t want to piss off my new wife.

  She’d told me about the conversation they’d had after she’d broken things off with me, and although we both knew his heart was in the right place, he was still worried that she hadn’t forgiven him for coming down on her so hard.

  He’d been trying to make it up to her since she’d finally taken me back that night at the pub. Now that she was part of the family, he looked after her with the same pit-bull mentality he looked after all of us. No one messed with his family, and he wanted to make sure she knew he would do anything for her.

  Bronagh knew, and had grown closer to him over the past eight months, but I still enjoyed seeing him sweat.

  “All right, party-pooper,” I said, ribbing him a little. “We’ll see you at the house.”

  A couple weeks after Bronagh and I had gotten back together, I moved out of my loft and into her house. It was a much bigger space, and she loved it there, so it only made sense that we would make our home there. At least for now.

  Once she’d finally believed I wanted only her, I hadn’t wanted to wait to get married, so our engagement had been very short. Since she’d already had a big wedding with Maxime, we had a small ceremony with our family and friends one afternoon by the lake. It was simple and beautiful. Her da had walked her down the aisle, and Brock and Brady had been my best men, while Ming and Cass shared maid of honor duties.

  As we fini
shed up the final touches of the dishes we’d prepared in our fantastic kitchen, I pulled my beautiful wife in for a deep kiss.

  “Mmmmm,” she murmured against my lips, nibbling lightly before pulling back to look up at me.

  “That’s a promise of what’s to come later,” I said, running the tip of my finger along her nose, following the pattern of her freckles. “We’ve got a baby to make, after all.”

  Bronagh flushed with pleasure, and I knew it was partly at the thought of getting pregnant, but mostly because she was thinking about all the things we would do to each other later.

  My wife was a fucking sex addict, and I loved every second of it.

  The doorbell rang, and our friends began to arrive. Everyone came out to celebrate Brady’s latest accomplishment, and I loved the fact that our home was filled with the laughter of children, love of family, and comfort of great friends.

  I noticed Ming watching Brady, who was too busy watching Natalie to notice Bronagh’s best friend’s stare.

  Natalie had finally left her loser husband, and was in the process of getting a divorce. She was back at Jake’s and getting on her feet, but still looked like a scared rabbit most of the time. I knew by looking at her that she’d bring out the protective side of my brother, but the way Ming was clocking his movements made me curious. I’d have to ask Bronagh about that later.

  Later that evening, as I was sitting out on the porch, sharing a beer with my brother’s I turned to Brock and said, “Thanks.”

  “For what?” he asked casually as he leaned back into the cushions, his long legs stretched out before him.

  “For always being there. For making all of this possible for us.” I gestured around the yard, then waved my hand between Brady and I. “You’re the best role model a guy could have, and you supported us in all things, and kicked us in the ass when we needed it.”

  Brock was silent, and I could tell my words had affected him and he was trying to maintain his composure.