He smiled at the understatement. She’d been a tyrant, no question about it. “I can see how that might happen,” he said. “It’s a wonder I looked beyond it myself.”
“It’s what drew you to me,” she corrected. “You’d never had such a challenge before. You said so yourself.” A cloud passed over her face. “Am I too easy now, do you suppose?”
“Absolutely not,” he said, drawing her face down so he could kiss her thoroughly. “I wish I could stay right here with you,” he murmured with regret.
“But you have work to do and miles to go before you sleep,” she said.
He regarded her with surprise. “Robert Frost?”
She laughed at his amazement. “I’m not entirely uneducated, you know.”
“Of course not. I just wasn’t sure your Irish schools would be teaching American poets.”
“Have you studied Shakespeare?” she inquired tartly.
“To my everlasting regret, yes.”
She smiled. “Well, there you go. Literature travels, Luke.”
“For better or worse,” he mumbled as he climbed from the bed.
“Oh, I don’t know. Another look at The Taming of the Shrew might serve you well,” she teased. “Some say it could have been written about me.”
He laughed, but then thought he detected a hint of worry beneath the taunting words. He went back to the bed. “You won’t be too much for me, Moira, mood swings and all.”
She smiled slowly. “Good to know, since turning into a saint overnight could be beyond me.”
He showered and dressed, then took a lingering look at her, still tangled in his sheets, several delectable curves bare. “Will you be here when I get back?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “I’ll need to get back to your grandmother’s. I don’t want to be rude by staying out all night on my second night here.”
“I could call and let her know you have plans,” he suggested. “That you’re with me. Believe me, she’ll understand.” He was struck by a thought. “Or is it Dillon you’re worried about?”
“No, I imagine he’d understand as well. It’s me, to be honest. It’s different being with you here, Luke.”
He frowned at that. “How so?”
“More serious, somehow. In Ireland, we were mostly on neutral turf as we traveled. This is your world. I’m scared to discover if I’ll truly fit in or if you’ll even want me to, especially now.”
“Why now?”
“Because there are jobs waiting for me back home, photography assignments that could actually lead to a real career. It’s my first chance to be successful at something entirely on my own.” She held his gaze. “You of all people know how much that matters, how much dedication is required.”
Despite his own sense that the timing for them was off, he was taken aback by her unexpected eagerness to get home to Dublin. And yet how could he not understand the draw of a newly discovered passion?
He sat beside her on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know what the future holds for us, Moira. I do know you’re important to me.” He studied her. “Can that be enough for now? Can we figure this out as we go? What I do know is that when the time comes for you to go—as you planned—I know I’ll regret it.”
“But will you want me to stay?”
“Can you honestly tell me you’d want to?” he replied. “Weren’t you the one just saying how much awaits you back home?”
His attempt to turn the tables on her clearly backfired, because she turned away and began gathering her clothes.
She finally turned to face him. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want you to fight to keep me here,” she said in a contrary tone.
He might have laughed, but it was obvious she couldn’t see the humor in the standoff. She was staring hard at him, her frustration plain.
“It’s easy enough to say how much you care when you’ve just climbed from this bed,” she grumbled. “But even I know it doesn’t guarantee a future. We obviously need time to figure things out.”
“We only have a month,” he said, his own frustration mounting. “Let’s not waste it being at odds over things we can’t control.”
“We had only a few weeks in Ireland,” she reminded him. “A month seems like an eternity stretching out ahead of us.”
“Not to me,” he admitted. Though he wasn’t yet ready to admit it to her or even to himself, he was beginning to wonder if even forever might not be enough. He also knew he needed to figure it out, because right at this moment, his mixed signals could easily drive her straight back to that fledgling career awaiting her in Dublin. After that, it could well be too late.
When he got back to the pub, Luke found both his brother and his uncle there waiting for him, and looking unhappy.
“Where the devil have you been?” Matthew demanded. “I thought this was meant to be a rush job, but if you can’t even stick around, why should Mick’s crew be putting in overtime?”
Luke winced. “Was there a problem? Everything seemed to be under control when I left. It’s not as if I’m doing the construction myself or even know that much about it. The two of you are in charge of that.”
“You still should have been here,” Matthew grumbled stubbornly.
Luke turned to his uncle. “I suppose you share my brother’s opinion that I’ve been lax by taking a couple of hours off.”
Mick chuckled. “Actually, I’m more curious about what was so important that it took you away from here. I’m guessing it was Moira.”
Matthew looked startled for a moment, then stared hard at Luke. “Was that it? Did you go off with impossible Moira?”
“Stop calling her that!” Luke told him heatedly.
“How many times have you called her that very thing yourself?” Matthew asked.
“It’s not the same when I say it,” Luke said, even though he knew he probably sounded ridiculous. What else could he add—that he said it with love? Not likely. “Now, has there been a crisis here while I was gone or not?”
“Oh, don’t mind your brother,” Mick said. “Now that he’s happily married to Laila, he’s forgotten what it’s like to court a woman. And, as I learned way too late, it doesn’t hurt to keep your priorities in order and pay proper attention to someone you care about.”
Luke gave his brother a closer look. “Have you forgotten what it’s like to be in love so soon, Matthew, or is there trouble in paradise?” he speculated. “Is that it? Are you and Laila fighting over something? Shouldn’t you still be in the honeymoon phase?”
“Even in the honeymoon phase, people have things to work out,” Matthew said tightly. “And I do not intend to discuss my relationship with my wife with the two of you.”
Luke exchanged a look with his uncle, but wisely kept silent.
It was Mick whose teasing quickly turned to visible concern. “If not us, who else should you turn to? We love both of you.”
“Not talking about this,” Matthew said. “I just came by to see if the bar had been delivered and if it fit into the snug space we’d left for it. I thought that was a priority.”
Stunned by the reminder, Luke whirled around and looked behind him. How the devil could he have forgotten about the bar being delivered? Well, he knew how: Moira. He looked at the huge mahogany bar with its shiny brass trim, polished wood and detailed carving and couldn’t seem to stop the smile that spread across his face.
“My God, it’s perfect!” he murmured. “Suddenly I have a genuine Irish pub.”
“You do, indeed,” Mick said, his approval plain.
“And it’s the perfect size,” Luke added. “See, Matthew, all your worrying was for nothing.”
“Not for nothing,” Matthew retorted. “I had to shave off the doorjamb to the office and the m
olding on the floor to slide it in there. Don’t ever get any ideas about moving it.”
“Why would I? It’s in the perfect spot.” Luke moved closer to inspect it. “And not a mark on it. It’s none the worse for the trip. Even the mirror survived without the faintest crack. What do you really think, Matthew? Put aside your annoyance with me and tell the truth.”
“It looks as if it’s always been meant to be there,” his brother admitted grudgingly. “Mick’s right. It’s turned it into a genuine pub. Whatever else you do in here will only complement that.”
Luke could hardly wait to show it off. It made him even more anxious for opening night. He faced his uncle. “Are we on schedule?”
“The electrician will be here tomorrow. The final touches on the molding and painting will be done by the weekend, and then it’ll be all yours to finish up.”
“That quickly?” Luke asked, barely able to contain his excitement…and his nerves.
“We’ve a deadline to meet, don’t we?” Mick said. “Word’s already out that you’re opening to the public three weeks from Friday. It’s a shame we didn’t start all this in time for a St. Patrick’s Day launch, but having it ready before Memorial Day weekend will do. It’ll get a buzz going among the locals before all the summer people and tourists descend. Have you thought of creating discount coupons for the guests at Jess’s inn? She mentioned the idea to me earlier today.”
“A great idea,” Luke enthused. “I’ll see if Trace can design something. He was asking if I wanted him to do ads for me for Mack’s paper, so he can work on those at the same time.”
“And having the whole family involved is another smart plan,” Mick said approvingly. “O’Briens are never happier than when we have a chance to help out one of our own.”
“To say nothing of the fact that even if we’re the only ones to show up for the private grand opening for family and community leaders on that Thursday night, you’ll have quite a mob,” Matthew said.
The offhand comment set off panic. “Why would you be the only ones to show up? What did you mean by that?”
His brother clapped him on the back. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. It was just a comment to serve you right after you snuck out of here in the middle of the day.”
“Well, it wasn’t funny,” Luke said. “I’m nervous enough about this as it is.” So much depended on the pub’s success, not just the self-respect he craved, but the approval of his family, which sometimes mattered even more.
“Chalk it up to my overall mood,” Matthew said. He sighed. “Now I’d better head on home and face the music.”
“What music would that be?” Mick inquired, always quick to seize on an opening.
Matthew actually laughed at the not-unexpected question. “Do you never tire of meddling?”
“Not once,” Mick said without apology. “In this family, it’s called caring.”
“Trust me, more of us call it annoying,” Matthew said, and walked out before the discussion could be prolonged.
Luke glanced at his uncle and saw that there was genuine concern on Mick’s face.
“Whatever it is, he and Laila will work it out,” Luke told Mick. “Let it be.”
Mick sighed. “I suppose you’re right. He warned me away emphatically enough. Even I can take a hint.” He gave Luke’s shoulder a squeeze. “Stop worrying. You’re going to have a hit with this place. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Uncle Mick.”
But as his uncle left, Luke couldn’t help wishing that those words had come from his father.
Moira straightened up Luke’s bed and the apartment before heading back to Nell’s cottage after her nap. The walk revived her, but she knew it was being with Luke that had put the color in her cheeks and the spring in her step. Since she wasn’t entirely sure how she herself felt about the afternoon’s events, she hoped neither Nell nor her grandfather were good at seeing through the sedate demeanor she intended to project.
“And what have you been doing this afternoon?” Nell inquired when she walked into the kitchen.
Moira immediately felt the quick rise of heat to her face and knew Nell had seen it as well, since she promptly chuckled.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked,” Nell said. “I hope you’re hungry. I’ve made chicken and dumplings. It’s Luke’s favorite. I spoke to him earlier. He’ll be over as soon as he can get away from the pub.” She gave Moira an expectant look. “Would you like me to teach you the recipe?”
Moira saw Nell’s strategy. She was trying to guess whether Moira would have a need for knowing Luke’s favorite foods.
“I’m always eager to learn a new recipe. I can try it out on the customers at McDonough’s when I get back home.”
Nell frowned at that. “Or you could try it out on the customers at O’Briens right here in Chesapeake Shores,” she suggested.
Moira immediately shook her head. “This is Luke’s business venture. I’m not a real part of it.”
“That’s not how it seemed to me earlier today. He was taking your advice on the music to heart, and he listened to you when you told him he should serve on different dishes.”
“That suggestion came from you as well,” Moira said. “And we all agreed on the best band.”
Obviously sensing that Moira was vaguely out of sorts, Nell pointed to the table. “Sit.”
“I was thinking of a shower before dinner,” Moira protested.
“And you’ll have time for it. First, I want to understand what’s made you feel as if you’re an outsider. Did you and Luke argue this afternoon? I had the impression when you came in that quite the opposite was the case.”
Filled with reluctance, Moira sat as she’d been told to do. She knew her grandfather would consider it rude to do otherwise, even though she truly didn’t want to have this conversation with Luke’s grandmother.
Nell poured her a cup of tea, then offered Moira cookies. “Conversation goes best with something sweet, I think,” she said.
Moira accepted an oatmeal raisin cookie, then proceeded to reduce it to crumbs on the napkin in front of her. Nell gave her an amused look.
“It works better if you actually eat it,” she commented.
Moira glanced at the pile of crumbs, winced and then tried to force a smile. “Sorry.”
“What did Luke do or say that upset you?”
Moira regarded her with surprise. “You think he’s at fault?”
“My grandson is a wonderful young man. He has many fine qualities. Sensitivity is not always among them. He can be careless with feelings, though it’s always unintentional. He cares for you, Moira. I know he does.”
“I know it as well,” she admitted. “I’m just not sure it’s enough.”
“Enough for what? A future?”
Moira nodded. “He was very clear earlier that he’s already anticipating the end of my visit.”
Nell looked dubious. “Really? Or was he only being realistic about the fact that you came for a monthlong vacation and hold a return ticket home? That’s not quite the same thing, is it?”
Moira thought about the distinction, then nodded slowly. “The latter probably.” She sighed. “I never realized how hard it would be to figure out how to blend two lives when the people come from places that are far apart. Who gets to decide?”
“The decision has to be mutual,” Nell said at once. “Did you have some idea that Luke would move to Dublin?”
“No. I’ve known from the beginning that his heart is here. And, to be honest, I had no real ties there myself, but then, right before I left, this opportunity came along. The part of me that’s never had any real sense of what I might accomplish wants to go back and see how things turn out.”
“That’s fair enough,” Nell said. “You’re
talking about your photography, of course. Dillon’s told me about it. I’d love to see some of the pictures you’ve taken. I assume you brought your camera along for this trip.”
Moira nodded, thinking of it packed away in her room. She’d been half-afraid to take it out. What if she took photos here and they were terrible? What if they were proof that those back home had been flukes? She’d be embarrassed in front of people she wanted desperately to impress.
Nell regarded her with understanding, almost as if she’d been inside Moira’s head. “Have you taken any pictures here yet?”
“No.”
“Is there a reason for that?” Nell prodded.
Moira thought about it some more before answering. Had she been afraid that here, among all these successful people, her photos would seem amateurish, that the O’Briens would look on her picture-taking as a hobby and nothing more? The idea was ridiculous, really. The O’Briens might be boisterous and outspoken, but they were never cruel. Just look at how they were encouraging Luke in his new venture!
“I think I didn’t want my confidence shaken,” she admitted eventually. “This idea is still new to me.”
“Do I understand correctly that you want to take pictures of weddings, baby showers and things like that?” Nell asked.
Moira nodded.
“Then you’ll need to get used to people’s reactions, won’t you? Art—and it is art you’ll be doing—is subjective.” She patted Moira’s hand. “Get your camera out of your bag and start taking pictures whenever you’ve the chance. I think you should plan to be the official photographer for the pub’s opening as well.”
Though she loved the idea of capturing that night’s festivities for Luke, Moira wondered if it was wise. Wouldn’t it be yet another reminder that she had a life back home to return to? How were they supposed to figure out a future for themselves, if it seemed as if it had already been decided that they’d live apart?
Nell studied her with an understanding expression. “Do you know what I’ve told my sons and now my grandchildren? If there’s something in their life they’re passionate about, and someone in their life who truly matters, they need to find a way to balance the two. You and Luke will find a way to do that. I believe that with all my heart.”
The Summer Garden Page 11