by Jo McNally
“Just like home.” He grinned at her. “I feel like I created a monster by taking you to that place.”
“I kept thinking I wanted to change the Shamrock, but everyone expects it to be Irish.” She looked around the freshly painted dining room. The walls used to be dark green, but now they were a soft yellow—the color of straw thatch. The room was not only lighter, but also warmer and more inviting. “I never thought about leaning into its Irishness until you came along.” She went on tiptoe and kissed him. “I never thought about a lot of things until you came along.”
It was a big confession, but he didn’t seem fazed. He held the print off to the side and returned the kiss. “Glad to help, Bridg. It’s going to look brilliant.”
They hung the paintings she’d ordered, one over each booth. Pretty soon the new lights would be installed, with Celtic swirls in stained glass panels. There would be stained glass on the windows as well, each with a different Celtic design. Customers were already commenting on the fresh look of the place. Yes, it had cost some money, but the St. Patrick’s party she’d had to abandon when Mary went into labor turned out to be a huge success, so she had some cash on hand. And she’d been frugal with her purchases, like her grandmother taught her to do. If she could get the permits secured for the patio and have that done by summer, this pub might just start earning her a decent living. Enough to buy out her cousins, even.
“Where do you want this one?” Finn asked.
“Over that last booth in the back, where Nana likes to sit. I let her pick this print.”
He put the hanger on the wall and hung the picture. He turned back to her.
“How’s Maura? I haven’t seen her this week.”
Bridget smiled, and it felt good to combine a smile with conversations about Nana. “She’s doing better. And...” She stepped into his open arms. “I talked to her this morning, and the doctor said the tumor is shrinking.”
“Oh, babe, that’s amazing! I’m so glad for her. And you.” She burrowed into his hug, craving the warmth and security of it. Craving him. Then she remembered what else her grandmother said.
“But we do have a little problem.”
He pulled his head back to look down at her. “With Maura? What is it?”
She gripped his upper arm, where her favorite dragon tattoo was hiding under his shirt, right above the Celtic band on his bicep. Her fingers couldn’t help tracing the outline she’d memorized.
“I think she suspects something.”
“About her cancer?”
She smacked his arm. “No! About us. She’s starting to ask some very pointed questions about how we met and when I knew I was in love and...” She stopped, realizing what she’d just said. But once again, he didn’t seem to pick up on it. Finn may be a professor and researcher, but he didn’t pick up on subtle relationship clues very well. Or maybe Finn was firmly committed to staying casual. She’d stopped saying it so much, but he mentioned it almost daily. “Anyway, it feels like she has doubts about us. And now she’s invited us to a McKinnon family dinner.”
Finn frowned. “I’ve been to dinners at Maura’s.”
“No, I’m talking a full McKinnon family dinner. Everyone. And it can be intense. Especially if she’s trying to trip us up somehow.”
“Why would she do that? She’s seen us kissing and dancing and holding hands. It’s not like we’re suffering in each other’s company these days.” He gave her a playful wink.
That was no lie. Bridget was downright craving Finn’s company. No matter how close she was, she wanted to be closer. Even now, as she stood in the circle of his arms, she wanted to press closer up against him. She couldn’t get enough of him. Because she’d fallen in love. She swallowed hard, trying not to show her affection in her eyes. He’d been adamant that he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship. His ex-wife had hurt him badly, and Bridget understood. But her heart didn’t.
“Hey, there are the lovebirds!” Kareema walked into the pub and came to a dead stop, looking around the redecorated space. “Wow! This looks great, guys. What a difference!”
Finn released Bridget and turned to greet Kareema. She’d joined them at Bridget’s apartment for dinner last week, along with Evie and Mark Hudson. It had been a night of food, drinks and laughter over a wild game of Cards Against Humanity. All night, she’d watched Finn getting to know her friends, and her friends falling in love with him, just as she had. He’d said he wasn’t a party animal, but once he’d gotten to know everyone, he’d let down his guard and showed his sly humor and competitive side.
“I’m just the guy with the hammer,” he said to Kareema. “She’s the one with all the great ideas.”
“I’ve known how clever that fiancée of yours is for a long time, Finn. Once you guys are married, she’ll be showing you all of her craftiness, trust me.” She handed a small bag to Bridget. “Here’s that anti-cancer shirt you wanted me to pick up for your grandmother. I had to hunt to find one with the least amount of pink on it, but I think this one will do. The shirt is blue, with mostly yellow print. It says ‘Great Boobs are Worth Fighting For.’” Kareema smirked. “Can’t argue that.”
“Thanks, Kar. She saw them at that shop in Geneva a month ago but was so sick she never said anything to me until last week. This will make her day.”
“Anything for Maura,” Kareema answered. She patted Finn on the shoulder. “See you later, Indiana.” He rolled his eyes and laughed. They’d given him the nickname last week. He said he hated it, but Bridget thought he was kidding himself. He was liking the friends they were making. She watched him talking with Kareema and felt a pinch on her heart. When they ended this fake engagement—as Finn kept assuring her he’d do once he got tenure—it would be more than her who ended up hurt. It would hurt their friends, too.
He walked back to her after Kareema left. “What’s wrong, love? You look sad.” He swept her into his arms and swung her around, startling a laugh out of her. “There will be no sadness today, woman. Let’s get back to the house and get ready for this scary family dinner. And stop worrying so much. I’m a very good actor.”
And that was the problem. He was a good actor. And she wasn’t. She was falling in love. And she had a very strong feeling that he wasn’t.
He set her back on her feet with a big smile.
“We’ll be fine, babe.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ONCE AGAIN THE McKinnon home was bursting with people. All of Maura’s children and most of her grandchildren had come home for the baptism party for Mary and Simon’s new son, so every bedroom was filled, along with a few rooms at the Taggart Inn. Maura knew she was one of the reasons everyone had come home. People were worried. People wanted to see her, just in case. It sounded ghoulish, but it was practical, and she understood.
Some days, she wondered how long she’d be around. Or how long she wanted to be, on the days when she ached all over and threw up if she even thought about food.
But today was a good day. She was starting to have more of those. Her next treatment wasn’t for a few days yet, and she was starting to get her strength back from the last one. Not that she was ready to go run a marathon or anything, but she felt pretty good for a bald old woman with cancer. In fact, that’s exactly what she told Father Joe Brennan when he asked, making him laugh out loud.
“Well, Maura, my dear, you look pretty good for a bald old woman with cancer, too. And your sense of humor is intact, which is a blessing.” He gestured at the T-shirt she was wearing, and pulled up a chair next to her favorite resting spot downstairs—her beat-up old recliner lined with pillows and quilts. “And now you have a new wee grand babe to love, and a wedding to look forward to.”
She spotted Bridget and Finn across the room. They were standing close. His arm was on her shoulders. But there was worry in Bridget’s eyes whenever she glanced up at him. No one else would pick up on it, but Maura kn
ew this girl better than she knew herself.
“Yes, Joe, you’re right. But that engagement was so quick. Do you really think...?”
Joe laughed softly. “Maura, I know love when I see it, and those two have it. Sometimes it really does happen just that fast.”
“What’s happening fast?” Vickie and Cecile walked up to them. “Who are you...?” Cecile followed their gaze. “Ooh, those two. Yeah, that was interesting. I didn’t see those two together at all at the start, but boy, ever since St. Patrick’s Day, they’ve been hot and heavy, haven’t they?”
Maura nodded, unconvinced.
“Maybe. But there’s something. I just can’t put my finger on it. It’s like they’re not quite on the same page.”
Cecile pulled up a chair. “Do you want us to do some sleuthing? The book club’s read enough spy stories that we could be spies ourselves. What do you suspect?”
Vickie rolled her eyes. “We aren’t spies any more than we’re matchmakers.” But she looked from Maura across the room to Bridget and back. “But if you want us to see what’s really going on with those two, I’m sure we could try.” She frowned. “I’ll start with Rick. He knows Finn best, and he’s definitely been acting weird ever since the engagement became public. He didn’t even show up today, and I think it’s because he’s avoiding us.”
Maura listened as Vickie went on about Rick. Across the room, Bridget beamed up at Finn. As much as Maura liked the smooth-talking Irishman, she wasn’t about to let him hurt her granddaughter in any way.
* * *
FINN RODE HIS bike to work the next morning, soaking up the sunshine and smiling at the memory of how Bridget had woken him that morning, burrowing under the sheets and...um...surprising him out of a sound sleep. And he didn’t mind one little bit. He’d returned the favor, losing himself in the woman who’d so quickly become as much a part of him as his arm or leg. It was impossible to look into the future and not see her in it.
He waved at a few students as he entered the campus and found the bike rack, but his smile faded slightly. They’d fallen so fast for each other. Was Bridget a rebound? It didn’t feel that way, but how would he know the difference? He couldn’t help remembering that he’d been in love before, and had been convinced that he and Dori were forever-and-ever-amen. Until they weren’t. He’d misjudged her. He’d misjudged his own ability to know what was happening in his own house. In his marriage. In his friendships.
It wasn’t the same with Bridget, though. They’d been so open with each other. And when they were together, the whole world just felt...right. Aligned. Balanced. Proper. He liked her. He respected her. And who was he kidding? He loved her. He was in love with Bridget McKinnon, and every time he thought about it, he felt both a warm thrill and a shiver of fear. A shadow of doubt that wouldn’t leave him alone. It wasn’t her fault. This was all on him. The doubts would go away eventually. If he ignored them long enough.
“Nice helmet, Finnie.” Rick’s teasing voice broke through his thoughts. “Did you get that in the kid’s department at Wally World?” His friend folded his arms across his chest and nodded at the bicycle. “Since when did you start pedaling your ass all over town?”
“Oi, give me a break. It wouldn’t hurt you to get a little more exercise, old man.”
“And squish my family jewels on that little seat?” Rick shuddered. “I don’t think so.” He fell into step alongside Finn and they headed toward the annex where their offices were. “You’ve got a heck of a smile on your face these days. I take it this ‘fake’ relationship...” Rick made air quotes with his fingers “...is turning more real than anticipated? And can I say, I really hope so, because it would let me off the hook for keeping your secret safe from my best friends. If the lie becomes reality, there’s no secret to keep.”
Finn shrugged. “It’s definitely more than anticipated. I’m just not sure how real it is.” He halted, surprised at his own words. It was the first time he’d spoken his fear out loud.
“I’ve seen the eyes that girl gives you, and it looks about as real as can be.” Rick stepped ahead and opened the door for Finn. “Is this about what happened in Durham? Let me give you some advice.” He clapped Finn’s shoulder as they entered the building. “Never hold new relationships up to old ones. There are too many variables to make a fair comparison, and hindsight is never accurate. It’ll lead to nothin’ but trouble, my friend.”
He thought about that advice for the rest of the day. It was impossible for Finn to just forget what happened to his marriage, but it wasn’t fair to Bridget to hold her up to that disaster as some kind of mirror. She wasn’t Dori.
The students in his afternoon class had the typical April restlessness. It was a combination of anxiety over finals and excitement about graduation for the seniors, or looking forward to summer break for the rest. He barely managed to hang on to their attention as he discussed Brian Boru’s legacy in Ireland. Probably the only thing that saved him was venturing into a discussion of Boru’s three wives and some of their entanglements with other Irish kings. One of the students declared it sounded like Real Housewives of Munster, and the attention of the other kids perked up after that.
He was still smiling about it when he got home. That smile deepened when he saw Bridget walking around the pub to the small section of parking lot and snowy lawn behind the building. Last night they’d made love until almost dawn. They talked about dreams they had and dreams that had been dashed. They talked about the value or worthlessness of various social media platforms, and he flat-out refused to open an Insta account as the “Irish Professor,” despite her claims that his looks would automatically build a following.
“You said Greer wanted to pimp you out for the new history building. Becoming an influencer online would give him the attention he’s looking for!” She’d laughed as she said it, strolling naked from the kitchen to her bed with a plate of cheese, meat and crackers. He’d snatched the plate from her hand and tossed it on the nightstand, pulling her into bed with him and ending the debate by kissing every inch of her body. Slowly. Deeply. Worshipfully.
He watched her now, talking to Michael, her arms sweeping out toward the lake below as she tried to make her point. She was arguing for that outdoor patio again. The woman was always fighting for something. Always pushing to do more. Pushing the people around her. Pushing herself. Finn used to be like that. Motivated. Competitive.
Dori and Vince had broken that part of him. He thought it was gone for good. But Bridget was doing something to him. She was pulling him along with her, and giving him little glimmers of hope. Like...long-term hope. For the future. For them. Which made no sense. There was no them except at night between the sheets, and occasionally pretending in public to keep up the game of being engaged.
He got out of the car and slammed the door more firmly than he’d intended. He needed to remember that—that this was temporary. For show. Except the nights, of course. That was brilliantly real. Frighteningly real for him. Because he couldn’t afford to let himself hope again. He was bad at relationships, and if things got any more real, he’d have to seriously examine what they were doing and how clear his judgment was. He turned toward the house. Distancing himself now would probably be the smartest move. His foot hit the top step.
And he reversed course and started across the parking lot. They had time before he had to worry about that. And he couldn’t stay away from her. Not yet, anyway.
She flashed him a bright smile when he walked up to her and Mike. It was a smile that shot straight to his heart. He’d survived the family dinner she’d been so worried about, and seemed to have the McKinnon stamp of approval. Would they really have to stop? Would he be able to?
“Hey, Professor!” She gave him a quick kiss, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His arm wrapped around her waist and he tugged her closer, speaking against her mouth.
“Hey there, bar wench.�
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Bridget laughed and pinched his arm.
“Oi, such violence!” He rubbed his arm and stepped back, tugging her ponytail as he did.
Mike cleared his throat, gesturing between them. “I hate to interrupt whatever this is that I’ll never be able to unsee, but we have some business decisions to make.”
“I know...sorry.” Bridget winked at Finn before turning to her cousin. “I know it’s a lot of money, but if we can get the bank loan, I think we have to do it, right?”
Mike grimaced, staring at the ground and rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you really need another payment to make? You’ve got the house mortgage on top of promising to buy us out. And now you want to add another loan?”
“But this won’t be that much. The patio should pay for itself if we can get it built by the Fourth of July weekend. That’s the first big festival of the summer, and we can pack this place with tourists and locals by advertising the view of the fireworks both nights.”
Finn followed her gesture toward the back of the lot. She had a point—the pub was high enough above the town to have a clear line of sight to the college and the lakeshore below. He’d heard about the Americana Festival, with parades and fireworks on both July Third and July Fourth, set off from barges out on the water. He imagined a patio set up out here would put them at nearly eye level with the fireworks, which would be incredible.
Mike took in the view too, then shrugged.
“At least you’ll have two incomes now.”
“What?” Bridget’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.
Mike pointed at Finn. “You’ll have your husband to help. With the two incomes, you should be able to swing everything.” He grinned. “I hope you told your fiancé about the debt he’s taking on with you.”
Bridget’s cheeks went bright pink, and Finn rushed to answer, reaching out to take her hand as he did. His little fighter.