by Mari Carr
Padraig leaned back on the couch and took a sip of beer, letting that response sink in. “You’re putting the pieces together wrong.”
Ryder frowned. “What?”
“You’re envisioning your future with Darcy based on old information. You’re setting her up with the old Ryder in your mind. You need to start looking at Darcy’s relationship with this new Ryder. Ryder 2.0.”
He laughed. “Ryder 2.0?”
“Yeah. The upgrade. You’ve got a decade’s worth of experience—and what looks a hell of a lot like regret—under your belt. You’re not the same guy Denise married. Not even close. Take what you know about yourself now and put that man with Darcy. Let’s say you start dating, that you and Darcy get married. Does Ryder 2.0 still work all the damn time?”
Ryder shook his head. “No. I…wouldn’t be able to wait to get home to her. Which is crazy when you consider we work in the same office.”
“That’s right. You do. What’s work look like?”
Ryder grinned. “We’d take our lunch break together every day. I’d stop by her desk a couple dozen times a day to steal a quick kiss or just to see her.”
“And when you’re home? You zoned out?”
“It’s hard to be zoned out around Darcy. She’s got the Collins gift for gab.”
Padraig chuckled. “Yeah. But that’s her talking. What about you? You distant?”
“No. I tell Darcy everything. Can’t seem to stop myself.”
“Are you in love with my cousin?” Padraig asked.
Ryder’s answer was instantaneous. “So much I can’t fucking see straight.”
“Do you trust her?”
Again, Ryder didn’t hesitate to respond. He nodded, realizing that trust was the bigger-ticket item in his mind. Loving Darcy was easy. Hell, he’d probably fallen for her on that damn elevator at Halloween.
It was the trust that had been hard to give, to acknowledge because there was a lot of fear attached to that. Fear of setting himself up for heartache, of being hurt again, of losing Darcy.
Then he realized those fears weren’t there anymore because he did trust her. Darcy wasn’t Denise and she would never cheat, lie…leave.
“Yeah. I do. Completely.”
“You and that Ron guy… You aren’t strangers.”
One of the reasons Padraig was a great bartender was because he was observant, a quick study when it came to people. Ryder had already noticed that about the other man, but it had also been pointed out by Yvonne and Leo and Darcy over the years.
“I know him. His daughter and my son, Clint, are in the same grade. They’ve been in classes together for years.”
“Why did you punch him?”
Ryder swallowed heavily. For four years, he’d carried around this secret, and it had eaten away at him like cancer. Telling Darcy had started him on the road to recovery. He didn’t want to go back to the man he’d been before that power outage.
“Ron and Denise had an affair. The day she was killed, she was leaving me to run off with him.”
Padraig was quiet for a long moment. “Fuck. Didn’t see that coming. I thought maybe he just owed you money.”
Ryder laughed, grateful for Padraig’s joke, for his attempt at lightening the tension with humor, even though his chest ached. “I found out she was leaving me the day she died. I didn’t realize the other man was Ron until a few months after that.”
“And you never confronted him? Not until last night?”
“Ryder 1.0 wasn’t exactly the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. He played his cards close to his chest, never let anyone get too close. Safer that way.”
“Safer. But a lot lonelier.”
Ryder lifted one shoulder casually. “Yeah. It is. I loved Denise, but I wasn’t in love with her. It wasn’t the sort of passionate, all-consuming love that makes men compose symphonies, fight wars, or…punch out the other man. Besides, once I had the name… Oliver was right. Ron’s a good guy.”
Padraig scowled. “Good guys don’t sleep with other men’s wives.”
Ryder held his hand up. “Fair enough. You’re right. You’re absolutely right. They don’t. But…I think he made her happy. I didn’t.” Ryder had seen a lightness in Denise those last few months before she’d died. Heard her singing in the kitchen, noticed she smiled more. He hadn’t been the one to make her feel that way. Ron had.
“So you didn’t punch him because of Denise?”
“No. I didn’t. I saw him standing next to Darcy and…” Ryder ran his hand through his hair, the anger and frustration of last night returning to him in a rush. “Fuck, man. I saw red. She’s mine. Darcy’s mine. I just… Shit. I can’t hurt her. I can’t let her down. I can’t do that.”
“Then you won’t.” Padraig gave him a comforting grin. “It sounds to me like Ryder 2.0 is the kind of guy who does write symphonies and fight wars. And we know he punches out the other guy.”
Ryder smiled…and the light went on. “Yeah. He does.”
Darcy walked into the pub shortly before the dinner rush, ready to end this day the way she’d started it. Curled up in a ball in her bed, crying her heart out. She would actually still be there if Sunnie hadn’t shown up just after lunch and dragged her miserable ass out to a salon for mani/pedis and haircuts. Darcy had been perfectly happy in her oversized flannel pajamas and messy bun, and she’d figured there wasn’t enough makeup in the world to cover her puffy eyes.
But no amount of resistance would sway her sister, who said they were going to let the women at the salon work on the outside while the two of them worked on the inside.
She’d appreciated Sunnie’s efforts, grateful to her sister for letting her pour her heart out, allowing her to talk it all through. Dad had told her she had to be patient last night, something she sucked at, and she’d honestly expected Sunnie to countermand Dad’s suggestion, to tell her to forge on. Actually, Darcy had been counting on that.
Instead, Sunnie agreed with Dad. Insisted that Darcy wait for Ryder to come to her. Something that was easier said than done, though Sunnie was convinced Darcy wouldn’t have to wait long. She wished she had her sister’s confidence, but Sunnie hadn’t been there last night.
Hadn’t seen Ryder’s face.
Yvonne had shown up at the salon just as she and Sunnie were finished and dragged Darcy shopping. Darcy had been less resistant to her invitation, hoping for some kernel of information about Ryder’s state of mind. Unfortunately, Yvonne hadn’t seen Ryder since the incident at the pub. She’d fallen asleep early with the baby, and she and Leo and the boys had gone to brunch before Ryder had come out of his bedroom that morning.
They’d gone to a couple high-end boutiques, and Yvonne had even convinced her to buy a new dress, one that she’d actually worn out of the shop because Yvonne insisted that her outfit needed to match her hair and makeup.
Darcy had felt like an idiot, but she’d gone along with it because it seemed like the quickest and easiest way to get back home to her bed.
Darcy pulled out her cell and glanced at the screen for the four-millionth time today. No text. No missed calls.
Figures.
“All dressed up and nowhere to go,” she muttered under her breath.
She glanced over and caught sight of Mom and Dad standing in the doorway between the pub and Sunday’s Side. She was hoping they’d let her pass by without wanting to chat. Her bed was calling. Mercifully, they just waved and continued talking to each other.
That was when she spotted her brother, Finn, with Layla, Miguel, and Oliver, sharing a couple pitchers in a corner booth, all looking in her direction and smiling.
Dammit. Ryder was right. She had too much family. And the thirty-five steps from the front door of the pub to her apartment were going to be too many for her to make a clean escape.
“There’s my pretty lass. Come keep an old man company.”
Darcy glanced over to the bar and attempted a smile, one that went wobbly really quickly when she saw her Pop Pop pat the stool
next to his.
She wiped away an errant tear as she approached and sat down, fighting hard to swallow down her sadness. Of course her grandfather didn’t miss it, so he had his handkerchief out, ready for her.
“Dry those eyes, lovely girl. It would be a shame to mess up that fancy makeup.”
Darcy took it and blotted her face carefully, though it didn’t matter if she did mess it up. The only place she was going was to bed.
“Wine, Darc?” Padraig asked, walking over to them.
She shook her head. “Not tonight. I’ll make some tea when I get upstairs.”
Padraig reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
She appreciated the comforting words, but she wasn’t feeling as certain as he and Sunnie.
“I heard about last night,” Pop Pop confessed.
“Yeah. I’ve had better nights.”
“I have a very good feeling everything will turn out okay. Jealousy isn’t a weak emotion.”
“Dad said the same thing. It’s just…he’s it for me, Pop Pop. The Collins curse took me down at twenty. I’m trying to be patient, trying to give him time to…”
“To?” Pop Pop prompted.
Before Darcy could reply, a deep voice behind them answered the question for her.
“To get his head screwed on straight.”
Darcy twisted around on the stool and came face-to-face with Ryder—who was carrying an obnoxiously huge bouquet of red roses.
“To figure out that he’s been a jackass,” Ryder continued. “To recognize that he’s walked away from the love of his life. The best thing that ever happened to him.”
“The best thing…” she whispered, standing.
He nodded. Then he tilted his head, studying her. “You got your haircut.”
She laughed, though the sound was mingled with some of those tears she’d been holding back. “Just a trim.”
“I like it. And…I love you.”
Darcy struggled to breathe. Her heart was racing, her palms sweaty, stomach twittery. “Ryder.”
“I’m sorry about last night. And I’d like the chance to make it up to you. If you’ll let me.”
She smiled and nodded. “Okay.”
He smiled back as he handed her the roses, then he took her hand and drew her closer, stealing a quick kiss. Obviously, he’d noticed they were surrounded on all sides by her family.
“Do you mind if I steal Darcy, Mr. Collins?” Ryder asked.
“Not a bit, son. And for future reference, it’s Pat. Or in your case, I think Pop Pop might work best.”
Darcy didn’t miss how moved Ryder was by her grandfather’s words. Or how he glanced at Padraig behind the bar and gave him a quick nod and a smile. “Thanks, Paddy,” he said.
“Paddy?” Darcy asked, surprised to hear Ryder use their family nickname for her cousin.
“You two get out of here and have a good time,” Padraig said, reaching out to take the roses from her. “Hand me those and I’ll put them in water, run them upstairs for you.”
And that was when the light went on.
The hair, the makeup, the new dress, her parents hovering like two nosy old women…
“Everyone knew you were coming,” she said as Ryder grasped her hand and led her to the door.
“They might have helped me set some stuff into motion.”
Darcy was only two steps out of the pub when she stopped in her tracks and gasped. “Oh my God.”
A stretch limo awaited them on the curb.
She laughed. “You got a limo.”
Ryder tugged on the hand he still held and led her to the car. The driver got out, but Ryder waved him off. “I got it,” he said.
Before he opened the door, he whisked her around, pressing her against the side of the vehicle, and kissed her with so much passion, her head spun.
“I love you,” he said again.
“I love you too.”
“What’s the Collins curse?”
Darcy frowned. “What?”
“I heard you tell your Pop Pop that the Collins curse took you down at twenty.”
She laughed. “It’s something Colm made up. He said the Collins family is all cursed because when we fall in love, it’s fast, hard, and forever.”
“And here I was thinking you’d put me under a spell.” He opened the door and she climbed into the back of the limo, overwhelmed by the need to pinch herself to make sure this was all real.
Ryder handed her a champagne glass once they were inside, and the limo pulled away from the curb. He poured them both a glass of bubbly. “I’m afraid I had to make a few changes to your plan for the ideal date. Too many people live in my house and it was easier to move us than the baby.”
She laughed. “I understand completely.”
“So we’re going out to dinner at this little Italian place near the waterfront. Then I’ve booked us a suite at a hotel, where we can dance and talk about our plans for the future, and then…”
“Sex?” she asked with a mischievous grin.
He shook his head as if disappointed. “So unimaginative.”
Darcy shrugged. “What can I say? Compared to you, I clearly suck at romance.”
Ryder took the champagne glass from her, placing them both in a special holder before turning back to her. He wrapped his arm around her and drew her close. “Tell you what. You keep coming up with the plans and I’ll carry them out. Speaking of which, I think this is the part where we get to make out.”
She laughed. “At the beginning of the date? Scandalous.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Nice.”
“Feeling pretty sure of yourself,” she teased.
“Not really. I wasn’t sure you’d accept my invitation or my apology.”
“I wasn’t flirting with Ron.”
“I know that, Darcy. I’ve never experienced jealousy before, and I reacted badly. Besides, Ron and I…”
Darcy waited for him to finish. He didn’t.
And that was when she realized.
“Oh my God. It was him. Wasn’t it? He and Denise—”
Ryder nodded. “His daughter is in Clint’s class.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Ryder tightened the arm around her shoulders. “I’m not. Seeing you with him…it helped me pull my head out of my ass.”
Her Pop Pop and her dad had mentioned similar revelations in the heat of the moment.
“So you got your revenge.”
“No. I didn’t punch him because of Denise. If it had been that, I would have hunted him down years ago. It’s just what I said. I was jealous over you. Because you’re mine. Just mine. From now on.”
Darcy cupped his face with her hand. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”
He kissed her softly. “No more denials. No more secret dating. This is it. We’re a couple. Facebook official.”
She sniffled as one happy tear slid down her face. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Tonight is for us. Just us. Then tomorrow, if you’re willing, I want to tell Clint and Vince about us together.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, touched, excited.
“Yeah. Never been more sure about anything. But I feel like I should warn you, Buttercup. I’m the kind of guy who dates with an eye toward marriage.”
She laughed. “So noted.”
“Can we make out now?”
Epilogue
“There’s my girl. I was wondering when you would get here. How was the dance last night?” Pop Pop asked.
Darcy grinned as she entered his bedroom, winking at him as he tucked a bookmark into his romance novel and slid it under his pillow. “How dirty is this one?” she teased.
He chuckled. “It has a purple cover and an Irish heroine with long, flowing dark hair. Those never tend to disappoint.”
Pop Pop was a huge fan of romance novels, his tastes turning to the historical variety lately, though he certainly wasn’t picky. He’d als
o gone through paranormal and romantic suspense phases as well.
“The dance was amazing. Incredible. The hotel decorations were gorgeous, the whole place bathed in candlelight and white flowers. And the band was so good. Ryder and I danced the entire night.”
She and Ryder had joined her cousin Caitlyn, and her husband, Lucas, for a Valentine’s Day dance at one of the hotels Lucas owned.
“Well, that sounds a lot better than your senior prom. No cardboard cutouts?”
Darcy laughed. “Mercifully, no.”
“How’s the move to Ryder’s going?”
Darcy nodded. “Almost done. Clint and Ryder are actually over at the Collins Dorm as we speak, grabbing some boxes of books I’d packed up. Everything else is already at their place. I hadn’t intended for all of this to go so quickly, but once we asked everyone how they felt about me moving in, Clint was a man on a mission.”
“That boy loves you.”
Darcy smiled, recalling how excited Clint was when she and Ryder told him they were dating. Since then, he’d moved her into what Ryder was calling the “mom” role, inviting her to his Christmas program at school, asking for help with his homework, and insisting she join him and Ryder the day they went shopping for new jeans because he’d outgrown all his pants. The kid had shot up two inches in just a few months. “I’m pretty crazy about him too.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to get here. Wanted to show you my surprise.”
Pop Pop had called her yesterday to ask if she would stop by. She never said no to a visit, especially when it was just the two of them in his room. She loved the times when she got him all to herself, rather than having to share him with everyone else at the busy pub or during family events.
Darcy realized she’d been blessed—luckier than her other cousins—because she’d grown up living in the same house with the beloved man. She had managed to steal more time with Pop Pop than most, simply because he was always there when she was younger, in the same house, day after day.
“I love surprises.”
She followed Pop Pop to his special wall of photographs. Each member of their family was represented there, and it was her favorite place in the whole house. As a child, she’d sit on Pop Pop’s lap, point to a picture at random, and he’d tell her a story about that aunt or uncle or cousin. Hour after hour of family stories, and he’d never repeated a single one. She liked to tease him that he knew all of their stories better than they did.