Page 163 of Trying Sophie

Chapter Forty-Four

Sophie

Fitzgerald’s Pubwas closed for Christmas Eve for a private celebration with friends and family. My grandma had just cut the Christmas cake she’d ordered special from Mrs. McNamara and as slices were passed around, my Grandpa carried his to the corner where he was prepping his fiddle. Nearby his friend tested out his flute.

When Declan bit into the cake he groaned in appreciation. “Have I mentioned how much I love Christmas?” he asked around a mouthful of the spiced nut cake.

“You love whiskey,” I responded, taking my own small bite of the alcohol-laced confection.

I was positive it was flammable, what with the amount of whiskey it’d been soaked in for the last several weeks, and I wasn’t at all convinced you could still call it cake.

Declan nodded. “I do. I really, really do.” And then he kissed me, the sweet marzipan frosting coating his lips giving way to deep plum and orange flavors laced with cinnamon and nutmeg. “But I love the taste of you more,” he added, his brows waggling.

Across the room Katie cheered over our PDA while Cian scowled and looked away. Declan had told me they’d patched things up, but I didn’t know if Cian would agree with that. He’d loosened up a ton in the last several days, but I thought that had more to do with Katie’s influence than any resolution between the two men.

I raised my eyebrow at Katie and she pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, indication she had no idea what had crawled up Cian’s butt and died. I hadn’t the foggiest notion what was going to happen between the two of them, but as long as he remained a nice distraction, I was happy to encourage it.

And speaking of scowling, Declan’s eyes were trained on the front door as a small group of late-comers joined the festivities. I followed his gaze and watched as Aoife unwound a scarf from around her neck while to her left Eoin shuffled nervously.

“What’s wrong?” I leaned in and asked.

Taking a sip of the homemade egg nog I’d made specially for this occasion, Declan shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Did Eoin come with Aoife?” I asked, wondering if Declan’s abrupt mood shift had something to do with his teammate at her side.

“I don’t know,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing. He glanced down at me and his eyes softened. “Keep my seat warm?” he asked, before walking away to talk to his sister.

I watched as he approached them. Aoife’s stance grew defensive, while Eoin glanced around the room anxiously, looking for escape. I raised my hand in greeting and held up a bottle of beer from the bucket at the end of the table, invitation for him to join me. He turned to Aoife, said something, nodded at Declan, and then came to sit next to me.

“Happy Christmas,” I said, handing over the beverage.

“Happy Christmas to you too,” he answered, taking a long drag from the bottle. His eyes flicked back to where Declan and his sister stood in heated discussion.

“Do you know what that’s all about?” I asked, trying to engage him in conversation.

When Declan had voiced his concerns about Aoife’s interest in Eoin, I’d tried to persuade him to mind his own business since they were both adults who could make their own decisions. He’d promised he would let it go but from the way he glowered at his sister now, it didn’t look like that was going to happen anytime soon.

“If I had to guess,” Eoin answered, “yes.”

When he didn’t elaborate, I realized I would have to pry for information. “And your guess would be …”

While he swallowed several deep glugs of beer, he stared down at me over the neck of his bottle. Eventually he said, “Declan doesn’t like that Aoife and I are friends.”

Captain Obvious, reporting for duty.

“Which is fucking idiotic,” he continued, “since we’ve known each other since we were in nappies. What am I supposed to do? Pretend I don’t know her?”

Actually, that’s exactly what Declan wanted him to do. When I’d pressed for a reason why, he’d said it was because Eoin was exactly like he’d been at 21 and he didn’t want his sister to get her heart broken when Eoin eventually tossed her aside. He’d also explained there was a strict code of conduct that put sisters off limits. Declan didn’t have any proof that Eoin had crossed that line, but in his opinion, the younger man was treading dangerously close.

“And that’s all you and Aoife are right, just friends?” I asked, more than a little curious about their romantic status.

“Yeah, of course,” he answered quickly.

Almost too quickly.

I smiled knowingly and took a drink of Declan’s abandoned egg nog.

“Then I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” I responded, licking a trace of sweet custardy goodness from my lips. (God I loved egg nog. Why wasn’t it acceptable to drink it all year long?)

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