Page 56 of Trying Sophie

Could this get any weirder? Never mind, forget I asked.

“Let me see if I have this right. Over tea and scones one day, while discussing the weather, he said to you, ‘Colm, I’m ready to stop fucking random women and I vow to do things differently with your granddaughter. Will you please, sir, give me permission to court her properly?’ Oh, that’s rich.”

My grandma’s jaw dropped open and my grandpa’s face turned magenta, but I didn’t wait to hear their answer. I’d heard enough for one night. Taking a page out of my mom’s playbook, I stormed out of the room without another word.

As I marched back up the steps, I seriously wondered what the hell I was still doing in Ballycurra. I was no closer to my original goal of saving or selling the pub than I’d been weeks ago, and it didn’t look like things were going to change any time soon. Maybe I needed to cut my losses and get the hell out since it appeared my grandpa was on the mend. Maybe, unlike everyone in this stupid place, I just needed to mind my own damn business and let whatever was going to happen play out in its own time.

* * *

Once safely back behindthe bar, I continued pouring drinks and refilling bowls of pretzels. At the other end of the copper expanse, Cian did the same, but I could feel his eyes lingering on me every couple of minutes.

Handing Siobhan the glass of cider I’d just poured, I wiped my hands and marched over to Cian.

“Stop staring at me.”

“I’m not staring at you.”

“You are. Stop it.” I crossed my arms over my chest and raised my eyebrow.

“Alright, fine. I’m staring, but only because I’m trying to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

“What you’re going to do about Declan.”

“I didn’t know there was anything for me to do,” I responded.

“Well, you know he wants you. And I assume from all the huffing and stomping you’re doing you figured out what your grandda has been up to.”

I snorted. “Yeah, I don’t want to talk about that.”

I stalked back to my side of the bar but my attention was captured by what was happening on the TV. I couldn’t help but stare at the image on the screen, not paying the least bit of attention to what Cian was saying.

Declan’s jersey was so fitted I could make out the defined lines of his six pack, and those tiny white shorts left very little to the imagination. While he lunged and stretched I watched with rapt attention as his quads rippled and flexed.

“Well, that answers that well enough.”

“What?” I shot back. “He’s hot. I’m not ashamed to say it. Besides, you’re hot too.”

“Except in my case you’re able to control yourself,” Cian countered, envy seeping into his words. “Him though? You want to climb him like a tree.”

“I do not!” I felt my face flush and my cheeks turn crimson.

“Right,” he nodded, walking away to continue filling pints.

Half an hour later, the pub was in a frenzy. Customers yelled at the referee nearly as often as they yelled at the players, both words of praise and criticism. I tried my damnedest to avoid what was happening, but Declan was having a good game and my eyes were continuously pulled to the screen.

A cheer erupted and I glanced up in time to see a young kid barrel through a wall of oversized brutes with necks the size of my thigh before he sprinted down the field as an angry horde chased him down. He dove head first into the grass, bringing everyone to their feet.

“He scored a touchdown?” I asked Siobhan as she ran behind the bar to grab a bottle of champagne my grandma had set to chill.

“What?” she tossed over her shoulder as she ran into the crowd, bottle aloft.

I watched as, heedless of its carbonation, she plonked it down in the middle of the table where an older gentleman was being pounded on the back.

“What’s going on?” I asked the guy sitting closest to me at the bar.

“Shh,” he admonished with a frantic wave of his hand.

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