Page 63 of Trying Sophie

Chapter Seventeen

Sophie

Hearinga commotion coming from the front of the pub, I wiped my hands and wandered through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the heart of Fitzgerald’s. A circle had formed in the middle of the room, each person clamoring to reach the center and bestow felicitations on whoever was enveloped within.

“That was some play,” the booming voice of Mr. O’Malley offered up jovially. “We always knew you had some fancy footwork on ye lad, but they weren’t expecting that!”

“How’re the ribs?” the butcher asked, swatting the man’s back.

“Well, don’t hit him,” Patrick, his nephew, chided. “We need him in top form against Galway.”

“Alright you lot, give the lad some breathing room,” my grandpa scolded, elbowing his friends out of the way, revealing Declan standing in the center of the group.

Bruised and battered, he graciously accepted their praise until he felt me watching him from across the room. Raising his eyes, his gaze locked with mine—held—while more people stepped forward to offer him their congratulations.

When it looked like he wouldn’t be free anytime soon, I mouthed my own congratulations and returned to the kitchen, my heart beating rapidly. Last night’s match—that is, what I’d seen of it between dealing with Cian’s issues and dashing around the pub refilling drinks and clearing tables—came back to me.

Growing up in a city famed for its history of Super Bowl championships and World Series pennants, it was easy to be jaded in the face of athletic victory. When you’d spent your entire childhood hearing everyone you knew extolling the virtue of “our boys” or “my team,” you tended to forget what it meant to actually have a hometown hero. But standing in Fitzgerald’s last night, watching a mother cry tears of joy when her youngest son played the entire match, or taking in the delighted look in my grandpa’s eyes when Declan scored with seconds to spare, I begrudgingly admitted maybe I could understand a bit of their devotion.

When I finished refilling our ketchup bottles, I peeked my head through the door to find Declan regaling his admirers with a play-by-play of the night before. Glancing up, he caught me staring. I probably should have been embarrassed, but I didn’t have it in me to feel any shame. And if his smile was any indication, he liked it when I looked at him, took my fill of him. I grinned back and shrugged. I’d been caught ogling and needed to own it.

Declan shook his head and chuckled before turning his attention back to his fans as I slipped upstairs to get some work done on my blog.

* * *

Declan

After spendinganother 30 minutes answering questions and discussing certain plays, I politely excused myself and snuck into the kitchen to look for Sophie. Colm was at the stove stirring a pot while Maureen chopped carrots.

“Oh, hello dear,” she said when she spotted me. “If you’re looking for Sophie, she’s gone upstairs.”

“Who says I’m not here to say hello to you, Maureen?” I answered, never missing a chance to flirt.

These dimples had been getting me cookies, cakes, and other sweet treats for years.

“You could be,” Colm chuckled, “but everyone saw you light up like a firework when Sophie smiled your way.”

“And then you couldn’t quit looking toward the kitchen, hoping she’d come back,” Maureen added.

“Everyone saw that?” I cringed at the idea of everyone seeing me behave like a love-sick fool.

“Well, maybe not everyone,” Colm teased. “But I certainly did.”

“And then he pointed it out to me,” Maureen chirped happily.

“Well, that’s not at all awkward,” I muttered, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jacket and running the toe of my shoes over a crack in the tile. “And neither is this. Not at all.”

“What’s not awkward, dear?” Maureen asked kindly.

“You. This. Teasing me about Sophie.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” Colm asked. “If you think this is bad, you’re in for a surprise when we actually have a go at you. You need to toughen up, son, if you plan on being with our Sophie.”

“She’s a spitfire, that one,” Maureen added.

See, I thought, that’s exactly what I tried telling Cian. He’d decided Sophie was all sunshine and roses but everyone who really knew her, knew otherwise. That girl had bite.

“It’ll take a special fellow to tame her.”

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