Page 54 of Pints & Potions

“What did you do to her, man?” Cian asked him cautiously, not wanting to provoke another outburst from anyone.

After spinning back to face the bar, Ruairí shrugged. “I asked Bridget to marry me sixteen years ago. Then I kissed another woman after she said no.”

“That makes no sense. She can’t be angry at you for moving on,” Seamus sputtered. “She’s touched in the head, to be sure.”

“Seamus, get the fuck out of my pub.”

The ginger-haired fool realized he’d stepped over the line with his comment the instant he got a good look at Cian’s livid face. Seamus began to stammer. “I-I dinnit m-mean it the w-way it sounded… I… he… she… j-just commiserating, I am.”

“Get out or I’ll pound your face until not even your own mother recognizes you,” Cian warned. He’d had enough of Seamus’s toxic fun at everyone else’s expense. “And don’t return until you can keep a civil tongue in your head, you arse.”

Seamus dug for his wallet, but Cian pointed toward the door. “Just go. You can settle up with Bridget, if she’s willing to let you back in. Mind, you’d better have an apology to serve up when youdoreturn.”

With a brisk nod and a resentful glare, Seamus weaved toward the door. When he’d reached the exit, he cast one last long look at them.

Cian flipped him off.

“I suppose you want me to leave, too?” Ruairí asked then drained his drink.

“Nah. You need to don an apron and take over Bridget’s shift. I imagine it’ll be a while to cool that fiery temper of hers.” Cian dumped Seamus’s abandoned beer mug into the sink and wiped the counter.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good, O’Connor. I suspect I don’t know the half of it. You confirmed what I’d long since wondered.”

“I still love her, but to Bridget, I’m the enemy at the gate.”

Cian fumbled the glass he’d been in the process of picking up.“What?”

“I said I still love her.”

“No, theotherpart.”

“To her, I’m the enemy at the gate?” Rauirí repeated uncertainly and seemingly confused. “What’s that to do with anything?”

“You brilliant bastard!” Cian sandwiched his friend’s head between his hands and kissed him hard, full on the lips. “You bloody, bloody brilliant bastard!”

With a scowl and a hard swipe of his mouth, Rauirí glared. “The entire village is going to think I threw over Bridget to toss you, you prick.”

Cian grinned. “Want another smack on the lips to drive it home?”

Rauirí laughed and shoved him. “Feck off. And you can tell me why I’m so smart after you go take care of what’s making you dance.” He shot a look around and gave a nod in the direction of Sorcha, who was hanging with her friends. “It’s slowed down enough for one bartender, and I can have Sorcha man the tables and the wash up. Go on with you.”

“You’re a good friend to our family, Ruairí. Even if Bridget can’t see it and I forget to tell you when it merits.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get. I have to convince the pub we didn’t just escape the closet we were hiding in.”

Cian laughed and bolted for the door.

From the shadowsoutside the window, the real enemy watched. He noted the second Cian’s attitude changed as whatever Ruairí O’Connor said hit home. Cian jogged toward the exit, and his laughing mouth settled into a wide smile. An air of hope and expectation hung around him.

Fear clawed the enemy’s guts.

If the O’Malleys fulfilled the prophecy, then he was buggered.

Resolve firmed his spine.

He’d had no trouble hiding his dastardly deeds until now, and he’d no reason to believe he wouldn’t get away with it for good. No one suspected the mastermind behind the horrific incidents surrounding the O’Malleys in the past, and they never would.Heknew how to play a part and wouldn’t let them figure it out. All he needed was to tweak his latest plan from chasing away the B&B residents to permanently doing away with them—or rather,onein particular.

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