Page 59 of Highballs & Hexes

“Aye, and we know it’s not Damian, Ronan, or me. So why would any god or goddess wish to harm you?”

“I don’t know. It may just be someone we haven’t considered, or we haven’t looked in the right direction yet. But it won’t matter after today.”

The door behind him swung wide, and Fi, looking delightfully rumpled, scowled. “You’d best be telling me what’s happening today, Patrick O’Malley, or whoever’s after you will need to stand in line to bash you over the feckin’ head.”

Dubheasa, the traitor, laughed.

“Yeah, and I intended to tell you this morning, but you were sawing logs like a lumberjack,” Patrick retorted as he drew Fi’s hair back and dropped lingering kisses along the column of her neck. With no little satisfaction, he noted she craned her neck, allowing him full access.

“I’ll give ya a lumberjack,” she muttered, but her fingers curled around his shoulders as she clung to him. “And about three hours to stop your seduction.”

He chuckled and released her.

Blue eyes glinting with humor, she shook her head. “What are you up to, Patrick O’Malley? And know I didn’t come out of me mother’s womb yesterday, yeah?”

With a shudder that wasn’t all that fake, he scowled. “Please don’t ever mention Clara’s womb again when I’m feeling frisky. The visual will kill my drive for a fortnight or two.”

“Fair enough.” She shared a grin with Dubheasa. “Can I beg you for a cuppa, then we can get this discussion started proper like?”

“Bridget has breakfast waiting, but she’s not happy you and Da slept the day away.”

Fi thread her arm through Patrick’s and gave him a squeeze. “I did all the sleeping. Your da stayed awake to worry.”

“You knew about that?” He was surprised she noticed, but he shouldn’t have been. Fionola was as observant a person as he’d ever met. Perhaps he should’ve discussed the possibilities of their enemy with her.

“Aye. Whenever I woke, you were staring into space. Part of me feared you’d gone back to the island, in your mind.”

Her comment chilled him. Was that always going to be a worry for them both?

“His neurotransmitters were fully healed, Fi,” Dubheasa said, not unkindly. “Neither of you will have to stress over a relapse again.”

Patrick released a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. The assurance was welcome, indeed.

When they entered the kitchen, Bridget was her usually busy self, but Ruairí inserted himself at every opportunity, attempting to ease her workload.

“As much as it pains me to sing the praises of an O’Connor, you’re likely to never find a better mate than the one you’ve got, Bridget, me love,” Patrick said with a hard pat on Ruairí’s back. “He sees you, and that’s half the battle in the fight for a lasting relationship.”

Her laughing eyes met those of her lover, and she winked. “Da’s coming around.”

“Should we celebrate this day with a drink?” Ruairí asked with a chuckle.

“I’ll settle for a coffee with a dram of whiskey,” Patrick replied as he reached for two mugs. “Fi?”

“Tea.”

“She’s the reasonable one, she is.” He gave her a wink and set the kettle to boil before pouring himself a cup of coffee from the carafe. “Who are we waiting on, regarding this discussion?”

“The boys.” Bridget piled beans, eggs, tomatoes, sausage, and potatoes onto two plates. “Toast is on the table with the jam,” she said as she handed him the full dishes and nodded toward a seat. “I’ll make your coffee, Da.”

“You don’t have to wait on me, love. I’ve two capable hands, yeah?” Patrick kissed her cheek and shifted out of the way to allow Carrick’s wife entry to the kitchen.

“Yeah, Da, but I’ve been doing this so long, it would throw off my entire day if I were to pass off the work to another.”

“Believe her,” Roisin said as she gathered two mugs in one hand and the carafe in the other. After placing them on the table, she took a seat on the bench with her back to the wall. “Carrick’s on his way, after he sees Aeden off to school.”

“Should we move to the pub, if more people are joining us?” Fi asked, eyeing the size of the room.

Chuckling, Patrick pulled her to her feet, sat in her seat, then drew her back down onto his lap. “There’s plenty of room, love.”

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