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Connor went to his aunt and kissed her on the cheek. “Are all of you drunk?” he said with amusement.
“I’m not!” proclaimed Darcie with a silly smile. She hadn’t touched a drop of whiskey but she also hadn’t laughed this much in weeks.
With righteous indignance Sondra stated, “We are not drunk.”
“Yet!” said Sophie finishing Sondra’s sentence. The pair burst into giggles.
Connor shook his head with a chuckle. It was good to see Sophie and Sondra getting along so well and even better to see his wife’s bright smile.
“Wait till you hear what Sophie told us,” said Darcie.
“Darcie! You can’t tell him that!”
Darcie gasped a little and blushed. “No, not that. I meant about the painting.”
Connor perched himself on the arm of his wife’s chair and listened as the four women all told him about the painting. He blinked in disbelief. “You’re joking. Liam painted it?”
Nan nodded her head. “It’s signed under a different name, so I had no idea.”
“Yeah, Rory O’Toole is his pseudonym.”
Connor shook his head. “Well, that clears that up but?—”
“We know, it doesn’t help much.”
“True, but it’s good to know.” Connor shook his head again and closed his eyes for a moment. Cian was dead and yet still causing trouble in their lives. Would this ever be over? Well, there was no sense in going down that road now. They had no leads on the mystery girl in the photograph but at least they now knew where the painting came from.
Sophie held out the bottle in Connor’s direction. “I bet you could use a drink of this right about now.”
Connor stepped over to Sophie and took the bottle then tipped it back.
“Feel better?” she asked.
“Nearly.” He returned to Darcie, tipped her head back, sinking his fingers into her hair, and kissed her good and long. “Better.”
Chapter17
Sophie dressed quietlywhile Liam lay fast asleep. It was early, and she didn’t want to wake him. But fate, as it so often did, had other plans. She tripped trying to pull on her jeans and although she caught herself from going completely ass over teacup, she still made quite a racket.
Liam’s voice, thick with sleep, broke the silence. “Thought you were leaving without saying goodbye, did you?”
Sophie jumped slightly before turning to him with a smile. “I have a big delivery arriving in an hour: Keefe’s precious stove and all the chairs.”
The tables were in place, the bar stools lined up, a stage area set up, and the bar top installed. The kitchen was nearly ready for action, too, and the only thing missing from the dining room were the chairs. All in all, the once dingy space now gleamed. Sophie couldn’t have been more pleased with how everything was shaping up.
“Why didn’t you wake me up? I can help you.”
“Because you don’t need to always be my free labor. You officially have my attention.” After zipping up her jeans, she circled back to his side of the bed and intended to quickly kiss him goodbye, but that didn’t exactly work out.
“Do I now?” He kissed her once. “Your full attention?” Twice. “Officially?” Three times.
Dear God did he know how to kiss… If she didn’t tear herself away from him this very instant, she would never leave. “Yes, officially. Want me to wear your class ring and letter jacket?”
He could think of a different ring he’d liked her to wear, but that was for a later date. “I’ll be in my studio today, so if you need any help just call, all right?”
“I will, I promise.” She kissed him once more—this time just a peck then dashed to the door. Then she reappeared to kiss him again. “Okay, now I really do have to go.” She hustled away and when she got to the front door, she called back, “Bye! I love you!”
Liam smiled to himself. He would never tire of hearing her say that.
