Page 26 of After Indigo Irish Nights
Ellie glanced between them. “I can look one up for you. Maybe there’s one in Westport.”
“He’s kidding, Ellie.” Kathleen crossed her arms. “Mostly.”
“I’m going to take this upstairs and crash.” He made himself lean down and kiss Ellie’s cheek—but not Kathleen’s, of course. “Thanks for this. You ladies have a good night.”
With that, he left them and made his way upstairs, every step radiating agony through his bruised and sore body. He ate with an intensity that shocked him and then showered with the image of Kathleen’s hands on him still fresh in his mind. When he stumbled to bed, she was his last thought.
He awoke from a fog to his brother jostling him awake. “What the hell?”
“Sorry, but Ellie was waiting up for me when I got home. She said she was really worried about you, which got me worrying even more than I already am.” He cracked his neck. “She wanted me to check on you, and seeing your bruises I can see why. Jesus, Declan, you’re a rainbow of pain.”
“I’m training.”
“Of course, Ellie doesn’t know the real reason I’m worried about you as I haven’t told her, and that’s not something I like much.”
He meant Sorcha, of course.
“You were wise not to tell her about that. The Yank and I are agreed. She’s only here for a short time. It doesn’t make sense to get together. We can fight the temptation.” They were also doing it for Brady and Ellie, but he would say nothing about that, else Brady would feel guilty or argue it wasn’t necessary.
“You and Kathleen agreed?” Brady pushed off his bed and paced a moment. “But that’s not how it works. Sorcha—”
“I said I don’t want to hear it, Brady.” He pulled a pillow over his head.
His brother tugged on it, as he’d expected, and rather than let him rip it apart and let loose hundreds of goose feathers, he didn’t fight him. Easier on his stiff hands anyway. They glared at each other.
“But you could be happy. I want that for you more than anything,” Brady said, pointing at him. “And it’d be with Kathleen, who’s like Ellie’s sister. We’d all be family. Why would you both fight against that?”
He wanted to bang his head against the headboard. He was going to have to say things better left unsaid. “And what happens when things end between us and she returns to Boston and her family? Would you have us both be tortured seeing each other for the rest of our lives as we meet again and again at holidays and birthdays and the like, seeing as she’ll as good as be your sister-in-law?”
Brady paled. “But Sorcha—”
“First, Sorcha isn’t infallible. Second, Kathleen doesn’t know about Sorcha’s claims. I think that’s better all around, don’t you?”
“But I want—”
“It doesn’t matter what you want,” Declan said, sitting up with a groan. “It matters what we want.”
His twin let fly an impressive swear word before sitting heavily back on the edge of the bed. “I love you, Declan, so I’m going to say this much, even if it pisses you off. You should listen to Sorcha and go for Kathleen. She’s perfect for you.”
His words echoed Eoghan’s all too eerily. “Leave it be, Brady, and don’t be stirring up more trouble. If Ellie knew about Sorcha—”
“She’d have to tell Kathleen.” He raised his hands in frustration. “Why do you think I haven’t told my very own fiancée yet? She’ll be honor bound to tell her. It’s been my moral conundrum. I’m writhing in guilt.”
“Then let me absolve you.” He lay back and stuffed a pillow under his head. “Kathleen and I have talked about it, twice now, and we’ve decided. This is none of your affair.”
“Do you want to go to your grave without a wife and a family?” Brady asked, his voice hoarse. “I remember what you used to dream about, Declan. You told me you were leaving boxing to have a family. You said you couldn’t wait for our kids to race each other down the narrow roads on bikes or take a brave dip in the cold sea. I want that for all of us, dammit.”
His mind churned up an image of two black-haired boys pedaling hard down the road, hunched over the handlebars, laughing madly. The quadrant of his heart that used to dream of such things throbbed painfully in his chest. The man who’d wanted those things had died a painful death, but he was, truly, dead. “Brady, I beg you. Leave this be.”
His brother shook his head. “You need to put the past behind you. If you won’t talk about this with me, will you at least talk to Liam?”
Finally he closed his eyes, unable to bear seeing the worried, sallow face of his twin. “Liam has left it be as well, for which I’m grateful. He respects a man’s choices.”
The bed dipped as Brady rose. Declan cracked an eye open, wishing he hadn’t. Brady’s face was full of sorrow. “All right. I can’t force you. I can only pray something will make you—and Kathleen—change your minds. Good night, brother.”
He wanted to call out to him, but what could he say? “Good night,” was all therewasto say, so he said it quietly as Brady let himself out.
When the scent of oranges surrounded him, he wasn’t surprised to see Sorcha appear where his brother had been sitting. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? It’s too bad she won’t turn ugly as you hope. She’s only going to grow lovelier. Do you truly plan to fight her your entire life?”
