Page 53 of After Indigo Irish Nights
As he did, she realized the arts center wasn’t just her life’s purpose.
It had become a distraction from her personal troubles.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Declan was about to declare to the entire village that he and Kathleen were a couple.
As he strode across the parking lot of the Brazen Donkey, he could have sworn the stained glass donkey in Ellie’s window was smirking at him.
Seeing Sorcha had opened up his senses to strange and otherworldly things, God help him. He couldn’t wait for that to stop.
As if his thoughts had summoned her, she materialized before his eyes as he reached for the brass door handle to the pub, making him jump a mile. “Jesus, Sorcha!”
“You know you’ll miss me,” she said with a wry smile. “Keep your wits about you, Declan McGrath. Your evening is going to look nothing like you were expecting.”
Then she was gone.
Terrific! More twists in the road…
He almost turned around and went home to tend to his aching muscles from another hard training session, but he’d promised Kathleen. Besides, he had a powerful yearning to see her, one that never left him.
The moment he entered the pub, his eyes found her. He nearly gaped. She was behind the bar next to his brother, pulling a Guinness, looking competent, compelling, and completely in her element.
Forget that she stood out like a grey heron on an Irish beach in her attire of black leather pants and jacket with rough silver jewelry dancing at her ears and wrapped around her slim neck, a look his male parts found absolutely combustible.
People called out greetings to him, which he absently returned as he hung his jacket on the coatrack by the door. Kathleen’s gaze was upon him the moment he looked over, and he couldn’t help but smile. She looked particularly beautiful with the mellow light from the bar fixtures washing over her face. He inclined his chin in the way of a greeting as someone thumped him on the back.
“Isn’t it a grand sight?” Seamus gripped his shoulder enthusiastically, the same way he’d always done at the butcher shop. “That Kathleen O’Connor looks like she belongs behind the bar. How was the training today? I had an errand in Castlebar.”
“Donal treated me well enough, although I caught him in the jaw,” he replied. “He was bitching about how much it hurt to shave these days when I left him in the showers.”
“Find me after tonight’s festivities.” Seamus grabbed him by both shoulders and shook him with as much enthusiasm as he greeted spring lambs for Easter. “We have big news about your second fight. Cormac is beside himself. The single prize will more than cover you buying the butcher shop.”
The man strode off before Declan could press him for information, leaving him with a pulse jumping with excitement.More than cover it?Buying a shop in their small town wasn’t like buying a house. Nowhere near it. Still, he expected it would require a big sum—more than could be brought in from a fight with Paul Keane, say. He started to go after him, but his brother called out his name. He swung around.
“Do you see this?” Brady asked with a lopsided grin, pointing to Kathleen as she worked beside him.
How could he not have noticed? “Brother, are you putting Kathleen to work?”
His brother swung a companionable arm around Kathleen’s shoulders as she finished pulling a beer and handing it to Carrick, who was sitting at the bar with the rest of their friends.
“Ellie bet me that Kathleen could pull a pint as good as me,” his brother answered, “and then Cormac got his betting book out. Dad let out a cheer at the idea, and everyone went mad. You’re just in time to judge.”
“It’s a grand contest, for sure,” Declan’s father called out from behind him.
Turning, he caught sight of his dad at the table where Seamus now sat with their close friends, including Bets and the Lucky Charms and Ellie’s father, Linc. In the corner, Cormac sat at a small table with his black betting book out, a sly smile on his face.
Donal came in through the front door and shot Declan a glance, the kind fighters give each other, before heading over to join them. Yeah, his jaw must still hurt like hell. Well, it was sparring, after all.
Cormac called out another invitation for betting. Tattered bills were spread out on the table by denomination. From the looks of it, a lot of money was going to be made by someone tonight. He wasn’t sure who he should root for—his twin brother or the woman whom he had more than fallen for.
“I’d say you’re in trouble, Brady.” Declan strode to the end of the bar. “Kathleen does look more than competent. You’d better watch yourself.”
“You’re right there, Declan,” Kathleen said, flashing him a wicked grin. “I’ve been pulling beers since I could reach the tap. Not that my brothers or pop let me serve at that tender age, of course.”
“We did the same with our dad, Kathleen,” Declan managed, grateful to learn something new about her. There was so much about her he had yet to learn, and every day presented him with a new chance. He only wished he wasn’t training so hard, because they never seemed to have enough time together.
But he did know many things already. He knew the tenor of her laughs—the gusty one when she was being a little irreverent, the light one when she was laughing at herself, and lastly, the hearty rumble when she was amused by nothing in particular. He loved them all, but he favored the gusty one, since it was the one she used most with him.
