Page 37 of After Indigo Irish Nights
Diversion usually worked with the male species. “Didn’t we just solve all the mysteries of the universe a few hours ago?”
“You’d hope so since it was close to three o’clock when we finally broke up.” He laughed and ducked inside, closing the door behind him on the rain. “Donal was nice enough to put me up so I won’t have to endure Bets’ other dollhouse cottage. God, this place is as tiny as I remember it. Do your ankles hang off the bed?”
She looked down and wiggled one. The blood was finally coming back to them. “Yeah, that kinda sucks, but it’s the spiders that are driving me nuts. Every time I turn around—”
“Spiders? Maybe the winter cold kept them away when I was here. Big?”
“One kind is big and hairy.” She shuddered. “The other is delicate and white, and one of them was in my sock yesterday morning. Don’t tell my brothers, but I might have screamed.”
He shrugged out of his navy jacket and laid it carefully on a chair after checking it for vermin, she imagined. “I would have too. Speaking of your brothers, don’t tell Ellie, but I got them all to agree to come to the wedding—on my plane. Your pop too. It’s one of my wedding presents for Ellie.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding! What did you do? Win an arm wrestling match?”
He inclined his head toward the kitchen. “You have coffee?”
“Yeah, I’m on my second cup. But first tell me how you got them to agree.” She was still in shock as she poured him a cup and set it in the ancient microwave to reheat.
“I must be desperate for coffee if I’m taking it nuked.” He made a face. “As for the O’Connors, I simply told them Ellie would cry buckets if they didn’t come and you might as well, although it was more likely you’d beat them over the head with a frying pan.”
“I’d been contemplating that,” she admitted, because having her family at Ellie’s wedding was important, but she knew the O’Connor pride as much as she did the balance in their bank accounts.
He thanked her when she handed him the cup of coffee. “And yes, I asked who I needed to arm wrestle.”
She started laughing. “Who volunteered? And how badly were you hurt?”
Linc took a sip of the coffee before heading to the fridge and pouring in some milk. “Tom volunteered, pulling my chain about how he’s used to dealing with old people at the retirement center he works in. He only sprained my wrist.”
“But he let you win.” God, she loved those blockheads.
“Of course. They’d agreed to go if I beat him. This way everybody got what they wanted or preserved what was vital to them. Men will do anything to maintain their pride. Got any sugar?”
She yanked open a cupboard door that tended to stick, either from age or the damp. He remembered where the silverware was kept, she noted. After taking a spoonful, he stirred his cup thoughtfully as rain began to pound on the roof.
“All right, we’ve covered those topics.” She leaned back against the counter. “Now tell me why I’m your first stop this morning and not your daughter.”
He drank his coffee and nodded before saying, “I thought we were on a roll after last night. I wondered what you might think about increasing the size of your pirate ship. You did mention it a little last night.”
She had. Something about rubbing their nemeses’ faces in it. “Fifteen feet isn’t enough for you?”
His mouth tipped up. “No, actually. Not for what I have in mind. Closer to fifty or seventy-five would be ideal.”
She was sure the ground trembled under her feet. “Do you have any idea how much that would cost?”
“Not a problem,” he said blandly. “Remember me talking about this last night? Plenty of groups and the like to hit up.”
Right. Her head spun. “What about the time it would take to construct?”
“That, I think,isthe problem.” He tilted his head to the side, his blue eyes intent. “I know how much your family means to you. God knows how much they mean to my daughter. You only wanted to come for four months. What I’m asking is whether you’d consider staying for a few years—as long as a larger project would take.”
She should have seen it coming, she supposed. But she hadn’t. Her gut told her that a sculpture of the magnitude he was suggesting would take four years. Holy— “I’m going to need more coffee for this conversation.”
“Good, because I didn’t want to say, but I wouldn’t feed this rewarmed drivel to a pig,” he said, and then he laughed.
That was Linc for you. He’d pull the rug out from under you with one of his huge ideas and then try and make you laugh with something colloquial. Ellie was the same way. Kathleen made new coffee, and they went into the parlor. She watched as he tested a chair before gently easing into it.
“Your backside hurting you or something?” she drawled as much as she could manage. She’d never mastered the Southern accent any more than Ellie had managed the Boston one.
He patted the chair. “I might have cracked it the last time I sat in it. None of the furniture in this country seems fit for big men. But let’s return to my idea… What do you think of it?”
