Page 10 of Over Verdant Irish Hills

A sex picnic of sorts, she mused, feeling like she could walk on air. The scent of oranges surrounded them again.

This time they smelled like hope, and Bets smiled broadly at Linc as she decided hope wasn’t just a young woman’s purview.

She could have it at the rosy age of sixty-one.

CHAPTERFOUR

His internal calendar was on fire.

Linc had never much thought about Wednesday. It was any other day of the week. But right now, it was all he could think about. Him. Bets. Together. Only two more days. He could make it. There’d been a break in the rain, so he’d taken a long walk on the country road to expend some of his restless energy. Arriving back at the house, he was as charged up as ever. Who was he kidding? Not seeing Bets for another two days was untenable.

He was going to die.

Hanging up his rain slicker, he headed to the kitchen. Lupe was singing as she cleaned a red mixing bowl. If the smell coming from the oven was any indication, she was cooking up her famous green chile chicken enchiladas.

“You aren’t supposed to be cooking, remember? The Sunday brunch with the O’Connors was supposed to be your final meal.”

“I didn’t agree to that,” Lupe only said, drying the bowl with a towel. “Besides, I had a vision. I thought you might take Bets dinner tonight since you’re prowling around the house like a tomcat.”

The excuse to see Bets flashed in his mind like a hotel sign on the Vegas strip. There was nothing he wanted more, but still he swore under his breath and said, “Jeez, Lupe, you aren’t supposed to say things like that about me. You should have gone sightseeing in Westport with Kathleen and her new hubby and the O’Connor men. Cooking isn’t necessary.”

She was cleaning yet another bowl, this one Irish green and made by Megan at the arts center. “I’m happy in the kitchen,” Lupe said, tossing the sponge in the sink and drying the bowl. “You, however, are going to take my enchiladas over to Bets and have supper with her. I approve of her, by the way.”

Maybe he could have a quick supper with Bets without feeling guilty for leaving Lupe on her own. She wouldn’t like him feeling guilty, of course, especially since she was trying to push him out the door. And yet… “Lupe, I always appreciate your opinion, but we both know I’ve managed to screw up more relationships than any man deserves—”

“Anyone who is in the wrong relationship is destined to screw it up.”

There was that word again. But God, how could he not laugh at that? “You do have a funny way of seeing things, but then again, that’s why I’ve always liked you. ”

“Also… You need a housekeeper. If the ranch weren’t our home, Juan and mine, I might come here, but that’s not my destiny.”

“Stop talking like this.”

“This is your destiny, Linc, in case it hasn’t gotten through that thick skull of yours.”

He loved the Lucky Seven, and there were days he missed it with all his breath. Then he’d remember all the nights he’d spent alone there, working on his empire. That empire was now in the capable hands of his successor, Lupe’s nephew.

Here in Caisleán, he was rarely alone when he didn’t want to be. The Brazen Donkey was his home away from home, and he’d made real friends in Ireland, not the kind of people who’d cozy up to him because they wanted something from the self-made billionaire. Then there was Bets. She alone would have been enough incentive to stay on this island.

“You might be right,” he said, crossing and kissing her cheek. “But one thing is for sure. Finding another housekeeper won’t be easy. It’s not like they grow Lupe Hernandez-type women on trees.”

“Nor ones like Bets O’Hanlon,” she bandied back, opening the oven and taking out the pan bubbling with cheese and green chile sauce. “We’ll let it cool. You change your clothes and put on some more cologne.”

“I thought a ghost was my only matchmaker,” he said with a wink.

“You need all the help you can get.” She patted his arm after she set the pan down on a hot plate. “Now go.”

He changed his clothes. Not because Lupe had suggested it, but because he certainly could stand to look more presentable. If he splashed on a little cologne, well, it was what a gentleman did when he was courting a lady.

The sound of a whistle had him jumping in place. Sorcha appeared behind him, answering the question of whether ghosts could be seen in a mirror.

“Looking good, cowboy.”

He scowled at her. The last thing he needed was her popping in like that and nearly giving him a heart attack. “Get out of my bathroom.”

She gave a hearty laugh. “Be glad I cameafteryou finished changing. Have fun tonight.”

With that, she disappeared. Linc eyed the lock on the bathroom door. How did one keep a ghost out? He decided he wasn’t going to ask Lupe. She’d only get a kick out of it.

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