The Summer Garden. Sherryl Woods
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He shrugged. “I’ve a long day of hard work ahead.”
“And you hate oatmeal,” she countered. “Even when I filled it with raisins and brown sugar, then topped it with cream, you always turned up your nose.”
“Nasty stuff,” he said, then grinned back at her. “No offense.”
She shook her head, her expression one of amused tolerance. “Get the eggs and bacon from the fridge.”
He’d just set a large platter of eggs and bacon on the table when the back door opened and Dillon and Moira came in. Moira’s cheeks were flushed from the early- morning chill in the air and her hair was tousled by the wind off the water. Her blue eyes were sparkling with delight, either from the walk or the sight of him. He couldn’t help hoping it was the latter. Since spotting her the night before, his emotions had been in turmoil, a mix of pure happiness and panic that her presence meant so much.
“This is a surprise,” she said.
“I thought you could come with me to the pub after breakfast,” he said, then greeted Dillon, who was watching the two of them with amusement.
“Ah, he’s finally noticed I’m in the room,” Dillon commented.
“And I faded into the background when the door opened as well,” his grandmother said.
“If the two of you are going to give me grief, I’ll lure Moira away to Sally’s for a peaceful breakfast,” Luke threatened.
“Not after you’ve insisted on cooking all these eggs,” Gram retorted. “Sit, everyone. Dillon and Moira, you have your choice of eggs and bacon, oatmeal or scones, or all of it.”
“I’ve worked up an appetite,” Dillon said. “I’ll start with oatmeal and go from there.”
“Eggs for me,” Moira said. “And then a scone. They smell delicious, Mrs. O’Brien.”
“It’s Nell, please. I thought we’d established that in Ireland.” She turned to Luke. “What do the two of you have planned for the day?”
“I’m going to show Moira the pub,” Luke said. “And she’s going to help me sort through all the potential musicians for the opening night and make a list of those I should book for later.”
“And will I be sneaking a peek at this pub of yours today?” Dillon asked.
Nell reached over and rested a hand on his. “Since I’ve been prevented from stepping foot inside until the opening, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait as well. I’m not about to stand on the sidewalk feeling left out.”
Luke heard the teasing note in her voice, but he also sensed that his grandmother had a real yearning to be among the first to see the pub. Since her financial support by signing over his trust to him had made the pub possible, he relented.
“You should all come. You, too, Gram. After all, if it weren’t for you, I could still be struggling to put the financing into place.”
Dillon gave him a sharp look at that. “Nell’s given you the backing for the pub?”
Luke sensed his disapproval. “I would never take her money,” he said, regarding the older man with a steady gaze.
“It was a trust his grandfather had set aside for him,” Nell explained. “It was Luke’s money. He didn’t even know about it. Nor did he ask for it. He was prepared to do this on his own, Dillon.”
“I see,” Dillon said, though he still didn’t look entirely happy about what he’d heard.
Moira suddenly stood up. “Luke, perhaps we should be going. I know you have a lot you need to accomplish today.” She turned to her grandfather. “And perhaps you could listen more closely to what Nell has said.”
Luke smiled at the implied rebuke. “You needn’t rush to my defense, you know.”
But before the words were out of his mouth, she had grabbed her coat and was gone. By the time he’d kissed his grandmother goodbye and shrugged into his own jacket, she was already out of the yard and marching determinedly toward town.
When he caught up with her, she finally slowed her pace.
“Mind telling me what that was about?” he asked. “I don’t think it had anything to do with me or the financial arrangements I made with Gram.”
She glanced at him, then sighed. “I didn’t like him jumping to conclusions and making judgments about you.”
“If I’d done what he suspected, the judgment would have been fair enough,” Luke said.
“But you didn’t,” she said heatedly. “You’re not that kind of man. You’d never take advantage of your grandmother in the way he was thinking.”
Luke frowned. “Tell me the truth, Moira. Are you worried that your grandfather won’t approve of me?”
“I’ve never given two figs about anyone’s opinion but my own,” she said.
He smiled at her fierce tone. “I don’t actually believe that, if you don’t mind my saying so. I think you care a little too much. And I think what he said to me may have reminded you of things either he or your mother have said to you. It cut a little too close, didn’t it?”
She scowled, then sighed. “How do you know me so bloody well after so little time?”
He reached out a hand and halted her, then turned her to face him. It took a full minute, but she finally lifted her gaze to meet his. “Because,” he said gently, “when you’re not being all prickly and defensive, you’ve let me see into your heart.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” she said, catching him by surprise. “I wonder if it wouldn’t be better if I’d remained a mystery.”
Luke laughed at the plaintive note in her voice. “Too late,” he told her, leaning down to cover her mouth with his and cut off any further words. Eventually she relaxed into the kiss, clinging to his shoulders, letting the heat build and swirl between them.
When he finally released her, her gaze was a bit dazed, but there was a smile on her lips. “It is too late, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me knowing you inside out.”
She grinned at his smug certainty. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to see about that. I imagine I can still come up with a few surprises, Luke O’Brien.”
He laughed then. “I’ll look forward to them.”
And, heaven knows, he would. Perhaps more than he should.
6
Moira and Luke had almost reached Shore Road when the first of the O’Briens popped up in their path. Moira recognized Heather, who was obviously on her way to open her quilt shop. A mischievous grin spread across Heather’s face when she spotted them.
“How did you enjoy your surprise?” she teased Luke. “Aren’t you glad my husband didn’t give it away?”
Moira regarded her curiously. “That would be Connor, right?” she asked, trying to get all of them straight again in her head.
“Connor, the blabbermouth,” Heather confirmed just as the man in question left a parked car and headed in their direction. “We met Luke just outside of Nell’s last night. Connor used the opportunity to taunt him about being late and almost gave away the big secret that you were waiting out back.”
“Nobody told me it was supposed to be a big secret,” Connor protested as he joined them. “Everyone’s known about Dillon coming for weeks.”
“But not about Moira,” Heather reminded him, then faced Moira. “Was it too overwhelming being surrounded by O’Briens last night?”