Page 20 of Quinn

“Full house. Aces high.” Sally May fanned her cards on the table and grinned at her friends. “Looks like Quinn and Eloise changed my luck.”

“Hmm,” Eileen grunted. If her nephew and the new chef in town were going to change anyone’s luck, you’d think it would be their hostess and not a family friend.

Sally May scooped up her chips and piled them in front of her.

The music playing overhead had Eileen tapping her fingers. By the next verse, she was humming softly to herself. Light from the open door filtered into the family pub. She didn’t need to turn around, she knew it had to be Quinn and Eloise.

“I’m in.” Ruth Ann tossed her chip into the pot and stared at the hand she’d been dealt, doing an awful job of hiding her smile.

Even though the chips didn’t represent real money, the intensity with which they all bet, anyone would think they were playing for cold, hard cash. Tossing her own ante into the pot, Eileen shifted to get a better look at her nephew and house guest. Ever since Gray had taken a liking to Eloise, Eileen had wondered who would be the one to fall for the pretty chef. Carefully watching him walk her to a table, Eileen was pretty sure she had her answer.

Chapter Ten

The dark wood interior of O’Faredeigh’s felt welcoming after the bright sunlight outside. Music drifted from hidden speakers, something jazzy and familiar that had Eloise tempted to tap her toes.

“Be with you in a minute,” Jamie called from behind the bar. “Take any seat you want.”

“Best table in the house.” Quinn pulled out a chair halfway between the bar and the table where his aunt and friends were playing cards. “Unless you’d rather sit at the bar?”

“This is perfect.” Eloise settled into the offered chair, enjoying the peace and quiet. The subtle decorations on the wall, the dark rich paneling, and the dim lights succeeded in somehow making her feel as if she’d been transported far away to Ireland. The pub held that perfect mix of old and new—worn wood floors, vintage photos on the walls, but spotless tables and gleaming brass fixtures. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the aroma of corned beef reached their table.

Jamie approached, set two glasses of water on the table, and smiled at Eloise. “Welcome to O’Faredeigh’s.”

“Thank you.”

“Here for lunch or just some refreshment?”

“Lunch,” Quinn said.

“The usual?”

“Yep. Corned beef and cabbage with a thick slab of soda bread and extra butter.” The man smiled wider than the Rio Grande.

“You are a creature of habit.” Jamie turned his head. “And for our new chef?”

“I hear that your special today is outstanding.”

“The Reuben?”

She nodded, anxious to see if the sandwich was as good as Sally May claimed.

“Good choice.” Jamie returned the smile.

“Are the chips really homemade?”

“Sliced thin for crispiness by yours truly every morning.”

“Excellent. Please add your house-made chips.”

“Will do.” Jamie took their drink orders and with a promise of speedy service, headed for the kitchen.

Once Jamie had disappeared into the kitchen, Eloise turned her attention to her lunch partner. “Jamie’s smile reminds me of your uncle Sean.”

“The Farraday genes run strong. Even though Uncle Sean and Uncle Brian are first cousins, we all are clearly cut from the same mold.”

“I can see. But I have a question.”

“Shoot.” Quinn fiddled with a fork on the table.

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