Page 41 of Beer & Broomsticks

Turning off the stove, she shifted to open a cabinet and gasped to see Ruairí resting against the doorjamb and watching her with heavy somberness.

She paused in what she was doing, certain something was about to go terribly wrong. “What?”

“Nothing. I was thinking about the past. And about how much I love just watching you go about your chores, whistling and smiling to yourself. I’ve missed so much.”

The ice encasing her heart melted a little more.

“Aw, Ruairí. We were both eejits.”

“But we’re grown now. We should be able to find our way back to each other. Should’ve been able to long before now, if I’m to be honest.”

She wanted to agree, but she remained silent. There was still a part of her, the cynical part, that taunted her with the possibility he was using her for his own agenda. She’d overheard him talking with Alex and was flattered he cared enough to recreate a few of their finer moments together. Yet she’d been tricked by him before. If she gave her heart to him and he did it again, she’d never recover. Regardless of his intent.

“Dinner’s almost ready. Have a seat.” Bridget nodded toward the table and turned her back to him, afraid her face showed her good sense warring with the desire to fling herself into his arms like the senseless females in the old-school romance novels she couldn’t get enough of. What would it be like to hand over the decision-making to someone else for a change? To have a husband take charge of the day-to-day running of the pub so she could have free time for long hot baths, bonbons, and a glass of wine?

Instead of sitting, Ruairí walked up behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder, not touching her in any other way. “Where did you go, Bridg? One minute, you were present, and the next, you had a faraway look.”

“I’ve work to do,” she said stiffly. “I—”

Taking her hands in his, he guided her toward the table. “I’ll make dinner. You put your feet up, yeah?”

“But you don’t—”

“I’ve magic,mo ghrá.I can conjure anything you’ve a mind to eat.”

His willingness to ease her plight made her smile. “Porter cake?”

“Consider it done.”

“And the wafer bars we ate when we would sneak away.”

“Most especially those.” Before she could blink, the new bars were on the counter beside her.

She laughed. “I’d settle for you finishing the potato soup for tonight’s dinner. There’s bread in the oven that needs to come out in five minutes.”

“And where would you be going?”

“I’ve rooms to see to for tomorrow’s guests.”

“Tell me which rooms, and I’ll—” he twiddled his fingers in the air “—take care of those, too.”

“I could get used to having you around, to be sure.”

“That’s the plan,mo ghrá.Sure, and that’s the plan.”

“While I appreciate your grand abilities, I’ve a need to see to some things myself.” She rose on her tiptoes and brushed her mouth across his in a light, teasing kiss. “You finish here. I’ll be down soon enough.” She stopped when she got to the doorway. “Four minutes on the bread. Don’t burn it.”

“Aye, now go. The sooner you’re gone, the sooner you’ll return. I’ve a mind to see your beautiful face again. I already miss ya.”

Again, she laughed. His charm always brought a smile to her lips and a song to her heart. It was impossible not to love him.

“Go on with ya!” she mock scolded, ruining it with a wink. His wide, engaging grin was her reward.

As Bridget headed upstairs, she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from her face. Perhaps, if they could make it work this time, this easygoing camaraderie underlined with the spark of sexual tension would always be theirs. The thought made her feel years younger.

The tingling started in her hands again, and she paused at the top landing to stare at them in awe.Was it really as simple as allowing him back into her life?

A flash of yellow distracted her, and she looked up sharply to see who might be in the hall.

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