New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Sherryl Woods proves once more that home is always where the heart is.

Falling for “Maddening Moira” O’Malley was the unexpected highlight of Luke O’Brien’s Dublin holiday. So when she pays a surprise visit to Chesapeake Shores, Luke is thrilled…at first. A fling with this wild Irish rose is one thing, but forever? Maybe someday, but not when he’s totally focused on establishing a business that will prove his mettle to his overachieving family.

Given Luke’s reaction, Moira has some soul-searching of her own to do. Scarred by her father’s abandonment, she wonders if Luke, with his playboy past, is truly the family man she longs for. Adding to her dilemma, she’s offered an amazing chance at a dream career of her own.

Deep down, though, Moira knows home is the real prize, and that love can be every bit as enchanted as a summer garden.

Praise for the novels of

New York Times and USA TODAY

bestselling author Sherryl Woods

“Sherryl Woods gives her characters depth, intensity,

and the right amount of humor.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Friendship and romance are at the heart of the

latest Chesapeake Shores book… Once again, Woods,

with such authenticity, weaves a tale of true love

and the challenges that can knock up against that love.”

—RT Book Reviews on Beach Lane

“Once again, Woods proves her expertise in matters of the heart as she gives us characters that we genuinely relate to and care about. A truly delightful read!”

—RT Book Reviews on Moonlight Cove

“Woods’ amazing grasp of human nature and the emotions that lie deep within us make this story universal.”

—RT Book Reviews on Driftwood Cottage

“Love, marriage, family, and forgiveness

all play an important part in Woods’ latest richly nourishing, holiday-spiced novel.”

—Chicago Tribune on A Chesapeake Shores Christmas

“Characters are handled well and have real chemistry—

as well as a way with one-liners.”

—RT Book Reviews on Harbor Lights

“Sparks fly in a lively tale that is overflowing

with family conflict and the possibility of rekindled love.”

—Library Journal on Flowers on Main

“Launching the Chesapeake Shores series,

Woods creates an engrossing…family drama.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Inn at Eagle Point

The Summer Garden
Sherryl Woods

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Dear Friends,

Whenever I begin a new series, I always wonder if readers will fall in love with the characters as I have. You have definitely embraced the O’Briens as the complicated, boisterous, loving family I was envisioning as I wrote that first book, The Inn at Eagle Point.

Now, as I finish The Summer Garden, which will

wrap up this series, I wanted to be sure it’s a worthy finale. What better than a dual love story, plus the birth of a baby? Even as the series ends, there will be so many

new beginnings. And isn’t that the cycle of life?

I hope you’ll enjoy watching Nell find her own

well-deserved happy ending, even as Luke, the youngest of her grandchildren, finds his love with a most unlikely woman.

And for each of you, I wish you strong family ties and

the joy of laughter.

All best,

Sherryl

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion

1

Maddening Moira was still in his head!

Luke O’Brien had been home from Ireland for a month now. He’d been obsessing over his plans for the pub he wanted to open in Chesapeake Shores, worrying about the likely uproar with his family. He’d gone out a few times with the sophisticated, delectable Kristen Lewis, picking up where they’d left off during a brief rendezvous in Ireland. Truth be told, it was a matter of convenience for both of them, not a meeting of the hearts, but until recently it had been an excellent distraction, if only because it had complications galore that appealed to Luke’s desire for a taste of rebellion.

But then along came Moira Malone with the sharp tongue and wry wit.

“I’ll not be taken in by smooth talk and a wink,” she’d told Luke, firmly putting him in his place. “I’ve been around such men all my life.”

They’d met on the O’Brien family’s holiday excursion to Ireland a few months ago. She was the granddaughter of his own grandmother’s old flame, Dillon O’Malley. She was beautiful, but impossible. In fact, it was entirely likely that she was the most frustrating female he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting, in part because she’d been mostly immune to his charm. She’d complicated his life in an entirely different way. She’d unexpectedly engaged his heart.

After staying on in Ireland for several weeks after the rest of the family had returned to Chesapeake Shores, Luke had eventually come home, ready to move on with his life. Ready to finally get serious about life, according to his impatient father, who’d vocally protested the wasting of his college education.

He had a degree in history, for heaven’s sakes! Had anyone seriously thought he’d use that? He certainly hadn’t. He’d chosen history because he enjoyed the subject as much as any other and he’d needed to get the college off his back by declaring a major.

Now, though, the clock was ticking, and the tightly knit O’Briens were all watching and waiting to see what he—the youngest of family matriarch Nell’s grandchildren—planned to make of himself. He doubted that opening an Irish pub on Shore Road was what anyone in the family would have guessed his calling to be.

Restless after going over his plans for the thousandth time, hoping to be so sure of himself, so confident of his path that no one would even attempt to talk him out of it, he wandered over to his brother’s office.

Matthew was currently proving himself to be almost as talented and innovative an architect as their world-renowned uncle Mick. Like most of Luke’s family, Matthew had discovered his passion early on. Luke had envied everyone in his family, not only for knowing what they wanted, but also for succeeding at it, sometimes phenomenally well. He had daunting examples to follow.

When Luke arrived, Matthew was so absorbed in the blueprints on his desk he never even glanced up, which gave Luke more pacing time to get his thoughts in order. He intended to try out his idea first on the most receptive audience he was likely to find.

Eventually, Matthew looked up, spotted him and blinked. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” Luke said. “How many towns and villages have you designed today?”

“Only the one,” Matthew replied, grinning. “I think the plans for this community in Florida are just about set to go to the developer for final approval. He’s very anxious to break ground, judging by the frequency of his calls for updates on my progress.”

Luke had seen his share of architectural renderings over the years, but he had to admit that he lacked the vision to translate them into brick-and-mortar towns. Still, he peered over his brother’s shoulder, prepared to feign the proper enthusiasm. What he saw, though, as he leafed through the pages, left him dumbstruck.

“You designed this? From scratch? A whole community, from houses to Main Street to schools, a library and even a church? You just looked over a few acres of vacant land and imagined all this?”

Matthew’s grin spread as he nodded. “Pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.”

“I guess all that time you spent playing with Lego as a kid wasn’t wasted, after all. Has Uncle Mick seen it?”

“Of course. He’s in here pestering me every other day. I gather when he isn’t calling me, the developer’s calling Uncle Mick to nudge things along.”

“And?”

“Uncle Mick says it’s as good as anything he’s ever done,” Matthew said, looking pleased.

“Which means it’s a thousand times better,” Luke concluded. “He’s not going to say so on your first big job and risk your having a swelled head and demanding a bigger salary.”

Matthew shrugged off the compliment. “Things can always be better. Uncle Mick has even talked to me about things he would have done differently if he had Chesapeake Shores to design over again.”

Luke regarded him with surprise. “Really? Like what?”

“He admits that Uncle Thomas was right about wanting the community to be built in an environmentally friendly way. He says he wouldn’t have given him such a tough time about it.”

Luke laughed. “No, he’d just give him a tough time on general principle, the same as he does with Dad.”

“More than likely,” Matthew agreed. “So what brings you by here at the end of the day?”

“I was hoping you’d have time for a drink.”

“Sure. Mind if Laila tags along? I was going to meet her for dinner in an hour. You can join us.”

“That’ll work. There are some things I’d like to run by her, anyway.”

His brother regarded him suspiciously. “Just what do you and my wife have to talk about?”

“Maybe we’re conspiring to throw a surprise party for your birthday,” Luke teased, knowing how much his brother abhorred the whole concept of surprise parties, even though he’d determinedly pulled off his own almost-surprise wedding in Ireland, keeping Laila mostly in the dark until his Christmas Eve proposal.

“My birthday was just a couple of months ago, and neither of you is that much of a long-range planner,” Matthew retorted. “Try again.”

“How about I explain it over drinks?” Luke countered.

“Fine. Brady’s okay?”

“Actually, I have someplace else in mind. I need to stop by Dad’s office first. Why don’t I meet you on Shore Road in front of Panini Bistro in twenty minutes?”

“Suits me,” Matthew said. “I’ll call Laila and let her know. If I get there first, I’ll grab a table.”

“Actually, don’t do that,” Luke said. “Wait for me in front, okay? Tell Laila to grab a table, though, if she gets there before we’re back.”

“Back?” Matthew gave him an odd look. “Curiouser and curiouser.”

“Trust me, okay?”

“Always,” Matthew said at once. “See you in a few minutes.”

Luke gave him a wave, then headed for his father’s office. He was hoping to find his father gone for the day and perhaps only his sister still there. Susie might give him grief over his request, but she was less likely to pull rank and demand answers.

Even better, he found the real estate management company run by his father to be closed for the day. Using the key he had for the occasions when he helped out showing properties, he went in, plucked a key off the board for the properties they owned or managed and closed back up.

He beat Matthew to their appointed meeting spot by mere seconds.

“Where to now, o secretive one?” Matthew inquired.

“Not far,” Luke said, heading down the block to a large empty space that had been occupied by a French restaurant that had gone belly-up, unable to survive during the slower winter months. Personally, he thought it had failed because of the god-awful uncomfortable chairs that had made the customers squirm through the torturous minutes it took to eat their overpriced food, but what did he know?

He led the way inside and flipped on lights, then turned to his older brother. “What do you think?”

Matthew looked blank. “Of what? It’s an empty space.”

Luke held his gaze. “Think you could help me turn it into a warm and welcoming Irish pub?”

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he heard a hoot from the doorway and turned to see his uncle Mick standing there.

“I come to check on why lights are blazing in an empty property and find you making plans to open a pub?” Mick said, his expression incredulous.

Luke sighed. He hadn’t wanted such a tough audience right from the outset, but maybe it was for the best. Mick had a good business head and a real understanding of what this town needed. He wondered if Mick would see the value of a gathering spot in the heart of town, a warm and welcoming place in the Irish tradition.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Luke confirmed, looking Mick directly in the eye. “What’s your opinion?”

Mick’s gaze narrowed. “What makes you think you can do this? You never worked as a bartender, as far as I know. Never worked in a restaurant, either.”

“Not entirely true,” Luke said. “When I stayed on in Ireland, I worked for a time at McDonough’s, the pub where we spent so much time while we were there. I also traveled all over the country visiting every pub I could find, from those in cities to those in small villages. I asked a million questions, took copious notes and cooked my share of fish ’n’ chips. I even bought an antique bar in a place that was closing. It’s being shipped over here for arrival in a month’s time.”

Matthew’s expression was now as stunned as his uncle’s. “I thought you stayed in Ireland after the family and Kristen left because you developed some misguided crush on the impossible Moira.”

“That’s what I wanted everyone to think,” he admitted, and it had been partly true. “I wasn’t ready to have all of you shoot down this idea of mine. I was still formulating it, testing it out in my heart and my head to see if it felt right.” He leveled a look into his brother’s eyes, pleading with him to understand and back him in this. “It does.”

“But a pub?” Matthew said, his concern evident. “Why?”

“In a weird way, it was something Mack said a while back,” Luke explained, referring to his sister Susie’s husband. “I was giving him some advice and he made an offhand comment that maybe I should consider being a shrink like Will. He was actually being sarcastic, but the idea stuck.”

“And that led you to this pub idea?” Mick said. “What kind of sense does that make?”

“Everyone knows people pour out their troubles to bartenders,” Luke explained. “I like listening, not in any official capacity, the way Will does, but just being a sounding board. When we were in Ireland, I saw that kind of thing happening in every pub we went to, and it all kind of fell into place. Pubs create their own kind of community, not just for drinking but for food and friendship, for music and laughter. At least when they’re done right. I’d like to be at the center of something like that.”

“Well, I’ll be,” Matthew said.

Luke studied his brother’s face to see if shock was edging toward approval. “So, do you think I’m insane?” he prodded.

“A little,” Matthew said. “But I can also see it working. How about you, Uncle Mick? Look around. Imagine that antique bar across the back wall with a big mirror that will bring in the view of the bay, at least during the day. Maybe not as dark as the usual Irish pub, but one suited to a seaside town. Laila and I saw one like that in Howth with a view of the marina.”

He glanced toward Luke. “You mentioned music. Does that mean you’d like a small area for a band?”

“Absolutely,” Luke confirmed. “Nothing too large or fancy, just an area where musicians can set up. I’m hoping to book some authentic Irish groups from time to time. Bands, singers, whatever I can find.”

“Got it,” Matthew said, jotting notes on the pad that was ever-present in his pocket. “Uncle Mick, what do you think?”

Mick shook his head and began to pace. Only after he’d been at it a few minutes did Luke realize he was mentally measuring. When he halted in front of Luke, he looked him in the eye. “You have a business plan? Times get tough around here in winter. You have to be able to weather that.”

“I think the music will keep the locals coming in and maybe draw people from around the region. My figures seem sound enough to me, but I was hoping Laila could take a look at them,” he said. “Math was never my strongest suit. I’m hoping she’ll have time to take over that end of things for me, keep the finances on track and yank my chain when I’m tempted to bust the budget for one thing or another, as she does for Jess.”

“Ah, so that’s why she’s waiting for us now at Panini Bistro,” Matthew said. “We should probably get over there. Uncle Mick, care to come along?”

“Try to keep me away,” Mick said at once. “I’ll just walk to the corner, which is where I was headed when I spotted you two, and get Megan. She should be closing up her gallery about now.”

On his way to get his wife, Luke surmised, Mick had apparently crossed paths with Luke’s cousin Connor, who was meeting his wife, Heather, at her quilt shop and invited them along, because Connor and Heather accompanied Connor’s parents to the restaurant.

By the time they were actually seated at Panini Bistro, they needed just about every vacant seat in the tiny restaurant. Naturally, it was Mick who seized the moment to announce Luke’s news, which caused a noisy eruption of input from everyone in the room, until Mick finally slapped a hand on the table to get their attention. Then he turned to Luke.

“What do you plan to call this bar of yours?”

Luke grinned. “O’Brien’s, of course. If I have a good Irish name, why would I call it anything else?”

A grin spread across his uncle’s face. “And we’re the first to know about this idea of yours?”

“You are,” Luke confirmed, then realized what he’d done.

Yet again, Mick O’Brien had managed to trump one of his brothers, getting the hottest family news first. In a family as competitive as theirs, Luke’s father would never hear the end of it.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me be the one to tell Dad?” Luke pleaded. “Out of respect.”

Mick was clearly torn, but when Megan poked him in the ribs with an elbow, he nodded with obvious reluctance. “Only fair, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” Luke said, then glanced around. “So, I have your support for this? Laila, you’ll look over the budget, and, Connor, you’ll check all the legalities?” As those two nodded readily, he glanced around. “And you all think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a fine idea,” Mick said to more enthusiastic choruses of agreement from the others. “And if it’s something you’re passionate about, only a fool would stand in your way.”

Luke had a hunch that if his father didn’t grant him unqualified support, his uncle would be more than happy to repeat the exact same message to him. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. The last thing Luke wanted was to launch another family feud.

Moira glanced at the snapshot she’d taken a few weeks ago of Luke O’Brien. It was one of her better pictures, she thought. It had captured him laughing, the sea in the background, his black hair tousled by the wind, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. Just looking at it made her heart catch.

When Luke had turned up at her grandfather’s house along with the rest of his boisterous family for a Christmas season celebration, she’d been in one of her increasingly dark moods, ready to snap at anyone who crossed her path. Her grandfather and her mum were used to her mood swings and her rebellions. They openly worried about her and her lack of direction, which only made her more miserable.

Amazingly, she hadn’t scared Luke off with her tart tongue. He’d stuck to her that night like glue, teased her until she’d even managed a smile or two. And when they’d all gathered for his brother’s impromptu wedding to Laila just days later, Luke had even coaxed her onto the dance floor, crooning in her ear as if he were settling a nervous filly until she finally relaxed in his arms. And fell just a little bit in love with him.

Truthfully, she’d fallen for his whole family. They were so different from her own. For all the evidence that they argued and battled wits, the O’Briens were also openly affectionate with one another. There was none of the bitterness that emanated from her own mum, or the nonstop worry she saw in her grandfather’s eyes. Brothers, sisters and cousins, along with their spouses, actually seemed to love one another, while Moira could honestly say there were days when she wished her own self-absorbed, thoughtless brothers would vanish in a puff of smoke.

“Moira, the fellow at the table in the corner has been trying to catch your eye for a while now,” Peter McDonough said. “Seems he’s ready for another Guinness.”

Moira snapped herself back to the moment, then quickly returned the picture of Luke to her pocket. She took the drink and crossed the pub.

“Kevin, is it?” she said to the man, who was apparently a regular, while she was new to this particular pub, if not to waiting tables. “Sorry for the delay.”

He gave her a friendly smile. “You looked distracted. Was it someone special in the picture you were studying so intently?”

Was Luke someone special? she wondered. Well, the answer to that was obvious. Of course he was! He was a charming rogue, the kind of man her dad had been, if her mother’s bitter stories were to be believed. She’d understood for the first time how her mother could have been taken in by such a man. In just a few short weeks she’d started imagining herself with Luke forever.

“A friend,” she said now, knowing that she and Luke were at least that much.

The time they’d spent together had been amazing. They saw eye-to-eye on so many things, were both struggling to figure out their places in the world. Together, they’d shared laughter and a passion that had been entirely new to her. At twenty-two, she’d thought she’d been in love a time or two, but now she knew better. What she’d felt with Luke had been different. She’d looked beyond immediate gratification to a future. She only wished she could be sure he’d done the same.

His emails since he’d returned home to Chesapeake Shores had been thoroughly unsatisfying. They’d told her only that she’d crossed his mind, but little else about what he was doing or, more important, feeling. They’d made her cautious in her own responses, not wanting to reveal too much about how desperately she missed him. It seemed impossible that someone could mean so much to her after so little time. Perhaps those days and nights they’d spent together had been nothing more than a wonderful but temporary fantasy come true.

The one practical result being with Luke had accomplished was to motivate her to finally leave the small village where she’d grown up to come to Dublin. For the moment she was staying with her grandfather, but if this job continued the way it had begun, with more than decent tips at the end of the day, she’d soon have enough to find a small place of her own or with a girlfriend. Finally, she’d be doing something she enjoyed without her mum gazing at her in disappointment because she wasn’t continuing her education or aiming higher.

What Kiera Malone had never understood was that Moira enjoyed talking to people, making them smile, being surrounded by their laughter. The only activity more satisfying to her was photography, but she hadn’t a clue how to turn that into a career. For now, she was happy enough taking pictures just for her own pleasure, giving them to friends when she’d captured them at a moment when their personality was evident in the shot.

Back at the bar, she drew the picture of Luke from her pocket once more and smiled. She’d done exactly that in this shot of Luke at his carefree, charming best.

“What’s that?” Peter asked, glancing over her shoulder, then recognizing Luke from the time he’d spent in the pub asking questions and filling in behind the bar. “Ah, you’ve caught the essence of Luke, that’s for sure.” His expression turned thoughtful. “Have you taken others?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Could you do the same thing in here, perhaps snap some pictures of the regulars? We could frame them and hang them on the walls.”

She regarded him with astonishment. “Seriously?” It was the first time anyone had even hinted that she was good enough at photography to do more than take snapshots for her own enjoyment.

“You’ve been coming around here with your grandfather for years. Have you ever known me not to be serious when it comes to this business?” he asked. “I think it will add something special to the place.” He shrugged. “Who knows? It might also bring you a few customers who’d like you to take pictures for their family events.”

Moira hesitated. Was she really good enough for that? Was that even something she wanted? She heard Luke’s voice in her head, encouraging her to take chances, to reach for things she found truly satisfying.

“I’ll do it,” she told Peter, feeling a faint stirring of excitement. “No charge for you, of course. We’ll just see how they turn out.”

“If you take them, I’ll pay for them,” her boss insisted. “You’ll have to be setting your rates now, won’t you?” He grinned. “And then you can give me a generous first-time customer discount.”

She laughed. “Deal.”

A day that had started out in a very dreary way had taken a definite turn for the better. And to think it was her snapshot of Luke that had made that happen. Even from such a long distance, it seemed he was her good-luck charm. If only he were a little closer, Moira thought, she could thank him in person. At least tonight she could send him an email with something exciting to report from her own life, something that might engage him in the sort of exchange they’d had so often during his visit.

Jeff O’Brien regarded his younger son with dismay. “A pub? Are you serious?”

“I am,” Luke said, keeping his gaze level and not backing down under Jeff’s blatant skepticism.

“But why? You have a college degree. Why not put it to good use? You could teach history at the high school.”

“Me? In a classroom? I’d lose my freaking mind,” Luke replied.

Jeff smiled at the adamant response. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I realized it was a bad fit. You played hooky every chance you got, didn’t you? How many times was your mother hauled out of her classroom or I was called in from work to bail you out of a jam with the principal? I doubt you’d be any happier at the front of the room. You were never fond of routines and predictability.”

“Exactly,” Luke said, then leaned forward earnestly. “I know this isn’t anything we ever talked about, Dad, but the minute the pieces started falling into place, it felt right. I don’t know if it was being in Ireland and really connecting with my Irish roots, or what Mack said about my being a good listener, or maybe both together, but for the first time I thought, this is something I can do, something I can be really excited about.”

Jeff heard that excitement in his son’s voice and, though he had a thousand reservations, he didn’t want to be the one to put a damper on his enthusiasm. Still, he couldn’t help expressing caution.

“Businesses come and go in this town,” he warned. “And the start-up costs money. Where will you find it?”

Luke hesitated, then admitted, “I was thinking I could sell the waterfront land on Beach Lane that you’ve been holding for me.”

Jeff regarded him with dismay. “Not an option,” he said flatly. “That land is worth a fortune and I held on to it so you could build a home of your own one day, not as an investment for you to sell on a whim.”

“It’s not a whim, Dad. I’ve needed a goal and finally I have one.”

“You’ll regret selling it,” Jeff predicted. “Find another way.”

“I don’t want to start off mired down with loans,” Luke told him. “Please, Dad, just think about it. You’ve always said the land was to be mine. Doesn’t that suggest I should be able to do with it whatever I want to do?”

“First, tell me how you plan to weather the slow winters. Have you even considered that?”

“Of course. I’ve even discussed it with Laila and she agrees that it’s a solid plan.”

Jeff stilled at that. “You’ve told your sister-in-law about all this?”

Luke winced, his expression immediately guilty. “I did. I wanted her financial input. How could I come to you without knowing my plan was solid?”

Jeff accepted the logic of that, but he wasn’t entirely pacified. “Then I assume Matthew knows as well?”

“And Uncle Mick and Connor,” Luke admitted. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t intend for them to find out before I spoke to you, but you know how it is around this town. Uncle Mick has big eyes and even bigger ears. He saw Matthew and me on Shore Road the other night, then dragged Connor, Megan and Heather along to dinner with us. The next thing I knew, they were all in on it. I made them promise to keep quiet until I could speak to you myself.”

Jeff tried not to let his annoyance show. After all, it was true that his older brother saw everything and stuck his nose where it didn’t belong more often than not.

“And Mick approves?” he asked.

Luke nodded. “He does, but his opinion doesn’t matter more than yours, Dad. He was just there and you weren’t. I’m coming to you now.”

“But you’ve already decided to move forward, haven’t you? Other than getting me to let you sell that land, this is little more than a courtesy call.” Jeff hated that he was unable to hide his bitterness more effectively. It had always been this way between him and Mick, a rivalry that never ended, no matter their mother’s attempts to keep peace. It shouldn’t be that way between brothers—and thank God he’d avoided it happening with his sons—but he, Thomas and Mick could spar over the color of the sky.

Luke looked chagrined. “It’s not like that, Dad. Not at all. My mind has been made up for a few weeks now, since Ireland, in fact. I just wanted to get all the pieces together before I shared them with anyone. I never meant to slight you or suggest that your opinion doesn’t matter. You do know I respect you, right?”

Jeff fought off feelings that had less to do with Luke than they did with Mick, and nodded. “Of course, son. And though I have some concerns, I’ll support you in this. Whatever you need, I’m behind you. Though I want you to think long and hard before you decide to sell land that you’ll never be able to replace.”

“I promise to look for other options first,” Luke said, then gave him a sly look. “Does your backing include giving me a break on the rent for the property on Shore Road? I’m thinking a deal is in order. It’s been sitting empty for a few months now. Better to have a reliable tenant in there at a bargain price than to have prime property vacant when the summer season kicks off.”

Jeff let go of the last of his annoyance. “With clever thinking like that, you’ll do just fine, son. I’ll look over the numbers and get back to you.”

Looking relieved, Luke nodded. “Thank you.” He hesitated, then asked, “And we’re okay?”

Jeff hated that his son even had to ask. “Of course we’re okay. I’m always on your side, Luke.” Now it was his turn to hesitate. “Who’s going to do the cooking in this pub of yours? Last time I checked, your skill in the kitchen ran to frying eggs into charcoal.”

“I learned a few Irish pub recipes before I left Ireland,” Luke admitted. “And I’m counting on Gram to coach me through the rest. The customers won’t starve.”

Jeff regarded him with surprise. “You’re going to take cooking lessons from Ma?”

“Actually, I haven’t mentioned that to her just yet,” Luke said. “I’m hoping to get a few minutes with her on Sunday to see how she’d feel about it.”

“She’ll be ecstatic,” Jeff predicted, knowing how much Nell wanted someone in the family to step in and learn all the traditional dishes. “That experiment with getting the grandchildren to take over the cooking for Sunday dinners went sadly awry. Only Kevin made anything edible. Thank the Lord, Ma abandoned it before we all died of ptomaine poisoning.”

Luke grinned. “I’m hoping her reputation in town as a terrific cook will carry the day. Thankfully, no one ever had to eat anything made by those O’Brien culinary pretenders.”

Jeff laughed. “Yes, thank goodness for that.”

As he sent Luke on his way, Jeff said a little prayer for the success of his son’s dream. He knew that Luke had struggled as the youngest in a large family of overachievers. Now that Luke had finally found a vision for himself—even one that Jeff wouldn’t necessarily have chosen for him—Jeff wanted nothing more than for his son to achieve the happiness his brother, sister and cousins had found, both personally and professionally.

And, truth be told, he wouldn’t mind having a nearby place where he could indulge in a bit of Guinness from time to time, along with the nostalgia he often felt for Ireland. The taste he’d had of it with the family at Christmas had only whetted his appetite for more.

2

By the weekend, word of Luke’s plan had spread through the entire family. He’d taken his share of ribbing about his lack of culinary skills, but in general everyone had been as supportive as he could have hoped for. The only person Luke hadn’t spoken to yet was his grandmother.

He sought Nell out after the regular Sunday family dinner at his uncle Mick’s. She was in the kitchen, which everyone conceded was her domain, whether in her son’s house, where she was today, or in her own cottage up the road.

She didn’t seem the least bit surprised to find her grandson hovering there after the dishes had been washed and put away. She simply poured them each a cup of tea, then pointed to a chair.

“I understand you have big plans,” Nell said, a twinkle in her bright blue eyes. She might be in her eighties, but she had the lively curiosity and stamina of someone much younger. “I want to hear all about them.” She regarded him with amusement. “I especially want to hear these plans you have to steal all my favorite recipes.”

Luke laughed. “Not steal them,” he insisted. “I’m hoping you’ll give them to me willingly, and teach me to make them while you’re at it. Otherwise, I’ll have to hire you as my cook.”

“I’m a little too old to be embarking on a career as a chef,” she said. “But I’ll be happy to give you all the lessons you’d like.” She gave him a wink. “And perhaps come in to supervise from time to time just to be sure you’re not messing them up and ruining the family reputation.”

“Really, Gram? You’re the best!” It was even more than he’d hoped for.

“Really,” she confirmed. “Now, tell me everything.”

Luke described how the idea for the pub had come to him, all the research he’d done before coming home from Ireland, how excited he was to get started so it could be open before the official start of the summer season in Chesapeake Shores.

“I’d like it ready by late April to give me a month to work out the kinks before it gets busy in town,” he said. “But Matthew thinks I’m being overly optimistic since it’s already the end of March. Apparently he likes to take his time drawing up plans.”

“And what does Mick say?”

“He says anything can be done, at a cost.”

She laughed. “Yes, that would be Mick’s way, but I imagine he’ll find some way to do the job and give you a bargain price. He seems especially enthusiastic about this plan of yours. I think he likes the idea of having a little taste of Ireland close by.”

“Or perhaps he just likes knowing that my father isn’t wildly enthusiastic about the idea. Dad’s supportive, but he can’t hide his doubts.”

“It’s Jeff’s duty to express caution,” Nell reminded him. “No father wants to see his son make a costly mistake.” She studied him intently. “Do you have your financing?”

“That’s the big sticking point with Dad,” he admitted. “I want to sell the lot he’s been holding for me on Beach Lane next to the homes Susie and Matthew have built on theirs. Dad’s really upset about that.”

“He thinks it’s shortsighted, no doubt,” she guessed.

“Exactly.”

His grandmother nodded. “I have to agree with him, Luke,” she said, her tone gently chiding. “Not only is that land quite valuable, but it’s your legacy. I think you’ll want a home of your own by the bay one of these days when you have a family. And at the rate waterfront land is selling around here, you won’t find such a beautiful, pristine spot again.”

“That’s pretty much what Dad said.”

“You should probably listen to him.”

“A family’s a long way down the road,” Luke protested. “I can’t even think that far ahead. I have to focus all my attention on the pub for now. I think it’s going to be the key to my future.”

“Still, it doesn’t do to make a decision you’ll likely live to regret,” she said. “You may only be twenty-four, but there will come a day when the right person will come along and you’ll want to settle down.” She gave him a knowing look. “I thought perhaps you’d already found her.”

Luke gave her a startled look. “Kristen? Heavens, no!”

“I was thinking of Moira, but the fact that you didn’t mention her first is telling. Weren’t the two of you quite close while you were in Ireland?” She gave him a penetrating look. “Or was Moira just another one of your flings?”

Luke knew he needed to tread carefully. Moira was the granddaughter of a man who was important to his grandmother. He didn’t want her getting the wrong idea. Moira hadn’t been a fling, not like so many others. She’d mattered, perhaps a little too much.

“Moira’s special,” he admitted. “Had the timing been different…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she could have been the one.”

Nell regarded him with undisguised amusement. “Falling in love doesn’t necessarily adhere to the timetable we’d choose,” she suggested. “Are you in touch with her?”

“We’re exchanging emails,” he said. And she was in his head all the time, he acknowledged to himself, distracting him when he needed to stay focused. He didn’t think his grandmother needed to hear that. She’d make too much of it. “Once I have this business up and running successfully, maybe then I’ll pursue something with Moira.”

“And you expect her to be sitting there waiting patiently?” Nell asked incredulously. “Do you seriously think that’s her way? Given her temperament, you’ll be lucky if she even takes your call.”

Luke couldn’t deny the truth of that. “I’ll have to take the chance,” he said stubbornly, convinced that it was his only choice.

“That’s the second foolish thing I’ve heard from you today,” she chastised him.

Luke winced. “Moira’s not really the issue for now,” he protested, desperate to get off the uncomfortable topic and back on track. “It’s the pub. Do you approve?”

“A hundred percent,” she said at once. “Which is why you’ll take the money for it from me, rather than selling that land.”

Luke couldn’t have been more stunned if she’d offered to sprinkle him with Irish fairy dust. “Absolutely not,” he said at once. “I didn’t come to you for money.”

“I know you didn’t,” she soothed. “But hear me out. I’ve told none of the others this, but your grandfather left me in charge of trusts for all of you. The money’s been growing since each of you was born. Mick’s children had their own trusts set up by him, so they won’t receive these until I’m gone. Neither will Susie or Matthew. But I think you should have yours now. It’s not huge, mind you, but it should provide just the capital you need to get started.”

“Gram, no,” he protested again. “I won’t risk your money.”

“It’s not mine,” she corrected. “It’s yours. You’ll just be getting it while I’m still here to see you put it to good use. Use it well, and it will give me great joy.”

Luke didn’t know what to say. A part of him thought he should turn it down. Another part was relieved to have the financial issue settled in a way that would keep his father off his back about selling that land.

He studied Nell closely. “Are you sure?”

She smiled at his obvious concern. “Is this your dream?”

He nodded. “It is.”

“And you believe in it?”

“I really do.”

“Then we’ll go to see Lawrence Riley in the morning,” she told him without hesitation. “It should be easy enough to make the arrangements to transfer the money into your name.”

Luke lifted her out of her chair and spun her around, aware that she was like a feather in his arms.

“Stop that,” she said, laughing. “You’ll make me dizzy, and I’ve enough of that just standing up, thanks to this blood pressure medicine the doctor insists I take.”

Luke set her gently on her feet, then regarded her with concern. “Blood pressure medicine? Since when? I’ve never known you to take more than the occasional aspirin, Gram.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” she insisted. “And you’re not to go blabbing to everyone, or our deal is off. Is that understood?”

Luke nodded reluctantly. “You’d tell me if it was anything serious, wouldn’t you?”

He held her gaze as he asked, and she looked him straight in the eye as she said, “Of course,” but Luke didn’t believe her. It was the first time he could ever recall that his grandmother had lied to him. It scared him to death.

It was her day off and Moira had taken a dust cloth, vacuum and pail of water from the kitchen and gone to work in her grandfather’s house in Dublin. Just that morning she’d turned over to Peter all the pictures she’d taken at the pub and was awaiting his word about whether they were good enough to be hung. In the meantime, she’d needed a distraction.

She’d already scrubbed the house from top to bottom. She was in the kitchen polishing the silver when her grandfather came home for dinner. He regarded her with curiosity.

“I thought you came to stay with me because you wanted to try life in Dublin on for size, not to be my housemaid,” Dillon O’Malley said to her.

“I was bored,” she retorted, not ready to admit she was a nervous wreck because of the photos she’d given to Peter. If she was a failure at that after getting her hopes up, she didn’t want anyone knowing about it. “Don’t make too big a deal of this. It’s not likely to happen again.”

Her grandfather, never one to get to the point too quickly when there was a roundabout way to get there, poured himself a glass of Irish whiskey, looked to her and asked, “Would you like one, too?”

“No, thank you,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You can rot your insides, if you’ve a mind to, but I’ll take more care of mine.”

“I didn’t get to be this age by mistreating my insides,” Dillon retorted, amusement in his eyes. “Now, have a seat and let’s chat a bit.”

Normally, Moira would have taken the request as the perfect excuse to claim other plans and hightail it away, but tonight she had no desire to meet her friends for an evening of the same old conversation about the lousy men in their lives. The man in her life wasn’t lousy, for one thing, she thought, then sighed. If he was even in her life. She’d been a little muddy on that point since Luke had left.

So, at loose ends and restless, she sat as her grandfather had asked. He studied her with a knowing expression.

“This boredom you’re experiencing wouldn’t have anything to do with a young man who’s gone back to America now, would it?”

She regarded him with astonishment, startled that this man she barely knew could read her so easily when her own mum seemed completely oblivious to what was going on in her head.

“You think this is about Luke?” she asked.

He smiled. “Is there another young man who was taking up most of your time from the new year until just recently? I’m fairly certain I have him to thank for your moving to Dublin. Am I wrong?”

Moira sighed. “No. It’s Luke.” The pictures, for all her excitement about them, were secondary.

“You miss him,” her grandfather concluded. “I saw the way of things before he left. Did you speak of the future?”

She shook her head, oddly humiliated by the admission. “That makes me a total ninny, doesn’t it? I shouldn’t be pinning so much on a man who’s said nothing about tomorrow, much less the future.”

He laughed. “You’re hardly a ninny. Speaking about feelings, especially when a relationship is new and not fully tested, doesn’t come easily. For what it’s worth, I saw the same sparks in his eyes that I saw in yours.”

She wanted so desperately to believe him, but even she knew that sparks didn’t always lead to something more. From everything she’d heard, her mum had been totally gaga over her dad and vice versa, but their marriage had lasted only until her mum came home from the hospital with her, their third child, and apparently her dad’s breaking point. She’d seen him once or twice over the years, but there was no bond, just some shared DNA.

“Have you spoken to Luke since he left?” her grandfather asked.

“Just once. He called to let me know he’d arrived.”

Dillon frowned. “And nothing since?”

“Emails, of course, but it’s not the same as hearing his voice, if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” he admitted. “Nell’s been sending letters and postcards from Chesapeake Shores, but it’s an unsatisfying substitute. After a week or two of that, I started calling simply to hear the sound of her voice.”

Moira was surprised that he understood so well. “I imagine her letters are full of news about the family,” she suggested tentatively.

Her grandfather smiled. “She’s mentioned Luke a few times, if that’s what you’re asking. It seems he’s totally absorbed in this plan of his to open a pub.” He regarded her curiously. “You knew about that?”

“We talked about it. It’s the reason we traveled, so he could do some research.”

“Has he been keeping you up-to-date on his progress?”

“He mentions it but, to be honest, he doesn’t say much about anything. He sounds busy and distracted.” She regarded her grandfather worriedly. “Do you think I was nothing more than a passing fancy, then?” she asked, unable to keep a note of fear out of her voice. Normally, it would have taken torture for her to admit to even a hint of insecurity, but she sensed that her grandfather wouldn’t judge her. She could let down her guard with him in ways she never had with anyone else. “Will I just fade in his memory as time passes?”

Luke was the first man ever to fight through that wall she’d built around herself, the one meant to keep everyone out. He’d done it with patience, persistence and kindness, teasing her unmercifully until she’d no longer been able to maintain the angry, rebellious facade that she’d worn like a defensive cloak for most of her life. To find out it had all meant nothing would be heartbreaking.

“I don’t think that’s the kind of man he is,” her grandfather said, his expression filled with compassion. “And if he says he’s busy, I’m sure that’s the truth. Men tend to get absorbed in their work to the exclusion of all else, especially when they’re at the beginning of something. I imagine he has quite a lot at stake, not just financially, but emotionally as well. Men feel a need to prove themselves, especially in a family like his with so many high achievers.”

Moira felt reassured by the explanation. She’d been telling herself much the same thing, but wasn’t sure if she was only deluding herself. In most cases, she would have written off a man who treated her in such a cavalier way, but her stubborn, captivated heart wasn’t yet ready to give up on Luke.

Her grandfather gave her a commiserating look. “I have a thought about how we can find out.”

“What?” she inquired suspiciously. “I’m not going to ring him up and demand to know where we stand. That would be too pitiful. Why would I want someone who doesn’t want me, anyway?”

“A strong and proper stance to take,” Dillon agreed. “Add in the distance between you, and it will guarantee that you never learn the truth of things.”

She heard something in his words that stirred the faintest hint of excitement. “What are you suggesting?”

“As you know, I’m leaving in two weeks to spend some time with Nell in Chesapeake Shores, to experience her world firsthand. I was thinking it’s a long trip for a man my age to take alone, especially when there’s a lovely young woman who might like to go along.”

Moira stared at him incredulously. “You want me to go with you to America?” Her mind raced ahead at the thought, imagining Luke’s welcome, the way he’d draw her into a warm embrace. It would be her fantasy come true!

“Unless you’ve other, more important plans,” her grandfather said, his eyes twinkling. “I know you’ve just started work at the pub. And, of course, you could stay and finally take those courses you never finished because you said school was a waste of your time. If you’d prefer that, I’d back you a hundred percent, of course.”

“I was wasting my time at school,” she said at once. The thought of abandoning her job at the pub was more worrisome, especially with the possibility of getting some additional real work as a photographer on the horizon. Still, how could she resist this chance to see Luke, to find out where they stood?

“I’ll go with you,” she said decisively.

“Then it’s settled,” he said, smiling at her.

“But it’s not because of Luke,” she declared quite firmly. “It’s the chance to travel with you.”

“Of course it is,” her grandfather agreed soberly.

But even Moira couldn’t miss the disbelieving sparkle in his eyes. Nor could she deny that yet again he understood her better than anyone else ever had.

Breaking the news to Peter was harder than Moira had expected it to be, especially when his first words to her were about the photographs she’d dropped off the day before.

“They’re amazing, Moira. You’ve a real gift for this. I’ve already taken them in to be framed. They should be back and ready to hang by next week. I imagine you’ll have people ringing you up to shoot their weddings and their babies in no time at all. In fact, I showed them to Tara O’Rourke just yesterday. Her daughter’s getting married in a month, and she’s eager to hire you for the wedding pictures. And I’ve word of a baby shower, too, if you’re interested.”

She stared at him in amazement, basking in the warm glow of finally accomplishing something of which she could be proud, something even her mum couldn’t deny was a success. “Are you serious?”

He laughed at her shock. “I’m already preparing myself to lose you as a waitress in here. You won’t have time for this.”

“But I’m an amateur,” she protested, still afraid that Peter had it all wrong. Tara O’Rourke was probably just looking to keep expenses low with a first-time photographer. The same was probably true for whoever was planning that baby shower.

“You may be an amateur now, but you have an ear for listening and figuring out who people are and getting them to relax enough so you can capture it on film,” Peter said confidently. “You’ll make a career of this, if it’s what you want.”

She thought about that. Was it what she wanted? She couldn’t deny being intrigued by the possibility. How long had she waited for some hint about what her niche in life was meant to be? But why now, of all times? She couldn’t give up this chance to go to America, to see Luke again. And it was only for a month’s time.

She explained her plans to Peter. “I’m sorry. All of this came up just yesterday. I had no idea my grandfather would want me along on this trip. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime for someone like me, who’s never set foot outside of Ireland.”

“And, of course, Luke wouldn’t happen to be part of the draw, would he?” Peter asked slyly.

“He’ll be there, yes, if that’s all you’re asking.”

“And you’ll be leaving when exactly?”

“In a week. Back a month after that, so photographing the wedding’s not possible,” she said with genuine regret. Was she making a mistake turning down such an opportunity when there were no guarantees about what she’d find when she arrived in Chesapeake Shores?

She shook off her doubts. There was only this one chance to test the waters with Luke. If Peter was right, there would be more opportunities for photography.

“I’d have to know the date of the baby shower. I might be back for that,” she told him. The thought of having actual jobs lined up for her return was astonishing. What an amazing, exciting prospect!

Peter nodded. “I’ll check on that and confirm it if the date works. I imagine I’ll be needing a calendar to book all your jobs for your return,” he said. “I’ll be your official agent—how’s that?”

She grinned at his enthusiasm. “You’d do that?”

“I discovered you, didn’t I? I can’t let you lose business before you’ve even begun.”

“You won’t go crazy, though, right? Just a few jobs, till we know for sure if I’m any good at this. You could be biased, or half-blind, for all I know.”

Peter laughed. “I’m neither, Moira. Just a smart businessman, who likes to think he’s able to spot talent when he sees it. Go and have your adventure, then hurry back. Leave the rest to me.”

“Can I finish out this week?” she asked. “I’ll need some spending money for the trip.”

“Of course you can. In fact, I think Kevin’s in need of another pint and the couple in the corner are looking a bit bemused by the menu. You might stop and explain it to them.”

“Will do,” she said eagerly. She turned away with Kevin’s Guinness, then whirled back so quickly she almost spilled it. “Thank you, Peter.”

“For the work? It’s nothing.”

“For the inspiration,” she corrected, thinking of his faith in her photography. Encouragement had been rare in her life. She felt the glow of it all the way through. “I’m excited about going, but now I’m almost as excited by the prospect of coming home.”

Luke was exhausted by the end of the day. Between meetings with potential suppliers, hours in the kitchen with Gram, who’d turned out to be an exacting taskmaster, and pitching in on some of the actual construction work, he came home ready to fall directly into bed.

He forced himself to take a couple of minutes to switch on the computer, check his emails to see if there was one from Moira, then send a reply. One of these days, he vowed to take the time to sit down and call her. Judging from her increasingly terse responses, she was feeling left out and abandoned. He could hardly blame her, when the most he managed was a two-sentence capsule of his day. He knew her well enough to understand that in her mind that could easily be construed as a lack of interest. As Gram had hinted, Moira wasn’t the kind of woman to put up with neglect for long.

Tonight he managed to keep his eyes open long enough to add a line pleading with her for understanding. “I want to tell you about all of this one of these days, but right now I hardly have two minutes to myself all day long. Hopefully, this will be enough to let you know that I’m thinking about you. Be patient with me. Luke.”

He’d barely hit the send button and signed off when his cell phone rang. Without even looking at the caller ID, he knew it was Kristen. She’d grown even more impatient with him lately than Moira had. He debated letting the call go to voice mail, but knew it would only buy him one evening of peace. She’d call again tomorrow and the day after that. She might not be the love of his life, but she didn’t deserve to be ignored any more than Moira did.

“Hey, Kristen,” he said, injecting a note of forced cheer into his voice. “How are you?”

“Lonely,” she said at once. “What are you doing?”

“I just got home and I’m about to fall into bed,” he told her.

“Why not come to my place and fall into my bed?”

A few months ago, he would have eagerly taken her up on the offer. Right after he’d finished college and was at loose ends, their casual, no-strings understanding was exactly what he’d wanted in his life. Kristen had seemingly been content with it as well. He’d only grown dissatisfied after the trip to Ireland when their few days together after the family had left had felt awkward and vaguely unsatisfying, as if he were doing something wrong, rather than something mutually agreed to. That reaction had been magnified because he’d already sensed that he could have real feelings for someone else, for Moira.

Once Kristen had left Dublin and he’d stayed on, spending more and more time with Moira, he’d known that he’d have to end things with Kristen as soon as he returned to Chesapeake Shores. So far, though, he’d done nothing about the situation beyond avoiding her when he could. Yet another bit of cowardly behavior that wasn’t fair to anyone.

“Luke, have you fallen asleep with me on the line?” she asked, a mix of amusement and impatience in her voice.

“Just about, I’m afraid,” he said. “Not tonight, Kristen. I’m wiped out.”

“You’ve been wiped out a lot lately.”

“You know I’ve been totally consumed with turning this pub into a reality. It’s going to be a real crunch to pull it off on time. I’m not going to have a lot of free time for a while.”

“And then?” she asked pointedly.

He sighed. “And then we’ll see, I guess. Look, Kristen, we’ve never been exclusive. I can’t ask you to sit around and wait for my schedule to lighten up. That’s not fair to you.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this brush-off has less to do with your demanding schedule than it does with that woman you met in Ireland, the one everyone but you has mentioned. Moira, is it?”

He closed his eyes. He should have guessed someone in the family would have filled her in. Because of Kristen’s past history with Mack and her blatant attempt to win him back despite his marriage to Susie, none of the O’Briens approved of Luke’s relationship with her. They’d be all too eager to let her know he’d found someone else and dent what they considered to be her massively self-absorbed ego.

“It’s not really about Moira or anyone else,” he insisted, trying to cushion this with a half truth. “It’s about my priorities right now. Opening this pub is my first chance to prove myself. I have to stay focused and get this right. There’s no time for distractions.”

“I suppose I should be flattered that a few hours in my bed would be too great a distraction for you,” she commented wryly. “Okay, I get it, but I’ll keep in touch, Luke. Eventually, you’ll realize what you’re sacrificing and want me back.”

He realized that she had the confidence to believe every word she was saying. “Take care of yourself,” he said, rather than arguing with her.

“See you soon,” she replied, clearly undaunted.

Yes, he thought wearily, she probably would. Kristen was not the sort of woman to take rejection seriously, much less accept that it was irreversible. More’s the pity.

3

“Have I made a mistake in inviting Moira to come along?” Dillon asked Nell when he called to let her know about his change of plans.

Nell laughed. “Absolutely not. I think it’s delightfully devious. I think I’ll keep it to myself so Luke is caught completely by surprise.”

Dillon hesitated, then asked worriedly, “You don’t think he’s put her out of his head, do you? I don’t want her to get there and be humiliated.”

“I doubt that’s likely,” Nell reassured him, totally understanding his concern for his granddaughter’s feelings. “I brought up her name just the other day and, though he said he had no time for a serious relationship right now, my impression is that he’s still quite taken with her. He seems to regret the timing, but not his feelings for her. She made quite an impression from the moment he set eyes on her. We both saw that. I’m sure we can trust what we observed.”

“And that other woman—the one who visited him here in Dublin right after the rest of the family left?”

“Kristen Lewis,” she said, unable to keep the disdain out of her voice. That was one who’d cause nothing but trouble. Nell believed that her grandson was far smarter than that. “Let’s just say that Moira is far better suited for Luke than Kristen could ever be. There’s something undeniably special between them. Your granddaughter presents a challenge, just the kind Luke needs, whether he knows it or not. She won’t be easy.”

Dillon chuckled. “No, our Moira definitely won’t be easy. Her mother and I could give written testimonials to that.” He fell silent for a moment, then said, “You mentioned timing, Nell. Do you think the timing is right for this visit, for us to be pushing them together? Luke was a bit unsettled about his future when he was here. I know he has plans for a pub now, but is it only a pipe dream?”

“Oh, no, as I’ve told you in my letters, he’s perfectly serious about it,” Nell replied. “All of that wandering that he and Moira did—it had a purpose, after all. He’s even been coming over here every morning to learn how to cook some of the traditional Irish dishes.”

She laughed, thinking about how hard Luke had struggled to pay attention to careful measurements. He didn’t have the temperament or patience for it, but, God bless him, he was trying. “It’s taken more than one attempt,” she admitted, “but he mastered Irish stew yesterday.”

Dillon chuckled. “Does he have an aptitude for cooking?”

Nell sighed. “Let’s just say I expect to spend more than a few of my days over there supervising unless he breaks down and hires an experienced cook, which would be my recommendation.”

“Perhaps Moira can pitch in and help. I’ve discovered that she’s not bad in the kitchen when she takes the time to cook a meal.”

“That would definitely be a blessing,” Nell agreed. “Do you think she’d be willing?”

“I think she’ll do anything to spend time with Luke.” He hesitated. “Nell, I truly hope I’m not setting her up to have her heart broken.”

“That’s not up to either of us,” Nell responded decisively. “We’re just getting them to the playing field. They’ll decide how the game goes. Luke’s a good man, Dillon.”

“I know that. Even when the two of them were wandering about the countryside, I knew she was in safe hands.”

Nell laughed delightedly. “Oh, I can’t wait for you both to get here and to see how this plays out. For too many years, Mick’s gotten all the credit in the family for matchmaking. I want to prove that I’m just as clever at it.”

“And here I thought it was my arrival you’d be looking forward to,” Dillon chided.

“Now, that, my dear old friend,” she said, “goes without saying.”

“I’ll see you very soon, Nell. It’s only been a few months, and I already miss you even more than I did the first time you left me all those years ago. At our age we don’t have time to waste like this.”

She knew exactly what he was saying, especially since the little wake-up call she’d gotten when she’d seen her doctor. In fact, she was thinking more and more about how she wanted to spend whatever time she did have left on this earth, and it wasn’t alone.

Moira debated emailing Luke to tell him about her plans to come to Chesapeake Shores with her grandfather, but she hadn’t heard from him for three straight days. Even making allowances for how busy he was, she found that disconcerting. And annoying.

Perhaps this trip was a mistake, after all. She finally had a chance to start a real business of her own. From the moment Peter had hung her pictures, there had been even more inquiries from the customers. She’d managed one session with a baby that had gone extraordinarily well, and had spread the word about her talent even more.

With regret she’d had to turn down Tara O’Rourke’s wedding and the baby shower, because both were being held while she was to be away. After saying no, she waged an internal debate over the decision. If Luke couldn’t even send a bloody email—which he hadn’t for several days now—how much time would he have for her once she’d arrived?

Still stewing over Luke’s silence, she left the pub on her break and walked the few blocks to her grandfather’s tobacco shop.

“Don’t you look as if you just lost your best friend,” he said, studying her worriedly. “Shouldn’t you be getting excited about this trip we’re taking in a few days?”

“I’ve been reconsidering, to be honest,” she said.

“Now why on earth would you do that? The plans are all made.”

She explained about the photography gigs she was sacrificing.

“Is that the real reason, then?” her grandfather asked. “Or does it have something to do with Luke? Has he been neglecting you? It’s only a few weeks until his pub opens. It’s to be expected that he has a lot on his mind.”

“Of course you’d defend him,” she said irritably.

Her grandfather’s gaze narrowed. “And why would I do that when you’re my family and it’s your feelings that count?”

“Because he’s Nell’s precious grandson,” she said, though she knew better. As he’d said, his first loyalty would always be to her. She might not have known that over the years when he and her mother had been estranged, but he’d proved it time and again recently. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I know better.”

“I hope you do,” he chided. “I just don’t want to see you get in your own way by stirring up problems when there are none. Have you told Luke you’re coming to Chesapeake Shores?”

She shook her head. “I thought it might be best to surprise him.”

“I agree, and I say we need to stick with that plan, unless you’ve decided he no longer matters quite so much to you.”

The problem, of course, was that he mattered too much. “What if we get there and he has no interest in spending time with me?” she asked, then held up a hand. “And before you ask, that’s not the same as having no time to spend with me.”

“I believe I know the difference,” he said, his expression amused.

“Well, what do I do then? Leave?”

“And give the man the satisfaction of having run you off on your very first trip to America?” he asked incredulously. “That’s surely not the Moira I know.”

She laughed. “No, it’s surely not,” she said. “I’m letting myself be defeated before I even know whether there’s to be a fight.” She sobered and looked into her grandfather’s eyes. “Does love make all of us just a little crazy?”

“You wouldn’t be the first to lose sight of who you truly are,” he admitted. “But I’ll be right there to remind you. I doubt you’ll stay lost for long. Keep in mind the woman that Luke chose to spend all that time with during his stay in Ireland. She captured his fancy. I feel certain she’ll do so again.”

Moira wished she were as confident of that. She was already in her twenties, but she swore that sometimes she felt as if she were no more than an unsophisticated sixteen-year-old country girl. That had never been more true than when she’d gotten a glimpse of the older woman who’d flown over to Ireland to be with Luke for a few days right after the family had left.

Luke had readily explained who Kristen was, explained how they’d come to be together and dismissed any notion that she meant anything to him. Moira had accepted his explanation because it was what she’d wanted to believe. What if things had changed now that he was back on Kristen’s turf? That was something else she had to worry about as she counted down the days till her flight.

At this rate she was going to be a complete basket case before she landed on American soil.

Luke was up to his elbows in flour, and making a real mess of things in Gram’s kitchen when his brother walked in. Matthew, blast him, burst out laughing.

“Oh, how I wish I had a camera right now,” Matthew said. “This is a picture that needs to hang above the bar at O’Brien’s once the doors open.” His expression brightened. “Aha, look what I have.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and snapped away.

“Bite me,” Luke said.

“Watch your tongue, young man,” Gram said, then turned to Matthew. “And if you don’t intend to be helpful, you can leave.”

Matthew regarded her with shock. “You’d kick me out? You’ve never thrown me out of your house before, no matter how badly I misbehaved.”

“You’re all grown up now and should know better than to tease your brother,” she scolded.

“But giving Luke grief makes my life so much more enjoyable,” Matthew said.

“Let him stay,” Luke said as he tried to work the dough into the proper consistency for the scones his grandmother claimed were a necessity if he was to offer afternoon tea. He scowled at her now. “Are you absolutely certain I need to bake scones?”

“Afternoon tea is a ritual that will appeal to a lot of the women in town,” she replied. “You want to draw the largest possible customer base, don’t you? And everyone in Chesapeake Shores knows I make the best scones. They sell out at every bake sale and church bazaar. Yours need to reflect my teaching so you don’t embarrass me.”

He sighed and kept kneading, then glanced at his brother, who still hadn’t wiped the amused expression off his face as he busily emailed the pictures to the family grapevine. “Why are you here, aside from a desire to torment me?”

“I wanted to let you know that the shipping company called. The bar will be here day after tomorrow.”

Luke stilled. “Will we be ready to install it?”

Matthew shook his head. “I’m trying to stall them for at least another couple of days. If the piece is as old as you say, we don’t want it getting damaged while we’re still under construction.”

“What did they say?”

“They’ll try to work with us, but they say it’s huge and they’ll need to send it when they have the right truck available.” He gave Luke a concerned look. “Did you actually measure it?”

Luke stilled. “Not exactly.”

“You either did or you didn’t,” Matthew said impatiently. “Listening to this guy talk, I got the impression of really, really big. That’s not a size that’s going to fit across the back of the room.”

“It’ll fit,” Luke said grimly. “It has to.”

“I’d feel better if you had the measurements to back that up.”

“Then I’ll drive to the port in Baltimore and get them,” Luke said grimly, heading for the sink to wash his sticky, flour-coated hands.

Gram gestured for him to return to the task at hand, then turned a pointed look on his brother. “Or Matthew could call this man back and ask him to take the measurements,” she said, then added, “Since you’re so worried about it, shouldn’t you have asked when you had him on the phone?”

Matthew leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You always took Luke’s side over mine. It’s because he’s the youngest, isn’t it? You love him best.”

Gram rolled her eyes. “Nonsense, and I am not taking anyone’s side. I’m just trying to get these scones made so they’re edible. Right now your brother is trying to pound that dough into submission.”

Luke sighed. “I think baking may be beyond me, Gram.”

“Nothing is beyond you,” she insisted. “Start over.”

Luke stared at her. “You want me to start from scratch?”

“Only way I know to learn,” she said blithely. “Matthew, if you intend to stick around, put on an apron and get busy. It wouldn’t hurt you to learn how to make something. You never know when Luke will need backup in the kitchen. In this family we pull together in a crisis, no matter what kind it is.”

“But that’s why he has you,” Matthew protested, already heading for the door. “Love you, Gram. Good luck with those scones, Luke. I’ll go make that call.”

Luke wished he had the nerve to go after his brother, but he was the one who’d asked for these cooking lessons. Gram clearly intended to see that he was a master Irish chef before she was through with him. He gave her a plaintive look now.

“Isn’t there some way to salvage this dough?” he asked.

She shook her head. “It’ll be too tough. Bake up a few and compare them. You’ll see what I mean.” She picked up a catalog that had come in the mail and fanned herself.

Luke regarded her worriedly. “Are you okay?”

“Just a little warm,” she said, her breath hitching slightly, as if she couldn’t quite catch it. “It’s sitting in here with the oven on. I should have opened the windows first.”

“I’ll do it,” Luke said at once, then took another look at her flushed cheeks. “Are you sure that’s all it is, Gram? You seem a little short of breath.”

She gave him a defiant look. “Don’t be ridiculous. Now get back to work. I don’t have all day to spend on this. I have preparations of my own to make. There will be a crowd here in a few days to welcome Dillon to town. I want to get most of the food done early, so I’ll be able to relax and enjoy the party.”

“You know everyone would be happy to pitch in and help,” he protested. “Don’t wear yourself out.”

“We both know there’s not another soul in this family who cooks as well as I do,” she countered. “And I won’t have Jess asking Gail at the inn to cater a meal for us, not on Dillon’s first night in town.” She gave him a wry look. “And though you’re improving, you’re not up to the task yet, either.”

Luke smiled at her. “You’re really looking forward to his visit, aren’t you?”

This time he had the feeling that the blush in her cheeks had nothing to do with being overheated. “I am,” she admitted. She hesitated, then said, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to do everything in my power to convince him to stay right here,” she said, defiant sparks in her eyes. “I imagine Mick will have a thing or two to say about that, but it’s my decision. And Dillon’s, of course.”

Luke knew his own surprise was nothing compared to the tizzy Uncle Mick would have over this news. He tried to tread carefully. “Have you and Dillon already discussed it? I thought the plan was for you both to travel back and forth.”

“Plans sometimes have to change,” she said, her voice turning sad. “I think Christmas was probably my last visit to Ireland.”

Once again Luke had the sense that there was much more to the story that she wasn’t telling him. “Gram, what’s going on?”

After only the faintest flicker of despondency on her face, something so brief he couldn’t even be sure he’d seen it, her expression brightened. “Not a thing,” she said. “I’m just being realistic. It’s a long way to go at my age.”

“Are you sure Dillon will want to pack up and leave the life he’s always known?”

“I’m certain of only one thing,” she said, giving him a pointed look. “The only way to know a thing like that is to ask, and I intend to do just that. It’s advice you might consider taking to heart.”

Though the obvious inference would have been to assume she was talking about the call she’d advised him to make to determine the measurements of the bar, Luke knew better. It was her subtle way of reminding him not to wait too long to ask Moira to be a part of his life.

What bothered him wasn’t that she’d made the suggestion, but the urgency he sensed behind it and behind her own plan to invite Dillon to stay. Something was wrong, and he knew in his gut he needed to find out what it was. What he didn’t know was how he was going to pull that off without offending his grandmother’s independent spirit.

Everyone in the family credited Jo O’Brien with being the most practical, sensible O’Brien aside from Nell. Luke was still in awe of how well his mother had handled Susie’s ovarian cancer and kept everyone else from falling apart. He concluded that she was his best bet to get to the bottom of what was going on with his grandmother.

She was easy enough to track down. After school, where she was both a teacher and a women’s track coach, she was usually at practice with her team. Luke found her standing at the edge of the track with a stopwatch in one hand and a whistle in the other. With her hair caught up in a messy ponytail and dressed in jeans and a hoodie on the cool early May afternoon, she looked little older than her students.

“Hey, Mom!” he called out as he joined her.

Barely taking her eyes off the track for more than a split second, she gave him a smile. “What brings you by? I thought you were swamped getting the pub ready to open.”

“I am, but I need to talk to you. Can you spare a couple of minutes? If not now, could you drop by the pub when you’re finished here?”

She must have heard something in his voice, because she blew her whistle to get the attention of the girls. “That’s it, ladies. It was a good practice. Take your showers and head on home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When they were finally on their way, she gestured toward the bleachers, then followed Luke over. “What’s up?”

“I’m worried about Gram,” he blurted. “Something’s going on with her, and I don’t think she’s told anyone about it.”

His mother regarded him with surprise. “Are you sure? She’s seemed fine to me when I’ve seen her the past few Sundays.”

“She can put on a good show for a couple of hours,” he said. “I’ve been spending more time with her lately. She’s said a couple of things. When I called her on one of them, she told me I wasn’t to blab.”

“And yet here you are,” Jo said. “Since I know you wouldn’t break your word lightly, what exactly has happened?”

He told her about the casual mention of blood pressure medicine, then today’s incident, when Nell had seemed overheated and short of breath. “It doesn’t sound like much when I say it, but that’s not all. She was talking about wanting Dillon to stay on here, about not being able to make another trip to Ireland herself. She sounded—I don’t know—resigned or something.”

To his relief—yet in a way his regret—his mother didn’t laugh off his concerns. “That doesn’t sound like Nell,” she conceded. “You’re right about that. When we got back from Ireland, all she could talk about was the next trip over there.”

“Will you speak to her? Maybe she’ll open up to you.”

“Nell’s not going to open up to anyone unless she wants them to know what’s going on. It’s not her way. I will keep closer tabs on her and, if I sense that it’s necessary, I’ll get your father, Mick and Thomas to look into it.”

“Do you really want to get them all worked up, especially Mick? You know how he is. He’ll haul her off to Johns Hopkins to be checked out whether she wants to go or not.”

His mother laughed. “He would, wouldn’t he? Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. She has a lot going on right now. I’m sure she’s overly tired with all this planning for Dillon’s visit. I’ll go by this afternoon and offer to help.” When Luke started to protest, she held up a hand. “I know she won’t let me near her kitchen, but she might let me dust and vacuum for her.”

Luke nodded. “I should have thought of that. The kitchen could use a good scrubbing, too. I offered to do it before I left this morning, but she told me she had her own ways of doing things.”

“She didn’t get to this age by not being independent and stubborn, like the rest of the O’Briens,” Jo said.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Luke responded.

She squeezed his hand. “It’s a good trait some of the time. Thanks for telling me about this. It’s good she has you around so much right now. I know she’s enjoying these lessons. Last Sunday at Mick’s, your progress—or lack thereof—was all she could talk about while we were in the kitchen cleaning up.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Today might have tested her limits,” he said, explaining about the mess he’d made of two batches of scones. “If she offers you one, I’d advise against taking it unless it comes with an affidavit that it’s one she baked.”

Jo laughed. “Trust me, if yours were that awful, they’re in the trash by now or she’s fed them to the birds.”

“Poor robins,” Luke said with a shake of his head.

“You’ll get the knack of it. I believe in you. So does Nell. I can hardly wait to see how the pub is coming along.”

“Stop by anytime,” he said, though he’d been discouraging visitors. He wanted the family to be wowed by the finished product.

“I’ll wait,” she said. “I know you want to knock all our socks off on opening night. Have you set the date?”

“Tentatively,” he confessed. “I’d like to open before Dillon goes home again. He made a lot of introductions for me in Ireland. I’d like him to see how much they helped.”

“Oh, he’ll love that,” she said, then gave him a sly look. “Shouldn’t you be inviting Moira over for the grand opening as well? She played a role in this, too, didn’t she?”

The thought had occurred to Luke more than once, but he’d vetoed it. As much as he’d like to have Moira here to share the big opening, a part of him was afraid she might make too much of the invitation. He didn’t want to send any more mixed signals than he already had.

No, when he invited Moira to come to Chesapeake Shores, it would be because he was ready for more than a date to a party, albeit the most important party of his life.

4

“Chesapeake Shores is a long way to go chasing after a man,” Kiera said when she learned of Moira’s trip. “You’ll only be disappointed.”

Moira regarded her mother with annoyance. “Thank you for the support. Are you sure it’s not that you’re jealous that Grandfather is taking me and not you?”

She saw that she’d hit the mark by the tightening of her mother’s lips. Surprisingly, Moira felt bad about it, which proved just how much her attitude toward her mum had changed now that she’d finally put some distance between them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you of such a thing.”

Kiera sighed. “It’s never wrong to speak the truth,” she said, sounding weary. “I suppose I am a wee bit jealous that you have this chance and I don’t.” She held Moira’s gaze. “But my concern for you is genuine. I don’t want you to go over there with high expectations about what will happen when you and Luke are reunited. Men like Luke move on at a whim.”

“The way Dad did?” Moira said, understanding with unexpected clarity exactly where the concern came from—her mother’s own experience.

“Yes, as your father did,” Kiera said, her usual bitterness giving way to what almost sounded like sorrow.

Moira hesitated then asked the question she’d never dared to utter before. “Was it me? Was I too much for him?”

Kiera looked startled. “Is that what you think?” she asked in dismay. “That your father left because of you?”

“It’s what I’ve always believed,” Moira admitted. The timing of his departure could hardly allow for any other conclusion.

“Oh, my darling girl, it had nothing to do with you,” Kiera said at once. “It was all of it—the pressure of me wanting more and more for our children, a job he hated, needing to come home at night rather than spending his time and money in a pub. He wasn’t meant to be a family man. He liked things easy. In truth, the only surprise wasn’t that he left, but that it took him so long.”

Moira felt an odd sense of relief at that, but then thought about what her mum had actually revealed. She couldn’t help wondering if the same mind-set applied to Luke. It was hardly the first time such a thought had crossed her mind.

“Does Luke remind you of Dad?” she asked. “Is that really why you’re so worried about my going over there?”

To her dismay, her mother nodded. “I see some similarities, yes. And hearing that’s he’s opening a pub?” She shook her head. “It brings back too many memories of the pull such places had for your father.”

“Was Dad a drinker, then?” Moira asked.

Her mother nodded. “He had a problem. I didn’t see it when we met, because all our friends liked to have a pint or two and enjoy the music on a Friday or Saturday night. It was only later, after we were married, that he spent more and more time with his mates and came home reeling. I can’t tell you how often we argued about it. Ask your brothers. They’re old enough to remember some of it, I’m sure, though we’ve never spoken of it.”

“And isn’t that our way?” Moira said with a touch of bitterness. “To never speak of the things that matter? How many years did it take before you even acknowledged we had grandparents living in Dublin? It was only when your mother became ill and Grandfather came looking for you that we discovered we had family.”

Kiera sighed heavily. “You’re right again,” she conceded. “I’m sorry.”

Moira found herself apologizing as well. “But Luke’s not like Dad in that way—a drinker, I mean,” she said earnestly. “I know he’s not. In all that time we spent together and in so many different pubs, he rarely had anything to drink. He was totally focused on his research. It wasn’t about the drinking, not at all.”

“He wouldn’t be the first man to open a pub so he’d have a ready excuse for being around alcohol,” Kiera said.

Though Moira understood that it was Kiera’s own experiences that had shaped her opinion, Moira still found it worrisome. She believed her defense of Luke and seized on Peter McDonough to prove it. “I’ve never seen Peter lift even a pint of ale during the course of an evening,” she said. “How long has he owned that pub? Twenty years? Even longer?”

“Peter’s a paragon, he is,” Kiera said wryly. “Your grandfather has told me that often enough.”

Moira couldn’t hide her shock at the innuendo. “Grandfather has been encouraging something between you and Peter? For how long?”

“Since I was in my teens,” Kiera admitted. “He was cited as the epitome of respectability, which I stupidly ignored in my pursuit of rebellion. Now that my marriage is over, his name is dropped into the conversation every chance your grandfather can find. Didn’t you notice how many times it was suggested we drop in at McDonough’s over the holidays?”

Moira tried to imagine a romance between her mother and Peter. Surprisingly, she could see it, though she wasn’t sure she could explain just why. Maybe it had to do with Peter’s easygoing nature, his willingness to meet people as they were and enjoy their company. Had he spent more time than usual hovering over the family when they’d made those holiday stops? Had the extra attention been about more than respect for her grandfather? As Luke had done with Moira, Peter had certainly been able to ignore Kiera’s stubborn testiness and find ways to coax her into laughter. He’d even gotten her onto the dance floor a time or two, fighting off her reluctance with teasing determination.

“Peter’s been very kind to me,” she said, testing to see her mother’s reaction.

Kiera frowned. “In what way?”

Moira explained about the photos. “Maybe you could come by while I’m at work tonight and see them for yourself.”

“Peter says they’re good?” Kiera asked.

Moira nodded. “And the proof seems to be that people have been showing an interest in hiring me. I’ve already had one job, and more are lined up for my return from this trip with Grandfather. Enough that I might not have to wait tables for too much longer.”

“Then why on earth would you pick now to leave town?” Kiera asked, looking more animated and approving than usual. “Shouldn’t you stay right here and make the most of this opportunity? You’ve been talking about photography for years. I thought nothing would ever come of it.”

“I honestly didn’t know how to make anything happen,” Moira said. “But Peter did. And he says this trip won’t harm anything. He’ll keep track of any potential bookings for me. Please, Mum, come by and take a look.”

“Of course I will,” she said.

Moira nodded. It would give her the chance to see if there were any sparks there between her mum and Peter, sparks that could be fanned a bit.

Kiera gave her a knowing look. “Don’t be getting any ideas,” she warned. “This is about looking at your pictures and only that.”

“I understand,” Moira replied dutifully.

“I don’t need you joining your grandfather in meddling in my life.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Moira said.

But the truth was, she thought maybe her mum was protesting just a little too much. Surely, after all these years of being a struggling single mother, Kiera wasn’t totally immune to the possibility of love.

Dillon had had his share of surprises through the years, but none had startled him more than the invitation by his granddaughter to join her and his daughter at McDonough’s pub on the evening before their departure for Chesapeake Shores.

“What’s this about?” he asked Moira when she called. “Usually it takes all my persuasive skills to get your mum to set foot inside that place.”

“There’s the lure of seeing some of my photos on the walls,” Moira told him. “I’d like you to see them, too. I know you’ve been too busy to stop in since Peter hung them up.”

He heard the hint of nervousness in her voice and knew these pictures meant more to her than she wanted him to know. “Peter’s told me about them, you know. He thinks you’ve a real gift.”

“He’s told you that?” she asked, sounding pleased.

“And he wouldn’t lie to an old friend,” Dillon reassured her. “Nor would he say anything to you if he didn’t have faith in your work. I’ll be looking forward to seeing them for myself. I only wish you’d expressed an interest in this a long time ago. I would have encouraged you.”

“Things happen when they’re meant to,” she replied. “Isn’t that what you’ve told me about you and Nell reuniting after all these years?”

“True enough.”

She fell uncharacteristically silent, which encouraged him to ask, “Was there something else on your mind?”

“Is it true that you’ve been matchmaking between my mum and Peter?”

Dillon chuckled. “Ah, she told you that, did she? It’s true. I always thought they were well suited. Of course, that was the kiss of death back when they were young. If I said there was a pot of gold to the north, your mum would head south just to spite me.”

Moira laughed. “And you think she’s changed?”

“No, which is why I’ll be keeping my mouth firmly shut tonight,” he said. “If there’s any matchmaking to be done, I’ll leave it to you.”

“I can see it, too,” she confessed. “That they’d be good together. Wouldn’t it be lovely if something came of it after all this time?”

“It would,” Dillon agreed. “Your mother deserves to find some happiness. She wasn’t always bitter and sad the way she’s been since your dad took off.”

“I know. I see glimpses of it from time to time. Do you suppose she and I can make peace?” she asked, her tone plaintive.

“She and I have,” he said. “So there’s always hope. We’ll see if tonight can give us a start on that.”

In fact, he vowed to do his part to give things a push in that direction. He had a feeling that if Moira was to find her own happiness—with Luke or someone else—she needed to believe she was worthy of love. Circumstances and Kiera’s own bitterness had done their part to rob her of that self-confidence. It was past time to fix that, too. For a man his age, it seemed he still had a lot to accomplish.

Peter refused to let Moira wait on a single table while her mother and grandfather were in the pub.

“Enjoy your family,” he said. “Bask in their admiration.”

She would have, but she was too nervous. As Dillon and Kiera circled the room, pausing in front of the photos, Moira waited behind the bar, polishing mugs despite Peter’s best efforts to get her to stop hiding out. She couldn’t help noticing that Peter seemed almost as anxious about their reactions as she was.

“Well?” he prodded, when they finally headed back toward the bar. “Is she as amazing as I think?”

“I’m stunned,” Kiera said, a smile on her face. “Moira, they’re truly remarkable.”

Moira flushed at the praise. “Do you mean that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t,” her mother insisted, then glanced briefly at Peter. “Thank you for encouraging her.” She looked away almost the instant the words were out of her mouth.

“It’s been my pleasure,” Peter said, his gaze on Kiera steady, despite her doing her best to avoid it. “I would have done the same for anyone, but it’s meant more that it was your daughter I was helping.”

The color in her mother’s cheeks heightened at his words. So, Moira thought, her mum wasn’t immune to him, after all.

She slipped out from behind the bar and tucked her arm through her grandfather’s, then steered him away from the others to stand in front of one of the photos. “You haven’t said much.”

“You’ve left me speechless,” he admitted. “I feel as if I know those people, not as I always have, but as if I’ve had a glimpse inside them. This is more than a hobby, Moira. You’ve a talent you should be nurturing.”

Tears stung her eyes. “You have no idea what it means to me to have you say that. I’m almost starting to believe I could make a go of this.”

“Then it’s something you truly want?”

She nodded. “I’ve never allowed myself to believe it could happen. I was always the screwup, the rebellious one, not suited for anything I was learning in school. I talked a bit to Jess O’Brien about that feeling when she was here. She said she’d felt much the same way till she opened her inn.” She met his gaze. “I think, in some ways, it’s the same with Luke and his pub.”

“I think it is,” her grandfather agreed. “If you can understand that and give him the room to mature and grow, I think he’ll do the same for you. You’ll build your future together, one with room for both your gifts.”

Moira looked around the pub at the photos on the walls, noted the way people were admiring them and felt a warm glow of satisfaction, but something else as well. This faint possibility of a career—this hope she was feeling—it was here, in Dublin, while Luke was across the ocean.

As if he’d read her mind, her grandfather smiled at her. “There are people to photograph in America, too,” he said quietly. “If this is what you were meant to do and Luke is the man you’re meant to be with, you’ll find a way. Believe in that.”

Moira nodded, wanted to believe, but over the years there’d been very little reason to have faith in herself. Suddenly the trip that she’d agreed to with one goal was about so much more.

Luke was standing amid wood shavings, drawing in the scent of paint and wondering if he’d been out of his mind to think he could create an Irish pub in barely more than a month. He’d trusted it to his brother and his uncle, but right at the moment all he could detect was chaos. Only the handsome sign that was meant to go above the door out front—O’Brien’s written in the almost traditional raised gold letters against a dark green background—was ready.

The massive bar, the one he’d salvaged from a town in the countryside miles from Dublin, would be delivered tomorrow, assuming he dared to put it into place in this construction zone. It might be better off being left in the alley behind the building. Matthew was still grumbling about the tight fit it was going to be. There’d be barely inches to spare once it was in place across the back of the room. If Luke gained even a few ounces, he’d be squeezing past to make his way to the office in back. Thank goodness the doorway to the kitchen was off to the side. Otherwise, a waiter with a tray would be tempting fate each time he came and went.

For the past three weeks, he’d been in here every minute, working alongside his uncle’s crew, testing the limits of his own skills with a hammer and paintbrush. Even his father had pitched in once or twice, though that help usually came with another well-meant cautionary lecture Luke didn’t especially want to hear.

He was on the phone in the tiny space he’d set aside for an office when he looked up and saw Kristen making her way through the bar. In her spike heels, designer suit and flashing gold-and-diamond jewelry, she looked as out of place in here as he felt at those fancy Baltimore parties she’d dragged him to from time to time.

“You shouldn’t be wandering around in here without a hard hat,” he told her, not entirely glad to see her. She’d made her opinion of “this little project of yours” well-known. She hadn’t been delighted about it. She thought running a bar was beneath him. It was one of the few heated arguments they’d ever had. Usually they discussed nothing else worth fighting about. In Luke’s opinion, the handwriting was on the wall about their future…or lack thereof. Hadn’t he made that clear the last time they’d spoken?

“Since you’re spending all your time here these days, I thought you could show me around,” she said, then took in the room, her expression dubious. “There’s not much to see, is there?”

“It’s coming along,” he said defensively. “I can show you the plans if you’d like to take a look.”

“I’d rather you take me to Brady’s for dinner,” she said.

He shook his head before the words were out of her mouth. “I can’t. Sorry. I have to go to Gram’s tonight. Dillon’s arriving from Ireland, and she expects the family to drop by.”

Kristen looked skeptical. “Will all of you even fit in that little cottage of hers?”

“We’ll fit well enough,” Luke told her.

She watched him intently, obviously waiting for an invitation he had no intention of extending. Eventually, she sighed.

“Still not welcome on O’Brien turf,” she said wryly. “Is that ever likely to change?”

“I don’t know,” he told her candidly. “You did try to break up my sister’s marriage. Susie can hold a grudge with the best of them, and I can promise you there’s no one in the family who’s unlikely to take her side.”

She frowned at his observation. “Then what are we doing, Luke?”

“What we’ve always been doing,” he replied candidly. “Enjoying each other’s company when it suits both of us.”

“What if that’s not enough anymore?”

He’d been wondering the same thing, though for slightly different reasons, he suspected. “We talked about this the other night. It’s time for you to move on. You don’t want more from me, Kristen. You know you don’t.”

She held his gaze, then sighed. “I thought I might.”

“Only because you knew it wasn’t in the cards,” he said with certainty. “Find someone you can fall in love with, someone who won’t have all these obstacles to overcome.”

“You’re the only interesting game in town,” she said, her expression surprisingly sad.

He laughed at that. “You know that’s not true. It was just easier not to look because I was right there. And I think you thought it might make my brother-in-law a little crazy to know we were hooking up. It’s always had more to do with your feelings for Mack than it has with me.”

“You’re wrong about that! It had nothing to do with Mack,” she said, bristling even though they both knew the truth. She stood a little straighter, her pride obviously kicking in. “Okay, then. It’s time to move on.” She gave him a wickedly bold look. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll see if I can still fit you into my schedule.”

“I don’t think I’ll count on that,” he said with total sincerity. “I imagine someone will snap you up the second they know you’re available. You just have to get out there and mingle. I could—”

“If you offer to fix me up with someone, I’ll have to kill you now,” she said.

Luke laughed. “Okay, then, no matchmaking. I’m probably no good at it, anyway.”

She stepped closer, leaned in and kissed his cheek. Then she shifted to capture his mouth in a move that normally aroused a sizzle in his bloodstream. Today, though, he seemed to be immune, and she obviously felt it. She sighed as she stepped away.

“Take care, Luke. It’s been fun.”

“It has been,” he agreed, relieved to have it officially over, relieved they were parting with no scenes or recriminations. To his mind, that meant it had never amounted to much to either of them in the first place. This was good.

What he couldn’t explain—or didn’t want to—was why he seemed to have this great big empty hole in his heart. He had a hunch it had more to do with the woman across the ocean than it did with the one who’d just left his arms.

Moira was so excited about being in a country far, far away from her familiar little corner of Ireland that she couldn’t quite decide where to look first. Baltimore’s traffic was no more chaotic than Dublin’s, though it seemed so as they raced along on what seemed to her to be the wrong side of the road. She’d been delighted to know that Mick O’Brien would be escorting Nell to the airport to pick them up. She was sure all the commotion wouldn’t faze such a man in the least. She found Mick and his larger-than-life personality fascinating, albeit slightly intimidating.

Riding in the front with Mick while her grandfather rode in back with Nell, Moira had a million questions, but found she didn’t need to utter a one of them. Mick provided a running commentary as they drove south, eventually making their way onto narrower roads and then to the community of Chesapeake Shores itself. Her first view of the bay, seen at the end of Main Street in a charming downtown, immediately captured her fancy and reminded her of villages back home.

“It’s like home,” she exclaimed with delight. “Yet it has a unique look of its own, brighter and a bit more modern and up-to-date.” She turned to him with amazement. “And you created this, the whole town, from nothing?”

“I did,” Mick confirmed.

“And is it Matthew that I remember is following in your footsteps?”

“One of these days he’ll be even better than I am,” Mick confided, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

She took in everything—Bree O’Brien’s Flowers on Main with its buckets of brilliant bouquets on the sidewalk, the quaint bookstore she learned belonged to Shanna O’Brien, Mick’s daughter-in-law, a boutique called Seaside Gifts and, at the end of the block, a store with a hodgepodge of things for every vacationer called Ethel’s Emporium. They all faced a town green brightened with beds of red tulips and a few stray leftover daffodils from earlier in the spring.

“Where are Megan’s art gallery and Heather’s quilt shop?” she asked Mick as she gazed eagerly out the window.

“Just around the corner on Shore Road,” he told her. “You can come into town tomorrow for the complete tour. For now, though, I’m sure your grandfather would like to get to Ma’s so he can rest a bit before everyone descends for drinks and dinner a bit later. If you’re not in need of rest, I’ll take you for a walk along the bay, if you’d like. You’ll begin to get your bearings.”

“That would be perfect,” she said with delight. “I’m far too excited to sleep.”

Though she wanted desperately to ask if Luke would be at tonight’s gathering, she held back. She’d heard tales about Mick’s meddling. It was probably best if he remained in the dark about her real reasons for making this trip. Not that there was much question that he’d already have his suspicions.

As he turned off the road into a narrow driveway, she couldn’t seem to suppress her delighted gasp of pleasure. It was like coming upon a doll’s cottage by the edge of the sea. The yard was filled with flowers just beginning to bud. A white picket fence with climbing roses tumbling over it surrounded the yard and created a colorful backdrop against the bay just beyond. She had to admit, it looked exactly like something Nell would have created—warm, cozy and inviting. She turned to tell her that and caught her grandfather holding Nell’s hand. He winked at her.

“So, what do you think, Moira? Is Chesapeake Shores the way we described it for you?” Nell asked.

“It’s wonderful,” she admitted. “And your house is like something from a storybook. I think I’ve fallen in love with it straight off. You’ve a great talent for gardening as well.”

Nell regarded her with real pleasure. “Thank you. I hope you’ll see it in summer when everything’s in full bloom. And I truly hope you and your grandfather will be comfortable here.”

“Of course we will,” her grandfather said at once. “And we thank you for having us.”

“It was very generous of you to include me,” Moira told her.

Mick made quick work of getting their things inside. Though Nell offered her tea, Moira declined. “Mick said he’d show me the way to the beach, if that’s all right.”

“Of course it is,” Nell said. “While you’re here, you’re to go and come as you like. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing little enough of you after tonight’s party.”

Moira gave her a quizzical look, but didn’t respond. Had her grandfather told Nell that she was here because of Luke? She sighed. Of course he had. Or Nell had put two and two together for herself. With them there was little point in denying her reasons for making this trip.

What remained in question was how Luke would react when he discovered that she’d invaded his turf. For one fleeting second, panic made her wish she was back in Dublin, serving pints of ale at McDonough’s or launching that photography career at full throttle.

But then she thought of Luke, of the way he’d looked at her, the way he’d touched her and held her, and her heart raced with anticipation. Tonight’s party couldn’t begin soon enough.

5

Luke was late. He’d gotten totally absorbed in completing the painting of the wall that would be behind the bar, twice changing his mind about the color. The foreman Uncle Mick had put on the job had finally lost patience with it and told him to work it out in his head, then do it himself or leave it till morning. He could hardly blame the man. He suspected that Mick himself would have said far worse.

In the end, he’d raced home, showered and changed and was now walking up the driveway at Gram’s over an hour after most of the others had arrived. In fact, several of his cousins who had small children were already leaving.

“Someone’s in trouble!” Connor called out in a singsong taunt as he and Luke crossed paths.

“Stop it!” Heather told her husband. “Don’t be spoiling the surprise.”

“Heather’s right,” Shanna said just as Kevin looked as if he was going to add his own comment. “Quiet, both of you!”

Luke looked from one man to the other. Weren’t cousins, especially guys, supposed to stick together? “What am I missing?” he asked them.

“The party,” Shanna said firmly, scowling first at Kevin, then at Connor, apparently to ensure their silence. “But you already know that, so you’d better hurry.”

Connor grinned at the direct order, but Kevin merely shrugged as if he had zero control over his wife.

“Sorry, man,” he muttered as he passed Luke.

As Luke got closer to the house, he heard noise coming from the backyard, so rather than going inside, he walked around the side of the house.

“There you are!” Mick boomed in a way that was far more welcoming than usual. “It’s about time.”

Luke frowned. “Why is everyone making such a fuss because I’m a little late?” he asked just as the crowd seemed to magically part, leaving him with a clear view of his grandmother, Dillon and, at Dillon’s side, Moira. Luke’s heart seemed to come to a complete stop in his chest as she met his gaze, her expression a familiar mix of defiance and fear. He knew that look all too well. She was scared to death about his reaction, but trying hard to pretend otherwise.

Luke crossed the lawn, unable to take his eyes off her. “You,” he said softly. “You’re here!”

“So I am,” she said, her gaze searching his face. “Are you pleased?”

“Stunned, as a matter of fact.” Her eyes clouded at his words, so he quickly added, “In a good way, Moira. In a very good way.”

In fact, it was just about the best surprise he could ever recall…and that flat-out terrified him.

Her lips slowly curved into a smile at his words. “Well, I suppose that’s a warmer welcome than I gave you on the night we met in Dublin.”

Luke laughed. “There was no welcome,” he reminded her. “You’d have been pleased if I’d turned right around and left for the hotel. In fact, you did your best to see that not only I, but all of us, did just that.”

“My manners and my disposition have improved since then,” she told him. “Though I have a few things to say to you about yours.”

Luke winced. “I know I’ve been neglecting you.”

“And me,” Dillon said, interceding. “It’s good to see you again, Luke.”

Luke shook the older man’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here, sir. Gram’s been looking forward to the visit ever since we got back.” He turned to his grandmother. “And you,” he chided. “I assume you knew about the surprise.”

“Of course I did. Dillon and I worked it all out and kept it to ourselves. I must admit I could hardly wait to see your reaction.” She smiled at him. “It told me quite a lot.”

“Gram,” he warned, only to have her wave him off.

“Moira, why don’t you go with Luke to fill a plate? I’m sure he’s starving.” She gave him a chiding look. “Though there’s little guarantee that there will be much left to choose from at this hour.”

“I’m sorry I was late,” he apologized.

“And even sorrier now that you know who awaited you, I imagine,” she teased. “Go on now and enjoy yourself.”

Food was the last thing on his mind, but he took the time to choose a few things from the buffet, poured himself a glass of iced tea, refilled Moira’s glass, then led the way to a pair of weathered Adirondack chairs facing the bay. At twilight the view was amazing with shades of purple descending to meet the last shimmering reflections of gold on the water as the sun set behind them to the west.

He set his plate on the arm of the chair, then took a step forward and reached for Moira, studying her face, remembering the way she felt, the way she tasted.

“I’ve missed you like crazy,” he said right before he sealed his mouth over hers. “And this,” he murmured eventually. “I’ve missed this.”

She held his gaze as he slowly released her. “I was so afraid you hadn’t,” she admitted in a rare display of vulnerability.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“It was only a couple of weeks ago when grandfather suggested it. You’d been saying less and less in your emails, and while I understood it was because you were busy, a part of me worried it was more than that. I even wondered if you’d tell me not to come.”

“Why would I do such a thing?” he asked, genuinely shocked that she could even imagine it. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Even now, when you’ve so much on your mind?” she asked, searching his expression for the truth.

“Especially now,” he admitted, realizing it was true. Gram had tried to tell him that Moira belonged here, that she was a part of this pub dream of his, but he hadn’t accepted it until he’d set eyes on her tonight. She’d been by his side as he’d worked out his ideas, listening to him, encouraging him, challenging him when she thought he’d got it wrong. “You’ll be here for the opening, right? You’re staying the whole time your grandfather’s here?”

“Unless you try to chase me away,” she said, then grinned. “And then I’ll only go far enough to annoy you, but not so far that you can forget me.”

Though he wasn’t quite ready to let her go, he was aware that they had an audience of interested O’Brien onlookers not that far away. He nudged her toward a chair. “Sit before I’m tempted to do something that will shock my family.”

She looked intrigued by that. “Really? Such as?”

“I want nothing more than to drag you down onto the ground and have my way with you,” he said candidly, enjoying the quick rise of heat in her eyes.

Still, she only laughed. “You’ve some more apologizing to do before that’s in the cards, Luke. Women don’t appreciate being ignored, no matter what the circumstances. At least, I don’t.”

“You know it was only because of how busy I’ve been, right? It had nothing at all to do with my feelings for you. Nothing’s changed about those. I swear it.”

“Pretty words,” she commented. “You’ve a way with them. We’ll see if you can back them up with actions.”

He smiled. “Is that a challenge?”

“Of course it is. Isn’t that one of the things you said you liked best about me? I didn’t fall easily into your bed in Ireland. I see no reason for that to change here.”

Luke laughed. “I look forward to persuading you, then.”

There was pure mischief in her eyes then. “And I look forward to being persuaded.”

“I think it’s going well,” Dillon observed, casting yet another glance toward his granddaughter and Luke, who’d been keeping to themselves since the moment Luke had made his belated entrance at the party.

Nell gave him a wry look. “I suspect it would be going better if there weren’t an audience over here who can’t seem to keep their gazes to themselves.”

Dillon chuckled. “Point taken. And the truth is, now that the rest of your family has left, I wouldn’t mind having you to myself away from prying eyes as well. Since the seats by the water are occupied, would you like to go inside and snuggle with me on your sofa?”

“And risk scandalizing the young people when they come inside?”

“I don’t think there’s any danger of that,” Dillon said. “Those two could easily be out here till sunup. They’ve a lot of catching up to do.”

“Aren’t you tired from your trip?” Nell asked, studying him with concern.

“I was, but that nap earlier refreshed me. I don’t want to waste another minute of my first day here with you. It’s been a very long time coming.” He studied her and wondered if maybe the problem was with her, not him. “What about you, though, Nell? Have you worn yourself out getting ready for company? Would you rather call it a night?”

“I am a bit tired,” she admitted with obvious reluctance. “All the excitement has taken more of a toll than I realized. Maybe we should call it an early night, so we’ll be fresh for all the things I want to do with you tomorrow.” She smiled at him. “There are so many places I want to take you, Dillon, so much I want to share with you. A month will never be long enough.”

Now it was his turn to worry. She’d never expressed any interest in being the first to bed over the holidays in Dublin. She’d had more energy than some of the women half her age.

He tucked a finger under her chin and studied her intently. “What’s going on, Nell?”

“Just too much excitement,” she insisted, her expression stubbornly defiant. “I’ll be fit as a fiddle in the morning. I can’t wait to show you the town.”

He had no choice but to take her at her word, but he didn’t like what he was seeing or hearing. It wasn’t his usual nature to ask questions behind her back, but if he didn’t find that this had passed with a good night’s rest, he’d speak to Mick. He had no intention of losing Nell after having just gotten her back into his life.

“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful,” Moira said, gazing at the moon rising over the Chesapeake Bay.

“Neither have I,” Luke said, though his gaze was on her, not the water.

She smiled at him. “There’s that pretty way with words again.”

“Come over here and sit with me,” he encouraged. “Everyone’s gone inside now. We’re out here on our own. I just want to hold you.”

Moira hesitated, but the temptation was too much to resist. And why should she? Wasn’t this what she’d come for, to discover if being with Luke was the same now as it had been a few months ago?

She crossed the few steps to his chair, then settled in his lap, her head resting on his shoulder. She sighed softly at how right it felt to be there. Even here, in a new land, it felt like coming home.

“You smell lovely,” she commented, drawing a chuckle.

“Then it’s a good thing I took the time to shower before coming over here tonight,” he said. “After a long day at work, especially covered with paint as I was a few hours ago, you might not have felt the same way.”

“Tell me about the progress on the pub,” she said eagerly. “Will I be able to see it tomorrow?”

“You’ll be almost the first I’ve let through the doors,” he admitted. “I’ve been keeping most of the family at bay. I want them to see it first when I hold the grand opening. Matthew, my father and my uncle have seen it, of course, since they’re doing the work, but no one else has stepped inside.”

“Would you rather I stayed away, too?”

His silence sent a strange chill through her. Finally, he said, “No.”

“There wasn’t much sincerity behind that,” she said accusingly. “If you don’t want me there, just say so.”

“Don’t go getting prickly on me now,” Luke chided. “I was just debating the value of having your opinion now versus seeing the look on your face when it’s all completed.”

She relaxed then. “And the verdict, then?”

“I want you to see it now. You more than anyone deserve to get an early glimpse. You were there while I was working it all out in my head. You know the effect I was hoping to achieve. You may be able to spot whether I’ve gone off course.”

“And you’d want me to tell you that?” she asked.

He gave her a wry look. “Could I keep you from it? One of the many traits I love about you is your commitment to saying what’s on your mind and never holding back.”

“I may not have much practice, but I could be sensitive and subtle if I put my mind to it,” she offered.

“Absolutely not. I don’t want censored remarks. I want the truth.”

She heard the faint hint of vulnerability in his voice and knew she’d find the right words. She had to. She touched his cheek. “It’s going to be wonderful, Luke. I know it is. Have you found music for the opening?”

“I have a stack of demo CDs in my office and no time to listen to them. I have to do that soon, or I’ll be doing Irish karaoke on opening night.”

“I could give a listen, if you like, and recommend a few. Then you could make the final choice from those.”

“That would be a godsend,” he told her.

“It would make me feel a part of it,” she said.

They sat there in companionable silence for a while as the moon turned the bay to silver.

“Tell me about you,” Luke said eventually. “You mentioned taking photographs that Peter framed and hung on the walls at McDonough’s. How did that come about?”

Moira sat up straighter in his lap and filled him in. “Never in a million years did I expect such a reaction when he glimpsed the picture I’d taken of you. I thought he was just being kind, but people have been asking about me, wondering if I’d be available to shoot photos of their weddings or of their babies. Can you imagine?” she asked, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. “I have actual jobs lined up for my return. Isn’t that incredible? In fact, I did a photo shoot of a baby before leaving, and the mum and dad were absolutely gaga over the photos, or so they said. They ordered a lot, so it must have been true.”

Luke seemed to go very still as she talked. Though he said all the right words, he didn’t seem to share her excitement. She frowned.

“I thought you’d be happier,” she admitted. “I’ve finally found my niche, just as you have.”

“But it means you’ll be going back to Dublin,” he said, sounding vaguely disgruntled by that.

“It’s where I live,” she said. “I’ll be going back. Did you think I came all this way intending to take up residency? I would never be so presumptuous, Luke. This is a surprise visit—nothing more.”

“Of course it is,” he said. “And it’s a wonderful surprise. Don’t mind me. I don’t know why I reacted like that.”

Ironically, Moira thought she knew. And for the first time since Luke had set eyes on her earlier in the evening, she felt a real glimmer of hope that this visit and what it might suggest about their future mattered to him as much as it did to her.

Though it had been well after midnight when Luke had finally managed to tear himself away from Moira after the party, he was back by seven in the morning to share breakfast with her. But when he arrived at the cottage, it was only his grandmother he found awake and stirring. She was making oatmeal and checking on the cranberry-orange scones she had in the oven. He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping in this morning?” he asked, studying her worriedly for signs of exhaustion.

“Have you ever known me to sleep past six?” she asked.

He looked around and listened for any hint that others were out of bed. There was nothing. “I thought Dillon and Moira would be up by now with the time difference and all.”

“Oh, believe me, they were up before dawn. I found a pot of tea brewed when I got up and a note that said they’d gone for a walk on the beach.”

“Then they’re not here?” he asked, not even trying to hide his disappointment.

She smiled at his reaction. “Not to worry. They’ll be back any minute,” she assured him. “Or you could go out to meet them.”

“No, I’ll wait here and help you get breakfast on the table.” He went to work setting four places at the large kitchen table, then asked, “Should I scramble some eggs? Perhaps fry some bacon? They might be hungry for more than oatmeal or scones after their walk.”

“Meaning you’re the one who’s truly hoping for a heartier meal,” Gram said with a grin.

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?”

“I had a taste of it in Dublin,” Moira reminded her. “It’s getting easier.”

“Well, they still scare the daylights out of me,” Heather confided. “We should have coffee and I could give you all my tips for survival. If you’re free now, I have time before I have to open my shop.”

“She’s coming with me to see the pub,” Luke said.

Connor and Heather both looked stunned. “She’s allowed to cross the threshold?” Connor asked indignantly. “Why not us, then?”

“Because she’s special,” Luke said. “While you two are nothing but nuisances. Go away, and don’t try sneaking a look when I open the door.”

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