She narrowed her eyes. “And why should I trust your judgment? Maybe you’re trying to sabotage me.”
“Or maybe I know Darren uses duct tape like it’s a sacrament,” he said with a shrug. “You’ll see for yourself. I tried to help. That’s my good deed for the day.”
“Impressive. Want a medal? Or a thank-you goat?”
He smirked. “Nah. Just keep her out of my tulips.”
As the truck pulled up, he paused at the top of the steps.
“Before you get too far into renovations,” he said casually, “I want to make an offer.”
Her brows rose.
“I’ll give you a million. Right now. For the whole estate. No paperwork yet. Just a handshake.”
Aisling blinked. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“No.”
He blinked. “Just like that? Don’t you want to think about it?”
“You think I’d sell this place to a Gallagher? After all this drama? After you threatened my goat? Wanted to make stew out of my precious Céilí?
He grinned, cocky and maddening. “Worth a try.”
“Get off my porch, Gallagher.”
Two men approached, one older, with silver hair and laugh lines, the other probably his son.
“Ronan,” the older man greeted. “Didn’t expect to see you this early.”
“Fergal,” Ronan nodded. “Watch out for the goat.”
“I’ll keep my guard up,” Fergal said with a wink.
Aisling stepped forward, extending her hand. “I’m Aisling O’Byrne. Thanks for coming.”
“A pleasure, Miss O’Byrne. Your grandmother was a fine woman. Restoring her house will be an honor.”
Ronan turned as he descended the steps. “Try not to let her goat trample you.”
“It’s not my goat,” she called after him.
But, of course, he didn’t miss a beat. “Tell that to my begonias.”
She rolled her eyes so hard she almost saw the back of her brain.
Turning back to Fergal and his son, she smiled. “Come in, gentlemen. Let’s get this beast of a house back to glory. After you’ve seen the house, I’d like a written estimate on the remodel.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Fergal said.
As they walked through the door, she whispered under her breath, “And if Céilí wants to eat a few more of his roses... I won’t stop her. After all, she’s a growing goat.”
CHAPTER9
The next two days flew by in a whirlwind of dust, budgets, and decisions that felt far too adult for someone whose primary responsibility three weeks ago was not strangling her ex with a USB cord.
