Hannah’s heart did a funny thunk at the gentle caress of his thumb on the sensitive skin of her wrist as he tugged her closer to him. She was also charmed – not so much at being referred to as his girlfriend, but at the thoughtful way he’d deflected the attention without hurting the girl’s feelings or making her feel a fool.
Hannah stayed at arm’s length, not wanting to spoil the moment for the other girl who beamed triumphantly and clapped him on the shoulder.
‘Now one for the bride,’ she shouted as the other girls propelled the girl in the white dress forward.
Everyone else in the pub turned to watch as Conor graciously bestowed a kiss on the bride’s cheek.
Within minutes, people were pushing their way forward asking for selfies and photos for their nieces, sisters, mums and grannies and Hannah’s hand was reluctantly relinquished as Conor gave her an urgent look.Wait for me,it said. She smiled at him and watched the interactions which Conor bore with his trademark charm, even smiling off the words of an irate drunken man who told him, ‘Yer programme’s a bag of shite but my mammy likes you. Gis us a photo.’
While he was being mobbed, Hannah made her way to the bar and ordered herself a glass of white wine, figuring it might take some time for him to free himself. She observed his interactions with pride. Although he’d told her he’d eschewed the limelight, he was clearly good at handling it, but it must be exhausting to live with. No wonder he preferred Kerry.
She stood at the bar and sipped her wine, every now and then nodding at him when he caught her eye with an apologetic, rueful wink. Her heart warmed watching him. Conor was one of the good ones.
She sighed to herself. No wonder she’d gone and fallen for him. Fallen in love with him.
Love!
Hannah blinked, hoping the shock didn’t show on her face. Falling in love wasn’t supposed to happen. She hadn’t even been aware of it until this very moment. There’d been no bolt-of-lightning moment. No, instead, the feelings had sneaked in like mist under a door. For a second it was hard to take a breath with the firefly bursting in her chest.Shewas in love with Connor Byrne.
She stood and watched him, her heart fluttering gently. It seemed as if the whole pub wanted their three minutes of fame by proxy with him and he didn’t manage to extricate himself until she’d almost finished her wine and it was very nearly seven o’clock. He made it to her side and took her wine glass, draining it with one quick swallow.
‘Let’s get out of here while we can.’
As he pulled her through the crowd, the hens started calling out ‘Bye Conor,’ and then taking up the chant, ‘Good enough to eat. Good enough to ride,’ and punching their arms in the air.
Hannah giggled once they burst out of the doors into the cool evening air. ‘Good enough to ride, eh?’ God, she loved this man.
‘Don’t you start.’ He rolled his eyes with feeling. ‘God save us from hen nights. They were fluthered. I thought I was a goner in there.’ He put his arm around her and kissed her. ‘You were supposed to come to my rescue.’
She nudged his arm, delighting in his easy affection. ‘You seemed to be handling things perfectly. They all loved you – even the guy who said your programme was rubbish.’
‘Tell me about it. He still wanted a picture though.’ He huffed out a long sigh. ‘At least in restaurants people are a little more circumspect and if I sit with my back to the room, most don’t know its me.’
‘You didn’t seem to mind too much.’ He dropped his arm to take her hand and gave it a squeeze as they walked side by side along the pavement.
‘You can’t. That’s the problem. One bad word, one attempt to disengage yourself, and all of a sudden it’s all over social media and the press what an arse you are and how it’s all gone to your head. Besides, these are the people that have made me. I earned a lot of money, thanks to them watching the shows, thanks to people turning up to my restaurants. Being polite and playing along is a small price to pay, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Some people do, though. Polly loves it. Loves being centre stage. Wherever we went the press were sure to turn up. We couldn’t even go for a walk in the Phoenix Park on a Sunday morning without some photographer turning up. It took ages for me to figure it out. Turned out Polly was the one tipping them off. Even though she knew how much I hated the lack of privacy. That…’ Hannah saw him swallow. ‘That was a real kick in the teeth. A betrayal.’
‘That’s…’ Hannah paused, not wanting to be bitchy, but there was something about that level of disloyalty that made her want to comfort him. She was furious on his behalf. Polly should have looked after him better. ‘That’s terrible.’
He pursed his lips before saying with a resigned shrug, ‘She wanted the exposure. I was so pissed off, but she insisted things would be better if we moved back to Killorgally. I should’a realised she wanted to establish the next generation of the Byrne family.’ A grim smile twisted his mouth as he slowed his pace and they stepped out into the road to avoid a large group of young men.
‘What did your mother think?’ asked Hannah, slightly horrified.
‘She’s just pleased that another one of her cooking disciples is going out there, spreading the word.’
‘Really?’
‘She’s never said anything against Polly and they’re still in touch. Her view is that we weren’t suited and it was better we found out before we got married. To be fair, in some ways, she’s right. Why should Polly compromise her career because I didn’t want to be in that world anymore?’ Despite his non-committal words, Hannah heard the sense of betrayal in his words.
‘That’s very fair of you, overlooking the fact that she used you.’ She gave him a gentle smile.
‘Ouch.’ He looked at Hannah. ‘You have a way of getting straight to the nub of a matter, don’t you? That’s what I lo— I…’ His eyes met hers and she swallowed. The moment extended as they stared at each other and she could see the tenderness in his eyes. Then he leaned forward and gave her a soft, reverent kiss on the lips, his hand cupping her face.
‘Sorry,’ she said softly, reaching up to stroke his face. Had he been about to say he loved her? Now she really was being crazy. Just because she’d realised she loved him, it didn’t mean he felt the same. He’d been bruised by Polly; he’d made it clear he wasn’t ready to go down that road again. ‘I didn’t mean to be that blunt.’
‘It’s fine. You got it straight away. Mam won’t have a word said against her.’
‘But not your grandmother.’
