It should have been a question, but the way he said it took out any hint of uncertainty.
I doubted this man had ever been uncertain a day in his life. He had that controlled, imposing air I usually found insufferable. What was it about him that made it intriguing?
The temperature in the room rose several degrees when he crossed his arms and leaned one shoulder on the doorjamb. “Apologies for bursting in on you. Thought you were an intruder.”
“You think an intruder would lug two suitcases up that flight of stairs and use two keys to open the doors?” I aimed for sarcastic, but his presence scrambled my brain and it came out sounding far too flirty for my liking.
His smirk returned in full force, proving he’d heard the underlying attraction. “Well, now, you never know, do ya?”
“How’d you know who I was?” I fought down the rising emotions as grief welled. “And who are you?”
“Sorry.” He stuck out a hand large enough to engulf mine. “Declan. O’Sullivan’s most loyal bartender.”
“I’m guessing you’re theonlybartender.” I shook his hand, my fingers tingling from the contact and staying wrapped around his hand far longer than necessary.
“And you’d be right.” His thumb brushed over my knuckles before he let go. “You look a bit like your mother. Same red hair. Bit sharper in the eyes but she’s there too.”
“Wait…Declan. As in the same Declan who worked here when I was a kid?”
“The one and the same.” He pushed off the door and straightened to his full height. “Welcome home, lass.”
Lass. God how long had it been since I’d heard a genuine Irish brogue? I’d spent so long burying that part of myself. The tears came for me again, harder and faster than I thought possible. I pressed my fingers into my eyes and took a shaky breath.
“Well shit.” Declan’s heavy sigh brushed my cheek. When had he crossed the room? “Need a hug?”
I tried to shake my head, but it nodded instead.
Heavy arms wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me close to his muscled chest. Good lord.
How often did the man work out to have a physique like that?
Not important.
My hands curled beneath my chin, and I allowed myself four whole seconds to enjoy Declan’s embrace.
Something about it helped push back the tide of pain. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He patted my shoulders before dropping his hands to his sides. “Come downstairs whenever you’re ready. Your Nana’s attorney will be here soon.”
I nodded and wiped my eyes. “Thanks, Declan.”
He turned and hurried down the steps, leaving me alone to process the moment and prepare for the next.
I placed my suitcases in my old bedroom, ignored the other two open doors leading to Mom’s and Nana’s rooms and hung my coat on the rack.
A quick look in the full-length mirror in the living room proved my choice in the sleek black dress had survived the trip with minimal wrinkles.
A single green shamrock nestled high in the right corner of the mirror.
Nana’s good luck kiss.
She’d loved hiding shamrocks around the house for me to find.
Get it together. Nana’s sharp but loving voice came to me almost easier than Mom’s. I patted my cheeks. They had enough color, but the gentle taps helped clear my head.
The door downstairs opened, and Declan’s voice trickled up the stairs as he welcomed someone he called Mr. Turney inside. Must be the lawyer.
Time to face the music. I straightened my skirt and swallowed any remaining grief, promising myself I’d feel it all later. Alone.
