Before I had a chance to move, he brushed his fingertips through the strands near my temple.
My breath stuttered but I couldn’t move.
“There.” He lingered, fingers sliding along the curve of my cheek and behind my ear. “Got it.”
Move. Step back. Fall over. Do something before I drooled all over him. “I need to hang lights.” My words came out slurred but recognizable.
Finn’s lips crinkled into a grin. “I’ll help.”
Please. Please what? I handed him the lights and returned to decorating the windows before my brain short circuited and I did something foolish.
The afternoon blurred into a long line of decorations, drinks, and small talk. Most of the regulars remembered me now, and they spent most of their time trying to outtalk each other.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the casual intimacy of small town life. People showed up when you needed them here.
Maybe Clover Hill wasn’t the trap Mom always thought.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”
I turned, a ready smile in place.
Bethany Clearwater stood in front of me, all big smiles and wide eyes. “I’ve been meaning to stop by and talk to you. Wanted to give you a proper welcome home.” She held out a box. “These are for you.”
I took the box without really seeing it, but the familiar red color with the leaping leprechaun and rainbow didn’t take much to decipher. Lucky Charms. She’d given me a box of cereal. Confusion spread through me, but I nodded. “Um. Thanks.” Maybe this was some kind of tradition I’d missed.
Bethany’s grin widened. I’d heard the expression “smiled like a shark” but hadn’t understood it until then.
Behind Bethany, two other women roughly our age covered their mouths with both hands and laughed.
Oh.
My cheeks flamed as it dawned on me.
Lucky Charms. Leprechauns. Irish stereotypes because I was Irish and apparently that made a good joke.
That old, familiar sense of judgment settled over me, suffocating and freezing me all at the same time.
Be the bigger person, Bree. Mom always told me that. Iit didn’t help when I was literally twice the size of perfect, petite Bethany. I gritted my teeth and kept it all locked up behind a saccharine sweet smile. “That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll be sure to set a bowl out for the leprechauns tonight.”
Her nose scrunched in obvious confusion but she recovered. “Oh, you're welcome. Anything for our newest little resident.”
Her words said one thing. The cold calculation in her eyes said the opposite.
This was the kind of thing Mom wanted me to escape.
9
RONAN
The scent of snow hung heavy in the air. I sniffed the sharp, metallic tang and rolled my shoulders. Damn.
Dad taught me to read the weather the same way I read blueprints. Thirty years in construction taught me to respect what was coming.
I pushed through the door at O’Sullivan’s, grateful for the rush of warmth and noise.
Green streamers hung from every surface. Shamrocks covered the windows.
Bree had been busy in the two days since I’d brought over the paint for her to look at.
