Both men looked up when I descended the stairs.
Declan stood behind the bar, broad hands resting on the polished edge and beige shirt pulled taut over the lines of his shoulders.
He hooked his thumbs in a set of suspenders and dragged them up over his shoulders.
Holy shit.Howhad I missed the suspenders? I must really be off my game.
Stop it. My current sexual dry spell made my attraction to him that much more potent. I’d always preferred older men.
“Miss Sullivan?” Mr. Turney swept his hat off and motioned toward two chairs parked in front of the fireplace. “I’m sorry for your loss. Maeve always spoke highly of you. She was rather proud of your accomplishments. Boarding school at twelve, then college and a high-end job in Boston as an event coordinator.” He listed my accomplishments with the air of reciting a grocery list.
I ignored it for the most part. It was my life. Good or bad, I’d made the most of it. “Thank you, Mr. Turney.” I sat and crossed my ankles. “I’m sure you have plenty of business to attend. I’m ready whenever you are.”
He tugged his collar and sat. “Yes, well. I’ll make this as painless as possible. In essence, your grandmother left you the pub and all of her worldly possessions, along with a sizable sum. There is one stipulation.”
Of course there was. I motioned for him to continue.
“Maeve wanted you to give this place the proper facelift it deserved. The one she was too old to oversee. You must spend the money she’s given you on breathing new life into the pub. Maeve has already hired the contractor. You’ll meet with him tomorrow morning. You have three months to meet the conditions of her will, otherwise you receive nothing.”
A snarky, Nana-worthy comeback sat on the tip of my tongue. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep it from blurting out against my will. Of course Nana gave me some ridiculous task.
Did I even want to bother spending three months here?
Mom always pushed for me to leave Clover Hill.
It had been her one big wish for me to live beyond the tight confines of Nana’s small town where rumors grew bigger than life.
But Nana poured her heart and soul into the pub. I didn’t need the money or the headache. Love for Nana and giving her this one thing butted against my desire to run away once again and never look back.
Declan polished the spotless bar, his ear tipped toward us as he pretended not to listen.
Nana had probably talked all this over with him. No doubt he knew more about the bar than she’d ever learn. Why hadn’t Nana left it to him, and would he feel put out at Nana’s choice?
I examined his face but found nothing that told me his feelings.
“Thank you, Mr. Turney.” I forced my attention to the lawyer, dismissing him with a nod and smile as fake as Declan’s need to clean.
He stood and propped his newsboy cap at a jaunty angle. “Good day, Miss Sullivan.”
“We open in five minutes.” Declan tossed the clean rag into a nearby sink and crooked his finger at her. “You look like you need a drink. Allow me.”
My legs moved of their own accord, beckoned over by that single motion. I propped my elbow on the bar and watched Declan pour a shot into a glass and a Guinness into a deep mug.
He held out both. “Bottoms up.”
I tossed back the lemon drop shot and almost groaned at the bite of the sweet and tart citrus. “Thanks. I needed that.” I nursed the Guinness in slow sips. Rich and flavorful and oh so delicious. Kind of reminded me of Declan, honestly. Doubted he’d mind being compared to Nana’s most revered drink.
The door burst open behind me, a raucous wave of noise following thebangof wood on wood.
Declan uttered a curse while smiling, which told me this was most likely a normal occurrence.
I slid my ass onto the nearest stool and turned toward the commotion.
A man stood at the front of a group of firefighters. Soot stained all their faces, and they still wore their blue pants, blue shirts, and red suspenders.
What was the deal with me and suspenders today? Maybe I’d missed them. Which made no sense.
I’d left at the age of twelve.
