Heat spread across my cheeks. Fuck. “He’s a great guy. He’s been very welcoming since I came back.”
It was the same thing I’d say about anyone in town. They’d all been kind to me, except for Bethany, but I’d expected that from someone like her. It was her default setting. Something she could learn to manage but wouldn’t bother because no one ever called her out on her shitty behavior.
Tammy cackled, bringing me back to the conversation before I wandered into even more dangerous territory. “I’m sure he has.” She propped her forearms on the bar and leaned in closer. “Doesn’t hurt to sneak into a quiet corner with a hot man like him every now and again, right?”
My mouth opened but no sound came out. She’d definitely seen us. Shit.
“Good for you, dear.” She patted my arm, her papery thin skin making a rustling sound. “Finn’s a great guy. A real catch. Who cares if there’s an age gap. When I was your age, no one cared. Good grief, my mother was fourteen when she married my father, and he was well into his twenties. As long as you’re consenting adults, life is far too short to worry about a bunch of gossipping ninnies.”
“I…” My breath rushed out. What did I possibly say to that?
Tammy stood, tucked her tiny purse under her arm, and sashayed toward the door, waving one hand over her shoulder. “Have a good night, Bree. You too, Declan.” She left me standing there with my face on fire and my heart trying to beat out of my chest. If Tammy knew, it wouldn’t be long before the whole town knew. How long would it take before I became the subject of every whispered conversation and pointed look?
A towel the bar with a slapping sound, and I jerked my attention to Declan.
Soulful blue eyes fixed on me with a hard expression that put a scowl on his handsome face. Hurt lingered there, and I realized that I’d been right.
He thought I’d chosen Finn, or maybe with Ronan since I’d sent him upstairs in front of everyone. He thought I’d decided to leave him out.
It’s not what you think. I willed him to read the silent message, softening my expression and tipping my head toward him. I didn’t dare move toward him to explain. The couple in the corner booth were absorbed in each other, but Tom still sat nursing his Guinness.
I had no choice but to keep up the charade, grab another towel, and wipe down the tables.
We fell into a careful dance around each other. Declan stayed behind the bar. I covered the floor. But I found reasons to round the bar and brush against him. Carrying an armful of mugs, I ‘tripped’ over a tiny bump in the floor and threw out a hand to catch myself, conveniently letting my hand land on his back.
When I reached past him to put away the glasses, I made sure my shoulder brushed his ribs, keeping the contact brief but not letting him feel like I was avoiding him too much.
When I actually stumbled over a stool when a scraping sound came from overhead, his hand shot out to steady me, his gaze shooting to my face, then the ceiling. The warmth of his hand burned through my sleeve, and I smiled up at him. “Thanks. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
The couple finally settled their tab and left, calling out goodnight and bundling into their coats.
Enough time had passed since I’d come downstairs. If anyone realized Ronan hadn’t come back down, they might not think anything of it. I dried my hands. “Hey.” I waited for him to turn. “It’s getting late and I’m exhausted. I think I’ll head upstairs for the night.”
His expression didn’t change. No recognition flared. I needed to make it more obvious without being obvious to the remaining patrons.
I took a breath and said exactly what I’d said to him on St. Patrick’s Day when I decided to give in to the one thing I’d been wanting. Them. “Declan, lock the door.”
His eyes flared an instant before he controlled the motion. His head dipped in a short nod. “I will.”
“Thanks. Good night.”
“Night, Bree.” Those two words tacked onto my skin and followed me up the stairs.
I barely managed to keep from running. Knowing what waited for me up there, and what would be happening soon, my breathsalready came in panting bursts. I halfway expected to open the door and find an empty apartment.
What if they’d changed their mind and slipped out through the fire escape?
I rushed through the door.
Finn sat on the other end of the couch, his feet kicked up and his head back as he stared at me upside down.
Ronan sat in a chair beside the window, his elbow on the arm and his chin in his cupped hand. “Did he get the message?”
“I think so.” I twisted my hands together. “Maybe I should text him. Make sure he understands.”
“Come here.” Finn patted the cushion beside him. “He’ll figure it out.”
I sank onto the couch and tucked my hands beneath my thighs. My knee pressed against Finn’s, and the solid warmth of him helped quiet some of the anxiety.
