Bree sighed. “That takes so much work, and everyone already suspects what we’re doing.” Her body curled in on itself. “Can I have some time to think about it?”
I almost offered a move to Boston. Surely we’d be more accepted there, but what would the three of us do about our jobs? I filed it away as a possibility. I would go anywhere for her, and I was pretty sure Ronan and Declan would too, but part of me hated giving in to the town and their small-minded ways. They hadn’t cared who was in my bed before.
Why did it matter now?
“You don’t have to decide anything tonight.” I kissed her cheek. “Tonight, we celebrate your accomplishment in meeting Maeve’s stipulation in her will. You’ve done the Sullivan women proud.”
Her chin came up at that. “Thank you, Finn.”
“Anytime, love.” I kissed her again, full on the lips, then grinned. “How would you like to celebrate?”
“Oh, I have some ideas.” Wiggling her eyebrows, she shimmied out of her shirt, tossing it behind her into Declan’s face.
He peeled it off, then followed her down onto the couch, kissing her spine when she bent to kiss my throat.
Now this was the kind of celebration I preferred. I cupped her breasts and moaned when she palmed my cock through my work pants. The rough rasp of fabric accentuated her breathing, and I pushed into her hand.
We’d given breath to our feelings. It might not have solved any problems, but we all knew where we stood. I could live with that until a permanent solution came up.
Bree dragged her nails down my chest and nuzzled her face against my zipper. “I want you in my mouth, Finn.”
Fuck yeah. Tonight was far from over.
32
DECLAN
Bree loved us, and it might not be enough to get her to stay.
I’d barely slept last night, my mind too busy replaying our conversation and everything that happened afterward to allow rest.
I pulled the chairs down in the main pub area and double-checked the taps even though I knew they were fine. The routine helped me settle in and change direction with my thoughts. My personal life had never interfered with work before, but I’d never had a woman like Bree in my life before either. She took up every second of every day.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The morning passed in slow motion. Every time a thump sounded overhead, I jerked in that direction, anxious for the moment Bree joined me.
It didn’t happen till noon, and by then, I’d stopped trying to polish glasses and wipe down the bar. I served drinks when asked and kept the place running.
Her footsteps reached me, soft and quick on the stairs in that cadence I’d memorized the day she showed up. She paused on the bottom step, her gaze sweeping over the pub. Her green sweater brightened her eyes, the sharp cut of her hair drawing my eyes to her throat. A quick smile flashed and she joined me at the bar. “Morning.”
Tom and Gerald walked in for their lunch, waved at Bree, and settled into their booth.
“I got it.” She filled two pints and picked up the fries Benny had ready for them and carried it all over without breaking stride or losing her smile.
They’d behaved since my little chat, but I kept an eye–and an ear–on them just in case.
I love you. The way she’d looked when she said it last night swelled in my chest.
Damn it all. Don’t start counting on things. Bree would make up her mind, and we’d accept her decision.
Didn’t mean I had to like it or not try my damndest to convince her to stay, but not here. Not yet.
The door opened with a jingle of the shamrock bell Ronan had installed in honor of Maeve.
Bree turned, a smile already in place.
Tammy Whitaker and two of her friends walked in.
