I nearly choked on my whiskey. “Me and Ronan?” I laughed, the sound echoing into the night. “Not a chance in hell. He’s like a brother. Besides, I’ve seen how he eats a sandwich. I couldneverafter that.”
Jax grinned, his dimples flashing. “Good to know.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Just curious. You’re hard to figure out, Deirdre Gallagher.”
“No, I’m not,” I protested. “You get exactlywhat you see.”
“Ah, but I don’t see everything, do I? No one does. You’ve got some layers.”
“Doesn’t everybody?” I took a sip of whiskey.
He folded his arms across his chest. “You were engaged to O’Farrell?”
“Aye.”
“For how long?”
“A year. We were together for three. We were to be married, but Maggie fell sick, and I didn’t have time to plan a wedding.” I remembered the shock of finding out how sick she was and discovering how hard the chemo was. “Maggie…ah…she was my sister.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said sincerely. “Paddy told me about her. Apparently, she was an even better cook than Ronan, which means she must’ve been spectacular ‘cause Ronan is pretty damn good.”
The man was smooth. Talking about my sister like that? That was a direct line to my heart.
Shut up, Dee, he’s looking to get into your pants, if he is, and not your heart.
“You know, Dee.” He turned to me and locked his eyes with mine. Even in the dim streetlight that spilled out from the pub, I could see he was serious. “That man didn’t strike me as someone who deserved you.”
I stared at my glass, the whiskey catching the light. “He didn’t. But that didn’t stop me from wasting nearly three years on him.”
Jax didn’t say anything, waiting for me to continue.
I sighed, leaning back against the bench. “Cillianand I grew up together. His family’s loaded, and mine…well, we weren’t. His parents never liked me—they were always a bit hoity-toity, all notions and no warmth. They thought I wasn’t good enough for him. We started seeing each other, and it was comfortable, I suppose. Familiar.”
“And then?” Jax prompted gently.
“And then Maggie got sick.” My voice caught slightly. “I spent every waking moment either at the pub or taking care of her. Cillian didn’t like not being the center of my attention. I found him fucking Aoife in his office three days after Maggie died.”
“Dee!” Jax’s voice was low, full of sorrow for me.
I shrugged, forcing a smile. “It’s ancient history now. Maggie’s gone, and so is he. Good riddance, I say.”
“But it still hurts.”
I was ready to say something flip and caustic, but instead, I spoke the truth. “Yes, and not because he broke my heart. I think I stopped loving Cillian while Maggie was sick. He was selfish and spoiled, and I saw it more clearly than ever.” I let out a long exhale. “Still…after losing Maggie, I thought we’d find our way back. I thought we’d sort ourselves out. But when I threw his ring in his face, I realized it wasn’t heartbreak that cut the deepest—it was the loss of trust. It was knowing that while I was drowning in grief, the person I should have been able to rely on was making a mockery of me behind my back.”
“He’s a fucking fool, Dee.” Jax cupped my cheek,his palm warm, broad, and achingly comforting. I resisted the urge to press into him like a cat seeking heat. “You’re beautiful, warm,feisty, wonderful—he was lucky to have had a chance with you and a damn fool to have squandered his good fortune.”
I swallowed, desperate to lighten the air between us. “Ah now, Jax, I already gave you my good whiskey—there’s no need to be butterin’ me up any further.”
Jax stroked my cheek, undoing my attempt to let the tension dissipate.
“He was and is a big fucking fool.”
He dropped his hand, and we sat in silence.
I finished my whiskey and thought it was the perfect excuse to get up and leave. Instead, I found myself saying, “What about you? Any Cillians in your closet?”
