Page 26 of Beneath the Quiet

“Of course I’m listening.”

“It didn’t look that way to me.”

I sigh and put the car in park before turning off the ignition.

“I always try my best.” I rest my wrist on the steering wheel and grin down at her.

She grins back at me, and my heart squeezes in my chest. Katie looks more and more like her mother each day.

“You remember which bus will take you to the club?”

“Yup.” She pops the p and rolls her eyes at me. “We’ve gone through this a thousand times, Dad. I’m old enough to take the bus, and I know what I’m doing, okay?”

“Fine, fine.” I hold up my hands in defeat. “Text me when you get there.”

“I promise.”

“Good. Have a nice day, Katie.”

She unbuckles her seatbelt and then lunges, tightening her arms around me in a brief hug at the same time the school bell rings.

“See you tonight, Dad.”

Then she opens the door, slides out, and turns to get her backpack and gym bag that holds her riding clothes. Thank fuck she has a room at the club where she keeps her helmet and boots, so she doesn’t have to lug them around with her each week. Mind half on my schedule, I drive back to my village.

But the other half sweeps back to my new auburn-haired friend and our chat yesterday when we ran into each other. When she told me she didn’t find it easy to make new friends and implied it wasn’t the first time she’d had to move, a sharp pang hit my heart.

“I’ve never been good at making friends, so it’s hard.”

I rub my knuckle on my chest when my traitorous heart flip again. I growl, annoyed at myself. I wish my protective instincts would leave things well enough alone for once. I don’t have the time or energy to become involved with someone like her. Someone who isn’t even certain she’ll want to stay here, and why is she even in Cloonmara to begin with? The fact that I’m a single father only cements that. I curse. I’ve never been in this situation before. Since Tierney died, my sole focus has been on raising my daughter, to be there for her in every sense of the word, and to make sure she wants for nothing.

Maeve coming to the village mustn’t derail me.

But her eyes…Fuck, her eyes tell me there’s a story there. When she brushed against me yesterday and peeked up at me through her eyelashes, I had to suck in a breath. I could’ve sworn she felt the same shot of electricity that I did, and that is bad for my peace of mind.

My cock twitches against my jeans. I shift in my seat and take a deep breath, willing it to settle down.

My phone rings, breaking me out of my own head. I push on the steering wheel to answer.

“Lynch.”

“Whitaker.”

My lips stretch in a wide grin. “Well, well, well, look who can finally find the time to phone an old friend.”

Joseph’s chuckle fills my car. “I’m in London now. Thought it was past time I checked in.”

“It’s good to hear from you.”

Joseph has been my friend since we met in college in Cork. When he went on to become a part of the family business–luxury spas and getaways in the US–I worried we’d lose our friendship, but, somehow, we never did. Even our mothers still send each other Christmas cards each year.

We spend the next few minutes catching up and exchanging pleasantries.

“What’s going on with you?” he asks.

“Not much. I work the farm and raise my daughter.” I chuckle. “She’s learning to ride and getting new friends at the pony club.”

“For real?”