“Fuck, if something happened to her, Ro will commit murder,” Eamon says.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, each of us pondering what could have possibly happened to rile our favorite bartender. My phone buzzes on the table, pulling us from our thoughts.
Myra:Hey, we’re going to skip out tonight. My feet are swollen and killing me. The idea of walking even across the room, let alone putting on shoes, makes me want to cry. And Mac has offered to rub my feet. ;)
Norah:You can’t really turn that down. You’ll be missed, but I understand. Hope you’re able to get some rest. Tell that baby Auntie Norie loves her!
Myra:Will do! xoxo
“Myra and Mac aren’t coming tonight. She has some swelling and wants to take it easy,” I tell everyone.
“I still can’t believe they’re having a baby. Andhappy together,” Layla says in mock astonishment.
“Aye,” Teagan agrees as he toys with the braid hanging over Layla’s shoulder. “It’s scary how much Mac has changed. He’s almost tolerable now.”
“Almost,” Eamon says with a grimace. “I still think he’s a wanker.”
“Stop it,” I chastise, playfully smacking his chest with the back of my hand.
He catches it and brings my knuckles to his lips. “Sorry love. He’ll never be my favorite person. Not after all the things he said about you.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Eamon, that ship has sailed. I’m over it, so should you be.”
“Not until he officially apologizes to you,” Eamon says decidedly. “Even if he was just joking, it’s not okay to talk about any woman that way.”
“He’s right,” Teagan agrees. “He has a daughter on the way, so the sooner he learns to control that mouth of his, the better.”
We all hum in agreement.
Chapter Forty
Norah
It’s the week before the spring play. Dr. Andrews wrote the entire production himself and titled it “BeDRAGgled.” When I originally told him about having the Irish trio model the costumes for the cast, he laughed to the point of tears. He loved all of my designs for the characters but thought the one Rowan modeled was genius. I had successfully turned him into a cowboy drag queen.
“Fecking hell, Norah,” Rowan grouses. “These chaps are heavy.”
I chuckle as I secure the last buckle on his fringed chaps. “You look great, Ro. And you’re a good sport. You’ve complained the least out of the three of you.”
“Ach, well if wehaveto do this, we might as well give it our all! Plus,” he says, turning the lower half of his body to lookin the mirror, “these knickers really make my arse look good.”
“I’m going to hurl,” Teagan mumbles into the trash can between his knees. “If I puke, do I still have to do this?”
“Teag,” I scold, “you play on stage at Paddy’s, and you play on the field in front of tons of people all the time. How is this any different?”
He lifts his head long enough to scowl at me. “I usually have my arse covered during both of those, thank you very much.”
I shake my head and motion for him to rise. “Stand up. Let me make sure everything is still in place.”
“There’s not much here tobein place,” he grumbles but complies anyway. His costume consists of a red cheeky leotard covered in shiny beading, black fishnet stockings, red platform ankle boots, and a devil-horned headdress.
After begging her and promising to cook her dinner for a week, Layla agreed to help with the makeup on the guys. She transformed Teagan’s face from the handsome and rugged Irishman into a smirking devil with hooded eyes. I can’t wait to see what she did with Eamon.
“Where the hell is Kennedy?” Ro calls from the other side of the room where he’s still posing in front of the floor-length mirror, running his hands over the glittery denim bustier while admiring his ass in the matching cheeky boy shorts. The tasseled chaps, cowboy boots, and cowboy hat complete the look. We put him in a curly red wig, that matches his beard perfectly, and ridiculously long fake lashes covered in glitter. He doesn’t seem to mind them in the least.
“That’s a good question,” I muse, looking around backstage. “I’ll go check on him. Teagan, you’re good. Go over there with Ro and let him boost your confidence.” I meander out of the general dressing area to the private dressing rooms and knock on the door to the room Eamon was getting ready in. “Eamon? You in there?”
“No,” he grumbles.
