Before I can respond, a deep voice growls behind me, “Myra, I think it’s time for you to leave now.”
“Ugh. I’m out of here,” she spits as she shoulders her way past Eamon.
Eamon
I don’t bother looking at Myra or I might say something I’ll regret later. It takes every bit of self-control I have tonotgo off on her for the vile things she said to Norah. Norah, who is standing there with tears rolling down her cheeks.
I walk towards her slowly; taking her elbow, I pull her into my embrace. She starts crying in earnest now. I don’t blame her. The conversation I walked in on was brutal. How anyone could say such things, especially to someone they call a friend, is mind-boggling. I’m sure Mac spun the story to make himself look like the victim. Apparently, I need to have another conversation with him. I’m not a violent person by nature, but I want nothing more than to seek vengeance on anyone who has ever caused Norah an ounce of pain.
“Shhh, love. It’s okay,” I murmur as I run my hand over her hair. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Is it true?” she asks, looking up at me with watery blue eyes. Christ, even crying she’s gorgeous.
“Is what true?”
“Did you really shove Mac against a wall defending me?” She sniffles.
“Aye,” I don’t hesitate to say. “I did. He had no business talking about you the way he did. He shouldn’t be talking about any woman that way.”
Norah wraps her arms around my waist and rests her head against my chest. “Thank you,” she whispers. “And thank you for coming in when you did.”
I hold her tightly and kiss the top of her head. “I only wish I would have gotten here sooner, but I stopped to get you something on the way.”
She raises her head again, a small smile forming on her tear-streaked face. “You got me something?”
She’s adorable. I grin at her and say, “It’s in the car. I’ll be right back.”
I return carrying a white paper sack. I set it on the kitchen island, motioning her over. “Open it,” I order.
She unfolds the top of the bag and peeks inside before squealing, “Cranberry scones!”
“I know you’re a baker, but I couldn’t let you do all the work,” I tease her. “Which, by the way, it smells incredible in here.”
“Thank you. I just pulled it out of the oven before Myra showed up, so we should eat before it gets cold.”
“Grand. I’m famished,” I tell her.
She made a proper Sunday roast, and I’m all but delighted.
“I’m not all that knowledgeable about soccer, but the game was a lot of fun to watch. You’re really in your element on the field, “ she compliments me, and I preen a little.
“Aye, I love it. I’m glad you were there. I credit my hat trick to you, you know,” I say before taking a bite of food and moaning loudly. I haven’t had a roast this good since before leaving Ireland. “Norah, this is amazing. What kind of witchcraft do you use?”
Laughing, she pours us each a glass of wine. “What kind of witch gives up her secret spells? Also, don’t laugh, but what exactly is a hat trick? That sounds more witchy than me cooking a roast.”
I laugh anyway because she’s so fecking cute.
“I said don’t laugh!” She glares at me playfully.
“Sorry, love. Truly.” I grin at her before continuing. “A hat trick is when a player scores three goals in a single game.”
“Oh, okay. The announcer said today was your second hat trick. I take it that’s a big deal?” Norah asks curiously.
I nod around a bite of potatoes. I don’t want to sound like an arrogant arsehole, but I’m proud of my achievement.
“Well, then congratulations!” she says, tipping her glass in my direction.
We spend the next half hour eating and talking about the game. She’s genuinely interested, and I enjoy teaching her. Rhiannan never cared enough to ask. That should have been my first indication that she was messing around on me.
