Page 24 of Beer & Broomsticks
A small frown drew Ronan’s brows together as he watched the two of them… or rather as he met Ruairí’s uneasy look. What Ruairí had to be nervous about was a mystery, one Bridget intended to get to the bottom of when they were alone. As it was, she didn’t want to bring suspicion on him since she’d just defended him to her family.
“I hate to interrupt this little family spat, but perhaps one of you can fill me in on who this Loman character is, other than Ronan’s undesirable sperm donor,” Quentin said.
“Loman O’Connor is the meanest bastard you’ll ever meet,” Ruairí said, with another wary glance at his cousin. “He relishes pain, both for himself and what he can inflict on others.”
“He’s mad and bent on mayhem,” Ronan added grimly. “The abuse he heaped on my cousins is what twisted their minds.”
“What about your mind?” Holly asked softly.
Ronan seemed to turn inward as he thought about his answer. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I have a warped sense of right and wrong it seems, and I’ve no problem crossing a line when it comes down to it. But I’ve a fierce problem with women and children being used as pawns.”
“With the exception of Moira,” Roisin added with a hard look.
“Aye.” He met her look with a weary smile. “With the exception of Moira. If it comes down to her life or one of yours, I’ll see it’s hers that’s ended.”
“You trust him?” Bridget asked Ruairí in a whispered aside.
“I do. He’s as tired of the feud as I am,mo ghrá. He’s a good one to have on your team when it comes down to it.”
“But what if he’s playing you, too?”
Ruairí took time to think about it as they watched his cousin in deep conversation with Roisin and Carrick. As Bridget waited for him to reply, she noted Quentin’s watchfulness. For all his easygoing ways, he wasn’t as trusting of Ronan as he appeared. And with Quentin on guard, she felt marginally better. They’d have the magical backup when they needed it. But she also worried about the children. If Loman wasn’t opposed to using them in his war, then they needed to be protected, as did Piper, who was pregnant with hers and Cian’s first child.
“I don’t think Ronan’s playing us,” Ruairí eventually said. “He’s been a victim in all of this as much as your family, and I’m of the mind he wants to do the right thing.”
“If you vouch for him, it’s good enough for me, it is.”
He gave her a startled look, followed by a delighted grin. “You’re taking my word? Sure, and have I died and gone to the Otherworld? Because I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Go on with ya!” She nudged him with her shoulder, trying and failing to maintain a stern expression. She laughed when he tackled her down on the sofa and rained kisses on her face. “Stop, you fool!”
“Sure, and I don’t care if they all know of me undyin’ love for you, Bridget O’Malley.”
His playfulness caused her to giggle and had everyone around them gaping in surprise. Rarely did anyone see this side of her. The Bridget they knew was the forceful big sister, the sharp businesswoman, the protector of their small family. Not the giddy girl who adored the silly boy next door.
Clasping his beloved face between her palms, she stared up at him. “You’re an eejit, Ruairí O’Connor.” And there was fondness in her tone for all to hear. It was as far as she’d go to declare her feelings for him, because she wasn’t sure she was ready for what any stronger sentiment would commit her to. “Now get off me before I send your bollocks into up into your stomach, yeah?”
He scrambled to his feet and pulled her up with him. “You’ve only to ask me nicely,mo ghrá.”
Ronan wasjealous of his cousin his carefree existence. Always the rebel, always the one to reject the ongoing feud, always the one on the side of the O’Malleys, Ruairí had brought down hell upon himself. Yet, never was he swayed from his deep abiding love for Bridget. ’Twas as if they were one soul in two bodies. Even as a child, Ronan had envied their bond. He’d watch as they snuck away to be together, giggling all the while in their belief no one knew of their trysts.
But Ronan never told another.
Part of him believed any O’Connor with a soft side was destined for disappointment and pain, but he also believed if they had the grit and determination to try, then more power to them. Who was he to destroy what those two had built?
Ruairí had done that all his own by kissing Molly Mae in his effort to provoke Bridget’s jealousy and her desire to fight for him. His gross miscalculation had subjected him to endless years of heartache. But his cousin hadn’t been wrong about Bridget’s reaction, or what it should’ve been. He’d just failed to consider any outside influences.
Ronan had the ability to alter Bridget’s mind at the time, and he’d chosen to do so. It had been before he himself had experienced love and the crushing hurt that it could leave in its wake. Before he knew what it was like to lose the woman you adored above all others. If he’d have known, he’d never have interfered.
“I’m sorry.”
Ruairí and Bridget shared a confused look before turning their gazes to him.
“Sure, and what do you have to be sorry about, Ronan?”
Admitting what he’d done would find him no favor with his cousin, nor the O’Malleys, but Ronan needed to do it anyway. “For turning Bridget away from you on the day you kissed Molly Mae.”
“But I’ve never met you before today,” Bridget protested. “And I think I’d know my own mind on such matters, I would.”
