Their dinner arrived, roast duck with blackberry compote for her, something involving sea bass for him. The food was excellent. The tension, less so.
At one point,she dropped her fork.
Of course, it bounced across the floor, landing near Ronan’s table.
She bent to grab it, and when she looked, Ronan was still gazing at her. Eyes like steel, mouth tight, like he was debating throwing his plate at Declan’s head.
“I’m sorry,” she said, smiling. “I didn’t want to fork you.”
His brother laughed and glanced at his brother, who only continued to stare daggers at her like she was cheating on him or something.
It had been a kiss. Nothing more.
Brendan leaned in and whispered something that made Ronan mutter a word that was probably not safe for the ears of any nearby nuns.
Declan seemed oblivious or chose to be. “So tell me, what do you really want to do here, Aisling? I mean, if you could stay, work, and write, would you?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know. I came here to settle an estate. Now it feels like I’m unearthing ghosts and fighting goats and making enemies with flower-loving men.”
“Ronan?” Declan asked, grinning.
“Oh, he’s not my enemy,” she said, swirling her wine. “He’s my personal migraine in a Henley.”
Declan laughed, but it was tighter this time. “Well, just remember, migraines can be managed. Sometimes eliminated altogether.”
She blinked.
Before she could respond, Brendan appeared at their table.
“I’m Brendan Gallagher, by the way,” he said.
“Aisling O’Byrne,” she said, gripping his hand.
He leaned in, all charm and crooked grin. “Sorry to interrupt. But my brother has been staring so hard, he’s in danger of burning a hole through that wrap dress. Would you mind standing up and twirling for us?”
Aisling gasped. Declan leaned back in his chair, amused.
“Yes, I would,” she said. “Tell your brother he can suck on a lemon for all I care.”
The boy chuckled. “Oh, I like your spirit.”
“I swear to God, I’ll throw this fire poker like a Gáe Bolga at him if he doesn’t stop glaring at me. Tell him to lighten up. I’m having dinner with a friend.”
Ronan’s brother smiled. The kid was handsome just like his older brother but taller, more outgoing, and laid-back. And yet, she’d heard he got into trouble.
“Ignore him. I adore how you seem to get under his skin,” Brendan said. “I’m the chaos goblin. But if you ever need rescuing from brooding men and nosy villagers, I’m your guy.”
He winked, then sauntered back to his seat like he hadn’t just blown up the entire dinner.
Aisling groaned. “Why did God make two of them?”
Declan chuckled. “Subtle, aren’t they?”
“Subtle like Céilí in a rose garden.”
They finished dinner, conversation stalling slightly as the mood shifted. Declan was still charming, still easy to talk to—but the temperature had changed. And not just because Ronan hadn’t taken his eyes off her all night.
There was something about Declan that set off warning bells inside her. In some ways, he reminded her of Michael, and she knew how that ended. Plus, there wasBrid’swarning.
