Kissing him was a big mistake. Huge mistake.
She didn’t want the town to think they were back together.
And she sure as hell didn’t wanthimthinking that either.
"Well," she said airily, turning toward the bar and picking up her whiskey. "That settles that. The crowd got their show. You can all go home now."
Ronan leaned against the bar next to her, way too casual for a man who had just been kissed like his life depended on it.
He picked up his own whiskey, lifted it in salute, and said loud enough for the whole pub to hear, "To the O’Byrne and Gallagher feud. May it continue forever in public make-out sessions."
More roaring laughter. Someone even shouted, "Marry her already, you coward!"
Aisling downed her whiskey in one savage gulp and slammed the glass on the bar.
"Keep dreaming, Gallagher," she said, her voice sugar-sweet and loaded with venom. "This was a one-time show. You’re not getting a sequel. Remember, your grandfather is evicting me in less than ninety days.”
He tilted his head, studying her with those stormy blue eyes that had once melted her knees with just a glance.
Tonight? Tonight, she barely wobbled.
“He’s a demented old man,” he said softly.
“Doesn’t matter. There will be no more make-out sessions in the pub. We’re officially done,” she said.
"Are you sure about that?" he murmured, low enough that only she could hear it.
"Absolutely," she lied.
He laughed under his breath, the sound deep and rough and maddening. "You keep telling yourself that, darling. But don’t forget, I’m coming for you.”
Before she could think of a sufficiently savage comeback, a group of locals swarmed them, slapping Ronan on the back and clapping her on the shoulder like she’d just scored the winning goal at a championship match.
"Finally!" Mrs. Flannery cried, tears in her eyes. "You two aremeant to be.”
"I'll call Father O’Malley!" someone shouted. "He'll marry you tonight!"
Aisling forced a tight smile and elbowed her way through the crowd toward the door. She needed air. She needed space. She needed Ronan Gallagher about as much as she needed a second goat terrorizing the neighborhood.
Ronan was hot on her heels, of course. Because he was Ronan.
She stepped out into the cool night air, breathing deeply, staring up at the stars, and wishing she could teleport back to New York. Maybe she wasn’t meant to be here in Mountshannon after all. Maybe she should book her trip back to the Big Apple.
Behind her, Ronan leaned casually against the pub's stone wall, arms crossed, and one eyebrow lifted.
"You’re running," he said.
"I’m breathing," she snapped. "And if you don’t want me to start screaming about goats and contracts and blood feuds in front of the whole town, I suggest you stay ten feet away from me."
He straightened, hands up like he was surrendering. "Fine. Truce for tonight."
She narrowed her eyes.
"But listen to me," he said, stepping closer anyway. His voice dropped to a low rumble that diddangerousthings to her knees. "Whatever’s between us, whatever you're pretending isn't there, it's not going away just because you’re pissed at me."
"I’m notpissed," she said through gritted teeth. "I’mdone."
"Done," he repeated, slow and thoughtful. "That’s why you kissed me like you wanted to climb me like a tree five minutes ago?"
