or so, to where he towered over her.
“Holly Bennett,” he said, making her name sound almost…reverent.
Clearly she was hallucinating that last part. Leftover dregs of her teenage fantasies. Serious jet lag. Whatever. She was exhausted and stressed out and he was just standing there, all casually godlike. Anyone would have a hard time thinking straight. “Yes,” she said, somewhat stupidly, in response, but not knowing, really, what else to say to that.
“It’s me, Sean,” he said, then added, “Gallagher.”
As if she might not be aware.
“I—right. It’s—uh, yes. Yes, I know who you are. And—well, it’s a pleasure. Sean. To see you. Again.” She stuck her hand out. It was that or start digging a hole straight to China. And there she was, with no shovel.
He grinned and took her hand, but rather than give it a polite, casual little shake, he held on to it. In fact, went so far as to cover it with his other hand, apparently completely unaware what that did to her already overloaded hormonal circuits, considering he just stood there, smiling down at her with something that looked like a mix of delight and affection plastered all over his handsome face.
It was that affection part that totally froze her up. Reverting her back to sixteen, when all she could do was stare. God only knew what expression was on her face. All she knew was that his hands were big and warm…and her body was swiftly following suit on the latter part.
She’d like to think a dozen years living independently in London, in the fast-paced world of advertising, would have long pushed her past her shyness and the paralyzing fear that always came with speaking in front of groups. Sometimes groups of one. Especially when they looked and sounded like Sean Gallagher. And, back in London, she most definitely had. She wouldn’t have made a very successful art director if she hadn’t. And she had been. Successful. But that was business. This…she didn’t know what this was. All she knew was she was a long way from London, and her smart, confident, savvy London self hadn’t apparently made the trans-Atlantic flight along with her.
Standing there, staring, she still felt exactly like the awkward sophomore she’d once been, looking at all of his senior perfection and feeling her tongue tie into knots. Right along with her stomach.
“I miss your folks,” he said as they continued to stand there, and stare. “But I got a postcard and note from your mom from their cruise ship. Sounds like retirement is agreeing with them.”
“Yes, yes it is,” she said, finally coming out of her pheromone stupor and slipping her hand from his. “Well, I shouldn’t keep you. I’d—I’d better get inside and—” She glanced at the store and faltered. She had no idea what she was going to do when she got inside, so she just plastered a smile on her face and grabbed the handle of her suitcase before he could again. “Good to see you.”
“I heard you were coming back to take over the store,” he said as she bumped her suitcase up the curb and fumbled with the keys.
“I—” She didn’t know yet what she’d come back to do, or not do, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “Right.” Finally, blessedly, she turned the lock and the dead bolt and swung the door open.
“I’m glad you’re back in town, Holly Bennett.”
She glanced back at him, standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, chef apron tied perfectly around his hips, somehow looking all the more manly for it. He also looked like he was freezing.
“Me, too,” she said inanely, for the lack of any real reply of substance. Or honesty.
Just then someone stuck their head out of the front door of the restaurant. Where Sean’s hair was a dark, thick mop of waves, this head was closely shorn and red. But the easy grin and dancing eyes proclaimed him yet another Gallagher. And, if that wasn’t enough, the thick brogue was final proof.
“Sean, me boy, we’re sinkin’ in here, doncha know. And O’Hara’s called back twice now. I think you can get quite a deal on the mahi mahi and the scallops both if you play it right. You can flirt about later.” He sent a small salute and a wink toward Holly. “Unless I finish me chores first.”
“Right, Mick,” Sean called back, never once taking his own twinkling eyes off of Holly. “My cousin,” he told her, by way of explanation. “Come from Cork