He aimed a long, measured stare at her before he finally answered. “This is Bordertown. What haven’t you seen done on purpose around here?”
She flushed, feeling naïve and a lot like a fool, but she didn’t jump up and run away, no matter that it was her first, second, and third instinctive reaction. Something about his attitude—his anger at the arsonist who’d shown so little consideration for human life—caught at her and made her want to know more about him.
Anything about him.
Like his name, for instance.
“I’m Brynn Carroll, and I can’t believe you haven’t asked me about being a swan. That’s usually a big topic of conversation with me and new people,” she said, lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders. Ready for the barrage of questions.
She could do this. She could meet a new person. She firmed her lips and then found the courage to hold out her hand. Normal people shook hands.
“Sean O’Malley, and I figured you’d tell me when and what you wanted to tell,” he said, and then she caught what had only been teasing the edges of her senses before—the slightest lilt of Ireland infusing the music of his voice.
When his big, strong hand carefully enfolded hers, a gentle wave of warmth spread over her. She was glad to be sitting down, because she suddenly knew her knees would have gone weak and wobbly if she’d been standing. He was big, and he looked rough and scary and dangerous, especially here in the dark, illuminated only by the glow of the lanterns, but he’d taken her hand so carefully, as if it were something to be cherished.
As if she were someone to be cherished.
She pulled her hand away, banishing the fancies as she did. Loneliness was her only companion most nights; that didn’t mean she had the time or inclination to transform a chance encounter into a romantic interlude. Not even in the privacy of her deepest yearnings.
She already knew that love never, ever would be an option for her.
“I have to go,” she blurted out, jumping up and ready to run.
“Breakfast?”
As with please, the single word stopped her when a dozen might not have.
“In a brightly lit, public place, I promise,” he said, holding his hand over his heart and smiling that almost smile again.
She started to shake her head. He was too tempting, too intriguing, too . . . too everything.
“Unless you only eat birdseed.” He finally stood, stepping back so as not to loom over her, which was good, since the top of her head came to about his nose.
Her lips quirked into a smile, almost in spite of herself. “No, I don’t eat birdseed. I’m more of a pumpkin pancakes girl, actually. With bacon. Lots of bacon.”
He groaned, a deep noise that sounded like it came from the depths of his being, and it made her wonder what noises he’d make in the middle of lovemaking. As soon as the idea danced into her mind, she blushed so hot that she was glad for the darkness.
“Bacon. And eggs. And hashbrowns. Coffee. Lots of coffee,” he said. “I think I’m going to like you, Brynn Carroll.”
“I am very likable,” she dared to say, as if she’d suddenly become a woman who knew how to flirt with an unbelievably gorgeous man. Now he’d make fun of her, surely.
Instead, he grinned, and his smile felt like a gift he’d given her to unwrap.
“Breakfast?”
“Breakfast,” she agreed. “Where should we go?”
“Anywhere but O’Malley’s,” he said cheerfully, and she suddenly made the connection.
“You’re one of those O’Malleys? The O’Malley’s Pub O’Malleys?”
Everybody knew at least one of the O’Malleys; well, everybody except Brynn. Until now. They were big and brash; quick to anger and quicker to forgive, everybody said. They’d owned the pub for a long time, and everybody in Bordertown drank there or at the Roadhouse. O’Malley’s had Irish music on the weekends, and Brynn had lingered outside the pub on occasion, listening to the lovely sound and wishing with all of her heart that she’d had the courage to step inside and join the fun.
Sean reached out to take her hand, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to hold hands with a woman he’d only met mere moments after she’d transformed from waterfowl to human.
“Yes, I’m one of those O’Malleys, but don’t hold it against me. I like to pretend I’m adopted,” he confided.
For the first time in a very long while, Brynn laughed out loud.