Wild Irish Dreamer - Tricia O'Malley Page 0,19

now eluded him.

Fi had ducked out shortly after seeing him – something about a hen party and seeing Grace – but her cheeks were flushed, and she’d been quick to make her goodbyes. Liam liked when her cheeks tinged pink; it reminded him of her curled in bed, sated beneath him. Shifting uncomfortably on his stool, he tuned back into what Mr. Murphy was saying.

“Sure and that’s a sad loss for Cork in the hurling this weekend,” Liam quickly agreed, catching on that Mr. Murphy had wound his way back to sports. The old man had a routine to his conversations. It started with weather, moved on to politics, and finished with sports. After that, he’d be ready to take in any local gossip and add any tidbits of his own. Liam had learned more about how the village of Grace’s Cove was run by patiently sitting down with Mr. Murphy than he had at any of the board meetings with the village council.

“What’s my girl to you?” Cait startled him from the conversation, having snuck up behind him like a cat. She jammed her finger into his ribs.

“Hey!” Liam jerked away, shooting Cait a disgruntled look. “Damn, that finger is like steel.”

“Next time it’ll be a knife if you’re hurting my girl.”

“She’s a vicious one, Cait is,” Mr. Murphy nodded, sipping his Guinness. “I’ve seen her make Theodore O’Flanagan crawl out of here – all sixteen stone of him.”

“He deserved it, that he did, Mr. Murphy.”

“Never said he didn’t. But a wee lass like yourself should have trouble handling a man of his size.”

“Pssh, he’s a pussycat.” Cait waved that away and turned to focus on Liam. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt this lovely discussion,” Liam said, turning to take a sip from his own pint and collect himself.

“Are you avoiding me, Liam Mulder?”

“I am not. I’m just enjoying this fine beverage your lovely establishment has provided for me today.”

“Listen to the man. Evading the question,” Cait said.

“It does seem so, Cait. Perhaps you should let the man to his peace then. It’s hard to enjoy a pint with the hens pecking at you,” Mr. Murphy said, then winced when he saw Cait’s face. It was enough to make Liam laugh, for he didn’t think he’d ever seen the pub owner so flummoxed before. Emotions warred on her face – from wanting to clock Mr. Murphy on the head to wanting to give him leeway because he was pushing ninety and had been her most loyal customer.

“It’s a rare man who can get away with speaking such to me,” Cait decided, though Liam saw her fists ball at her sides.

“Cait, I’ll intervene before you tell dear Mr. Murphy here why he’s been a bit sexist in his comments.”

“Have I?” Mr. Murphy sat back and pulled at the newsboy cap he’d forgotten to take off. “Well now, I suppose that’s something I should apologize for. I understand it’s important to pay more attention to these things nowadays. I didn’t realize how on trend I was.”

Liam wasn’t sure if condescending remarks could be considered ‘on trend,’ but seeing as how the old man looked apologetic, he decided to let Cait handle this one.

“No woman wants to be made to feel like she’s just pestering a man while he’s having a drink. I have a valid interest in Liam’s stake in my girl, so I’ve a right to ask. Whether he’s having a pint or not,” Cait said.

“She’s speaking the truth, Liam.” Mr. Murphy wisely threw Liam to the wolves. “What’s our Fi to you then?”

Lovely, now he had the two of them teaming up against him. If he didn’t nip this in the bud, the whole village would be sniffing about in hours.

“I met Fi years ago when I was working on a contract for Sean up in Dublin. She came in as the translator.”

“Her first job,” Cait said, narrowing her eyes as she thought back.

“Aye, so it appears. I thought she was lovely and invited her for a drink.” Liam held up his hand as Cait shifted an assessing look at him. “That was back before I knew not to mix business and pleasure. Also, I didn’t know the familial relationship with Sean. He informed me and I canceled the date.”

“Smart man,” Cait murmured.

“I ran into Fi once again in Croatia – oh, say maybe seven or so years ago? I’d just had my heart broken and she was a friendly face. Not surprisingly, being your