“You’re looking especially lovely today,” he whispered in her ear. The pink in her cheeks deepened to a fiery shade of red that no makeup in the world could match or conceal.
“Stop that!” she said, her voice hushed, her tone indignant.
He laughed. “Stop what? Complimenting you?”
“Yes.”
“The only way that’ll happen is if you stop looking so beautiful. You take my breath away.”
She regarded him with exasperation, hands on her slender hips. “You know, for years now, I’ve been hearing about the O’Brien talent for blarney, but this is the very first time I’ve been on the receiving end.”
“It’s not blarney if it’s the gospel truth,” he insisted.
“Well, truth or fiction, your timing needs some work. You do realize that we’re surrounded by members of your family?”
“So?”
“They’re known for carrying tales,” she reminded him.
Thomas chuckled, unimpressed by her warning. “There’s no one in the family whose opinion worries me,” he said truthfully. “How about you?”
She seemed surprised by his attitude. “Are you really so confident that people aren’t going to be shocked or appalled if they find out we’re seeing each other?”
“I’ll have you know I consider you to be a perfectly respectable woman,” he said, enjoying the quick rise of color that stained her cheeks again. She was so wonderfully easy to tease.
“It’s not me they’ll be questioning,” she said, practically sputtering with indignation. “You’re the one with the wicked reputation.”
“Wicked, is it?”
“Two wives. That could be considered quite scandalous in some circles. In fact, I imagine your own mother has had quite a bit to say about it.”
“I didn’t have them at the same time,” he countered. “It was all in a perfectly respectable sequence. As for Ma and me, we’ve made peace over my decisions. She learned years ago it was a waste of her breath to try to control me.”
Her lips twitched at his response, and a sparkle lit her eyes. “Do you not take anything seriously?”
Thomas sobered at once. “I do,” he said. “My work and, lately, you.”
She blinked as his words sank in, then shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Quite a lot, I hope. Shall we start with dinner tonight?”
She hesitated for so long, he thought he might have overplayed his hand.
“I’m not at all sure I’m ready to handle a man like you,” she told him, though her expression was oddly wistful when she said it.
“Connie, my love, I think you can handle anything life throws your way,” he said with total sincerity. “I’ll be putty in your hands.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” she said tartly. “But I suppose dinner’s not too big a risk.”
“Good for you,” he said. “And tonight we’re going to Brady’s. No more hiding in out-of-the-way places.”
“Are you sure about that?” she asked doubtfully.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” he said. He studied her intently. “How about you? Are you worried about Jake’s opinion? Or your daughter’s?”
“I’ll admit they’re going to be surprised, but they’d probably be stunned if I got involved with any man after all these years.”
“Then there’s no one standing in our way, is there?”
“I suppose not,” she conceded.
“Good for you,” he said. Because if there was one thing he knew with absolute certainty, it was that if the two of them were to have half a chance, their relationship had to be open and aboveboard from the start. There was no shame in what they were doing. And whatever doubts his meddling family—or her protective one—might throw at them, it was better to get them out of the way sooner, rather than later.
When Jess got back to the inn late on Saturday afternoon, the kitchen was empty except for an obviously panic-stricken Ronnie.
“Thank goodness,” Ronnie said to her when she walked in. “I’ve been calling your cell phone for over an hour.”
She reached into her purse, then muttered a curse. “Sorry. I guess I left it in the office.” She mentally berated herself even as she admitted the oversight. Forgetting the phone broke one of her cardinal rules on the weekend: never to be out of touch with the inn. What was wrong with her? This was the kind of slipup that drove her crazy.
“You’re here now,” Ronnie said. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What?”
“Gail got sick and had to leave. She told me to take charge, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, and the restaurant’s going to be packed tonight. I took half a dozen reservations myself before I knew she was going to take off.” He gave Jess a pleading look. “Maybe we should close.”
Jess wondered for an instant if he wasn’t right about that. Then again, even if she were dying, Gail wouldn’t have gone off and left Ronnie to take over if she didn’t think he could handle it.
“Let’s take a look at the menu,” she suggested, trying to approach the problem methodically to minimize her own increasing panic. “Tell me which of the dishes you think you can handle.”
He glanced over the three main courses, then shrugged. “I’ve helped her with all of them. I guess I could manage as long as there’s some help in here.”
“I’ll get you help,” Jess said.
She picked up the phone and called Kevin. “I have a crisis.”
Fifteen minutes later, her brother arrived with Abby and Gram in tow. Jess regarded her grandmother with dismay.
“Gram, I can’t ask you to pitch in around here.”
Her grandmother gave her a withering look. “I don’t see why not. I’ve cooked for a crowd many a time. And, truth be told, I’m far better at it than your sister is. If Abby stays, I stay.”
Jess recognized the determined lift of her chin and nodded. “Okay, then, thank you.”
She turned to see that Kevin and Ronnie were already huddled over the menus and Gail’s laminated pages of recipes. Her brother glanced
