“Or you could boss me around a bit,” he offered. “I’ve some experience in the landscaping business, you know.” He winked at her. “You might enjoy telling me what to do.”
She laughed then. “I might at that. Shall we go inside and say hello to Bree?”
“Of course,” he said at once. “I want to tell her how impressed I am.”
Once they’d spent a few minutes with Bree, Nell led the way to Shanna’s bookstore next door. She had to admit that she was relieved to take a seat in the café area and accept the cup of Earl Grey tea that Shanna brought her while Dillon explored the shelves for a supply of books about the region.
“I have most of those at home,” Nell told him when he showed her his selections. “Thomas sees to it that I read everything on this area. He’s always turning up with the latest book he feels supports his cause to save the bay.”
“But I want to give Shanna the sale, and these can be shipped over to Dublin, so I’ll have them on my own shelves.”
His words sent a cold chill through her. “Are you already so anxious to get back home?”
He looked stunned by the question. “Good heavens, no. Why would you ask such a thing?”
She hesitated, then said, “The truth is that I’ve been hoping to convince you to stay longer. I didn’t want to broach it just yet, but there it is.” She met his gaze. “Will you at least consider it?”
Dillon reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I thought we agreed—”
She cut him off. “I know what we agreed,” she said impatiently, “but sometimes things change. People change.”
Worry carved deeper lines in his forehead. “Nell, this isn’t the first time I’ve sensed that something’s wrong. Will you tell me what it is? Please. I’m worried. Are you ill?”
She sighed at having been caught so easily. “It’s nothing, really. Nothing specific, anyway. When I came home, for the first time ever, my blood pressure was high. The doctor put me on medication and insisted I monitor myself. I know, in the overall scheme of things, something like that shouldn’t be a shock at my age, but it was to me. After years of avoiding most medications, I’m now taking something that leaves me light-headed and tired. All of a sudden, I feel every one of my years. It’s shaken me a little—far more than it should, given what a simple remedy there is for it.”
“Has the medicine worked?”
She nodded. “The doctor’s pleased. Other than the annoying side effects, I should be as well. Still, I know how these things go. First it’s blood pressure medicine, then something for cholesterol. The next thing I know, I’ll have an array of bottles on my kitchen table and one of those little daily pill containers so someone reliable can sort them all out and be sure I take them on schedule.”
Dillon looked surprisingly relieved by her admission. He reached in his pocket and pulled out exactly the sort of pill container she’d just described.
“You mean one like this?” he asked. “I’ve had it for years. No one’s filling it for me just yet, and I don’t imagine that’ll be necessary for a good many years to come as long as I keep my wits about me. I imagine you’ll be in full control for a very long time as well, given that stubborn streak you O’Briens are known for.”
She looked from the rectangular plastic container to his bright and sparkling eyes. “Mountain out of a molehill?” she asked.
He nodded. “That’s the way I see it.”
“I’m afraid I was seeing it as the first step on a slippery slope.”
“Ah, Nell, don’t give in so easily. There are far too many of us who need you right here and you’re not the type to abandon ship.”
“I never thought I was,” she admitted. “I’ll take what you’ve said to heart.” She met his gaze. “But I still wouldn’t mind it if you’d consider staying longer, as long as you’d like, in fact.”
“Now that,” he said readily, “would be my pleasure.”
For the first time since the doctor had completely disconcerted her with that prescription and his dire warnings about ignoring her hypertension, she felt hopeful again. In fact, she was suddenly as optimistic about the future as she’d been when she’d first reconnected with Dillon in Dublin.
And, she thought wryly, she’d have to tell Luke and his mother, they could stop hovering. The pair of them weren’t nearly as subtle as they clearly thought they were.
7
Luke picked up sandwiches, sweet-potato fries and drinks from Panini Bistro, then led Moira to a bench across the street so they would be near the water while they ate. On a weekday in early spring, the narrow strip of sand was mostly deserted, and the only people out for a stroll were the locals. They had the view mostly to themselves.
“Would you have preferred eating in a restaurant?” he asked her. “I could have taken you to Brady’s. It’s on the water.”
“No, this is exactly what I wanted,” she said, unwrapping her sandwich and taking a bite. “Perfect. The jalapeños were a nice touch.”
He chuckled. “I remembered how you love spicy things. That Indian curry we had just about took the top of my head off.”
“As it was meant to do,” she teased. “And there’s a lesson in there as well. Spicy food encourages people to order more drinks.”
“Pub food isn’t known for its kick,” he pointed out.
“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t make a few adjustments to
