“Absolutely not,” he said, drawing her face down so he could kiss her thoroughly. “I wish I could stay right here with you,” he murmured with regret.
“But you have work to do and miles to go before you sleep,” she said.
He regarded her with surprise. “Robert Frost?”
She laughed at his amazement. “I’m not entirely uneducated, you know.”
“Of course not. I just wasn’t sure your Irish schools would be teaching American poets.”
“Have you studied Shakespeare?” she inquired tartly.
“To my everlasting regret, yes.”
She smiled. “Well, there you go. Literature travels, Luke.”
“For better or worse,” he mumbled as he climbed from the bed.
“Oh, I don’t know. Another look at The Taming of the Shrew might serve you well,” she teased. “Some say it could have been written about me.”
He laughed, but then thought he detected a hint of worry beneath the taunting words. He went back to the bed. “You won’t be too much for me, Moira, mood swings and all.”
She smiled slowly. “Good to know, since turning into a saint overnight could be beyond me.”
He showered and dressed, then took a lingering look at her, still tangled in his sheets, several delectable curves bare. “Will you be here when I get back?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “I’ll need to get back to your grandmother’s. I don’t want to be rude by staying out all night on my second night here.”
“I could call and let her know you have plans,” he suggested. “That you’re with me. Believe me, she’ll understand.” He was struck by a thought. “Or is it Dillon you’re worried about?”
“No, I imagine he’d understand as well. It’s me, to be honest. It’s different being with you here, Luke.”
He frowned at that. “How so?”
“More serious, somehow. In Ireland, we were mostly on neutral turf as we traveled. This is your world. I’m scared to discover if I’ll truly fit in or if you’ll even want me to, especially now.”
“Why now?”
“Because there are jobs waiting for me back home, photography assignments that could actually lead to a real career. It’s my first chance to be successful at something entirely on my own.” She held his gaze. “You of all people know how much that matters, how much dedication is required.”
Despite his own sense that the timing for them was off, he was taken aback by her unexpected eagerness to get home to Dublin. And yet how could he not understand the draw of a newly discovered passion?
He sat beside her on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know what the future holds for us, Moira. I do know you’re important to me.” He studied her. “Can that be enough for now? Can we figure this out as we go? What I do know is that when the time comes for you to go—as you planned—I know I’ll regret it.”
“But will you want me to stay?”
“Can you honestly tell me you’d want to?” he replied. “Weren’t you the one just saying how much awaits you back home?”
His attempt to turn the tables on her clearly backfired, because she turned away and began gathering her clothes.
She finally turned to face him. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want you to fight to keep me here,” she said in a contrary tone.
He might have laughed, but it was obvious she couldn’t see the humor in the standoff. She was staring hard at him, her frustration plain.
“It’s easy enough to say how much you care when you’ve just climbed from this bed,” she grumbled. “But even I know it doesn’t guarantee a future. We obviously need time to figure things out.”
“We only have a month,” he said, his own frustration mounting. “Let’s not waste it being at odds over things we can’t control.”
“We had only a few weeks in Ireland,” she reminded him. “A month seems like an eternity stretching out ahead of us.”
“Not to me,” he admitted. Though he wasn’t yet ready to admit it to her or even to himself, he was beginning to wonder if even forever might not be enough. He also knew he needed to figure it out, because right at this moment, his mixed signals could easily drive her straight back to that fledgling career awaiting her in Dublin. After that, it could well be too late.
When he got back to the pub, Luke found both his brother and his uncle there waiting for him, and looking unhappy.
“Where the devil have you been?” Matthew demanded. “I thought this was meant to be a rush job, but if you can’t even stick around, why should Mick’s crew be putting in overtime?”
Luke winced. “Was there a problem? Everything seemed to be under control when I left. It’s not as if I’m doing the construction myself or even know that much about it. The two of you are in charge of that.”
“You still should have been here,” Matthew grumbled stubbornly.
Luke turned to his uncle. “I suppose you share my brother’s opinion that I’ve been lax by taking a couple of hours off.”
Mick chuckled. “Actually, I’m more curious about what was so important that it took you away from here. I’m guessing it was Moira.”
Matthew looked startled for a moment, then stared hard at Luke. “Was that it? Did you go off with impossible Moira?”
“Stop calling her that!” Luke told him heatedly.
“How many times have you called her that very thing yourself?” Matthew asked.
“It’s not the same when I say it,” Luke said, even though he knew he probably sounded ridiculous. What else could he add—that he said it with love? Not likely. “Now, has there been a crisis here while I was gone or not?”
“Oh, don’t mind
