Page 37 of What Love Can Do

Just because they hadn’t declared their love for one another and already decided what to do about it didn’t mean what they did have wasn’t worth working through. It hurt her that Quinn would say that, even as she knew that neither of them knew what they were saying half the time when it came to dealing with their feelings for one another. Just that they felt and felt strongly for one another, and given several complicating external factors, didn’t know what to do about it.

Risking odd looks, she walked to the tavern door, pulled on the handle, and heard the chimes, as she entered the humid warmth of the little pub. Everyone craned their necks to look at her, especially Conor, who gave her a confused glance, and she chose a stool at the end of the bar for some peace and quiet.

Paul shuffled over and wiped the area in front of her. “You okay there?”

“Fine.”

“Don’t sound fine to me. What’ll you be having? On the house.” He nodded.

Lilly registered the kindness in the older man’s face, his tight-lipped grimace that reminded her a bit of her father. “A Guinness, I guess. When in Rome…”

“Excellent choice. One pint of the black stuff, coming right up.” He tapped a spot of air in front of her nose, happy with a job to do, and went off to retrieve her drink.

Lilly sighed, kept her eyes off the corner where Bernie and friends were probably talking shit about her. They’d always been on the snooty side, or maybe, being older, they had always just intimidated the hell out of her.

Maybe Quinn’s walking away was for the best. Maybe it was life’s way of reminding her to stay focused. That bigger and better things awaited her in Miami. She might meet a hot Latino man who would sweep her off her feet and sing Enrique Iglesias songs to her. But it’s Irish boys I’ve always loved, she thought. Their saucy smartass banter—the craic, she thought—and the way Quinn kissed like a love god from Venus and laughed like Danny Boy drunk off his ass.

She felt the air next to her being displaced and turned slightly to see another swoony, beautiful smile directed at her. “Told you I was the better brother.” Con’s bright eyes smiled.

“Hey,” she mustered.

“You okay?”

“I will be. Your brother’s mad at me,” she said, noticing for the first time how Conor kept a close watch on her as she talked. Even after only a few words, he was tuned in and focused on her. A good listener, just like his brother.

“Eh, he’s an idiot. My brothers and I tried leaving him on the doorstep of a sorority house of nymphomaniacs back in Dublin, and even they wouldn’t take him.” He settled into the stool next to her, and Lilly couldn’t help but crack a smile. That makes me worse than the nymphos. Paul returned with her drink. On the other side of the counter, Dara began taking dirty glasses back to the kitchen to load in the dishwasher, giving Lilly a knowing smile.

She let out a calming breath. “That can’t be true,” Lilly said, hugging her Guinness close. “They could have at least kept him around as a muse, if not a love slave.” She smiled sheepishly, thinking of Quinn without his clothes on. His chiseled body. His arms, including those vein-roped forearms she loved gripping.

“Aye, that’s true, but even then…the poor maggot.” Conor signaled Paul for another beer then turned to Lilly again. “Listen, I don’t know what happened outside, and I might joke about you both and all, but the truth is, it’s been nice for me…seeing my older brother with a girl he fancies. You’ve really set him aglow, and I don’t mean since our mam died, I mean for the first time in a long time.”

She noted the sincerity in his solemn cheeks. “Thanks.” She allowed herself a smile. “That really means a lot.”

“It’s true. Quinn is the eldest, so he’s always done the responsible thing, ya know? Rarely have I ever seen him do anything for himself. It’s been a long time. Coming here was for him, spending time with you is for him. Maybe he’s just a little freaked out by it, that’s all, but he’ll come around. He’s not as stupid as he looks.”

Lilly wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. “I guess you’re right. But I screwed up, I think.”

“How so?”

“I said some things about your mom that I didn’t mean. It just didn’t sit right with him.”

He processed this a while, tapping on the bar and nodding. “Ah, feck him. He’ll come around. He really does fancy you. You just can’t mess with an Irish boy’s love for his mammy, that’s all.” Con pulled his beer toward him, tilted it back, and swallowed about half in one swig. “Did he tell you about our grandfather? Our mam’s dad?”

“Just that he stopped speaking to your mom.”

“More than that. We tried calling him before we left Dublin, to let him know that his daughter died. His daughter. And you know what that fuckface said? He didn’t have a daughter named Maggie. Can you believe that shite?”

Lilly stared at Con. She’d always known that Phillips Sr. had a hard edge about him, but she couldn’t imagine someone being so horrible to their own grandson. “Wow, that’s really cruel.”

“Yeah, and yet it didn’t stop my brother from wanting to come here. That’s how much he loved Mam. He wanted to see the town so adamantly.”

And yet, he’d been spending half his time with Lilly. She felt horrible guilt for the things she’d said outside. Horrible for even considering that Maggie had done what she had for love but had done it easily or carelessly. That it hadn’t weighed on her that she’d be hurting others even as she did what had been so obviously right for her.

She wondered if she should mention what she knew about Con’s mother to him, but then decided it wasn’t right. She’d only mentioned it to Quinn because she felt there should be no walls between them, no thorns in their blossoming friendship, but if Quinn wanted to, he could inform his brothers about the liaison between their mother and Lilly’s father.

Con stared nostalgically into his drink. “One of the last things Mam told us was to go and live our dreams. Thing is, none of us—least of all Quinn—knows where to begin. At least, he didn’t until coming here. So give him some time, Lil. He’ll come around.” Con flashed a sad smile at Lilly, bumped shoulders with her. “He’d be an arse not to.”

Then, he went back to watching the game.