Always and Forever (6 page)

“You do anything you can, Patrick, for the person you love.”

He wondered if the comment was meant for him, about Brie.
He also wondered if the statement was true. Should he do
anything
for Brie?

A knock sounded at the pub door. Liam said, “Looks like our first hire’s here.”

“I’ll let you go.” Bailey’s eyes dimmed. “I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too,” Aidan put in. “A lot, Bay.”

She just nodded. Pat knew she’d gotten choked up, so they let her sign off.

Liam strode to the door, let in Gale
Sullivan. From outside, the beeping of horns and some shouts filtered in. “Hey, Gale.” Liam offered his hand and they shook. “Come on and meet the rest of the guys.”

Gale greeted them all. “Do I get to cook today?”

Laughing, Liam shook his head. “I thought maybe you’d be my sous chef for a while.”

“Great.”

The door opened again and in walked Jamie Ralston.

“She’s so little,”
Aidan murmured. “Sure she can handle this?”

“She’s stronger than she looks. You should’ve seen her carry her three-year-old home the other day.”

Jamie approached the bar with a sun-bright smile on her face. “Hi, there.”

Again, the guys introduced themselves, as well as Gale, who said, “Nice to meet you, Jamie. I hope we both make it here.”

“I will. You will, too, if you really
want to.”

Well, the lass didn’t lack self-confidence.

When Liam and Gale left for the kitchen, Jamie turned to Pat. A thick braid hung down her back, and she wore simple black pants and a white shirt. “What do we do first?”

Dylan snatched a menu and handed it to her. “We have some staples every day, as well as the special of the day. A lot of the customers are regulars, but since Bailey
became First Lady, we get tourists galore.”

“I like tourists. They have such a different view of New York.” She grinned at Dylan. “By the way, I’ve been reading your back columns for
CitySights.
I’m glad you found KPRAY was legit.”

Dylan hesitated. “Are you a donor?”

“Nope. I’m Catholic, through and through.”

“As we are.” Aidan said. “Come on, I’ll show you how to set up, then
you can spend some time acquainting yourself with the food list. You can work with me and Sophie when we serve lunch today.”

“Great.”

When she walked away, Dylan stared after her. “Pretty sure of herself, isn’t she?”

“I guess she’d have to be to make it on her own. Poor girl.”

Dylan socked him on the shoulder. “Don’t take on somebody else to worry about, Paddy. You do enough of
that with your family.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that. But wait till your kid comes along. You’ll do the same.”

“I’m sure I will. But you worry about all of us.”

“How’s Rachel?” Patrick asked to change the subject.

“You’re gonna find out. She’s coming in for lunch. I thought we’d see how Jamie does from the customer side.”

“Good idea.”

“Yeah, buddy, I have one once in
a while.”

“Come on then, help me set up back here.”

“Yes, sir,” Dylan said jokingly and circled the bar.

As he put his hands in soapy water, Pat’s heart did a little two-step. He was glad Dylan felt comfortable enough to tease, to be busting balls and shooting the shit. After their conflict over Rachel, they were all finally getting back to themselves. Not that Pat was looking forward
to seeing Rachel. But he’d promised Brie he’d be better about her, and he would.

“Let’s roll out the pastry first—the dough’s all made.” Liam handed Gale a mound the size of a toaster. “We make the meal in those big aluminum pans so we’ll have enough for lunch and dinner.”

Gale, a tall, slender man with the eyes of a poet, carried himself comfortably. He took the dough,
floured a surface on the wooden-topped island and began to roll it out. Liam punched the batch he’d saved for himself. He liked the feel of the quite gooey dough.

Gale asked, “Is everything you make Irish?”

“Pretty much. That’s why people come here.” He studied the guy as he bent over the pastry. “You do like Irish food, don’t you?”

“Are you kidding? I was raised right.” His tone was
dry.

“Oh, good. You ever had chicken and leek pie?”

“Absolutely. My ma had a great recipe.” He studied Liam. “Let’s see how yours compares to ours.”

They worked in silence. Liam considered the man before him. He seemed genuine and interested but kind of sad. Liam knew sad. And mourning. After Kitty died, he thought he was never going to come out of his funk. Luckily, Sophie had come
along.

When they finished with the pastry, they went on to the casserole. Liam cut up the chicken he’d cooked yesterday. Gale tackled the ham. It was kind of fun having somebody to work with. None of the guys ever took an interest in preparing the food. Gale knew to layer the chicken, leeks, ham and onions, seasoning each with the mace, salt and pepper until the pan was full. Liam poured the
chicken stock and cream over it.

“I’ve never seen this dish made with mace.”

“From the nutmeg seed.”

“I know. And we never used heavy cream.”

“No?”

“It was probably too expensive.”

Once the dishes were baking, Liam put the Irish wheat bread, which had raised to perfection, into another oven.

“So, we just wait?” Gale asked.

“Hell, no. We start prepping for tomorrow.
We’re having corn-beef-and-cabbage, and we have to make soda bread.”

Just then the back door opened and in walked Sophie. The light of Liam’s life. His heart still lurched whenever he caught sight of her. “There’s my girl.” She wore plain black pants and a green pub shirt which made her eyes catlike.

“And you’re my guy,” she announced as she walked right to him and gave him a big smack
on the lips. Then she turned to Gale. “Hello, you must be Gale. I’m Sophie, Liam’s wife.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Hmm. Again, Liam noticed Gale’s expression had darkened, and his mouth grooved around the edges. He wondered how deeply the man was hurting.

At noon, Brie approached the back door of the pub with Rachel beside her. “I’m surprising Pat,” she told Rachel. “He
doesn’t know I’m coming.”

“That’s nice.” Rachel hesitated, still somewhat uncomfortable with the O’Neils, Brie guessed. “Dylan keeps track of me like a hawk. Hogan, too.”

“Because you’re pregnant.”

“I know. It’s going to be a constant battle to do anything by myself. I guess I don’t care, though.” She put her hand on her belly. “I’m just so happy about this.”

They opened the door
and stepped inside.

“Hey, look who’s here.” Liam went to Brie and gave her a hug. Then he did the same with Rachel. Of all the brothers, he was the one who’d wholly accepted Rachel into the fold. Pat was trying, though.

Brie sniffed. “Hmm, is that chicken?”

“Pot pie.”

Rachel added, “I’m dying over the bread I smell.”

Without asking, Liam went to the loaf that had come out of
the oven and cut off a slice, buttered it and handed it to Rachel. “For the lovely pregnant woman.”

She bit into the hot piece and practically swooned. “Thanks, I’m always hungry.”

“My wife was, too, with my boys.” He turned to Gale. “Ladies, this is our new cook.”

Gale greeted them, then couldn’t seem to stop staring at Brie. It made her a bit uncomfortable.

After introductions
were made, the women headed to the pub. The place was filled to capacity, with people lining up outside the door. Sophie took orders with a woman by her side, and Dylan delivered food to another table. Sinead, Sean and Hogan cleared dishes from tables that had been vacated. Pat noticed her and Rachel.

His eyes brightened when his gaze landed on Brie. “Well, hello there.”

“Hey, handsome.”

“Hi, Rachel.” Pat’s voice, at least, was friendly.

“Patrick.”

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said to Brie, leaning over the bar for a kiss. “I didn’t know you were comin’ in.”

“I invited myself when Rachel said she’d be here for lunch.”

His brow knitted. “I thought you were working.”

“Everybody has to eat.”

Dylan noticed them on his way to the kitchen. “Hey, woman,
gimme a hug.”

Rachel embraced him, and afterward he placed his hand on her stomach. “How’s my guy in there?”

“You know you’re having a boy?” Brie asked.

“Nope.” Dylan’s expression was goofy. “Just hoping.”

“I don’t care what the baby is.” Rachel was looking tenderly at Dylan. “And you don’t, either.”

Dylan pointed to a table by the window. “That’s yours. Enjoy.”

The women
threaded their way through the crowded room and sat down. Brie relaxed back in her plain work clothes, but Rachel sat straight up in in a pretty yellow dress. “So, I’m sure you’re sick of people asking this, but are you feeling okay?”

“Much better. The nausea’s gone, at least.”

“You look great. Your cheeks are nice and rosy, and your hair is even more gorgeous than usual.”

“Pregnancy
hormones.”

Hogan came up to the table. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming.” He kissed Rachel on the cheek. “You’d better eat some protein and not too many carbs.”

Both women hid smiles. “I will, Hogan. I’m cooking for you guys tonight, too, so I’ll make sure it’s healthy.”

When Hogan left, Brie shook her head. “Mini Dylan’s acting like Big Dylan.”

“I think it’s cute.”

Sophie
approached them with the new girl. She made introductions and Jamie Ralston blurted out, “Oh, wow, Rachel Scott. I watch your show every night if I’m home.”

“Thanks.” Rachel smiled warmly.

“And Mrs. O’Neil. Your husband has been so kind to me. I’m so grateful for the chance to work here.”

Brie laughed. “Make it Brie.” She’d willingly taken Pat’s name, grateful that he’d agreed to marry
her. Neither Bailey nor C.J. had changed their names, though.

“Think you can handle this table alone?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah, sure.”

When Sophie left, Jamie said, “I hope I do okay.”

“You will.” Brie glanced at the menu. “I’ll have sparkling water. And the dish of the day.”

Rachael concurred. “Same here.”

“Thanks for making my solo endeavor easy.”

When Jamie left, Brie
turned to Rachel. “So, are we going to have another Mrs. O’Neil?”

“Yes, soon. The baby and all.”

“Wouldn’t you marry anyway, Rachel? After you went through so much to be together?”

“Of course. I don’t know why I said that.”

“If I know Dylan, he must be chomping at the bit to make you his wife.”

Rachel leaned back in her seat and took a bead on Brie. “You and Pat didn’t get
married right away though, did you?”

“Nope. Sinead was a year old. There was hell to pay, I’ll tell you.”

“I don’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s okay. I’d just turned twenty when I had my son. Patrick and I had been together for six months when I got pregnant, but I just wasn’t ready for marriage.”

“Wasn’t it hard, raising the baby by yourself?”

“I didn’t do that. Pat had him half
the time.”

“But you implied he wanted to get married.”

“Yeah, we weren’t together, but he was unbelievably attentive to Sinead.”

“What happened?”

“One day, I decided I was ready. I was lonely, tired and wanted a life with Pat. It took me a while to convince him, though, he was so mad at the delay.”

“Sounds like a rocky beginning.”

“All of us have had rocky beginnings. Every
single O’Neil couple.”

“Well, I’m thrilled that part’s over for me.”

Reaching across the table, she squeezed Rachel’s hand. “I am, too. Dylan was a mess when you were apart. As were you.”

“I’ll never forget that day you three marched into the station. I thought you were going to rail on me.”

“Nah, we O’Neil women have to stick together.”

Rachel’s eyes teared. “Damn, I hate
this emotionalism. I want to say how much that means to me.”

“Good. Now, let’s talk about babies.”

On Jamie’s first full night on the job, Pat realized she was a workhorse. He watched as she scurried from table to table, taking orders, delivering food and scooping up dirty dishes.
She moved like she was on roller skates, her ponytail, hanging down the back of her green pub shirt, bobbing with the motion. At ten, when they closed, she sank wearily onto a stool and yanked off the apron she’d put on.

“Good job, there, girl, but you look worn out.”

“I’ll bounce back. I just need to get off my feet. Thank you for telling me to wear sneakers.”

“I noticed the young
men flirting with you.”

“One of them had a beard. I like beards on men.”

He rubbed his whiskered jaw with his thumb and forefinger. “Ha! We go scruffy around here, but not full beards.”

The look she gave him was all female. “You four are gorgeous and you know it. You could shave your heads and still be attractive.”

Her compliment flustered Pat. He didn’t know why, because he got
hit on as the bartender several times a week.