Love and Shenanigans (Ballybeg, Book 1) (The Ballybeg Series) (30 page)

“You’re a good man, Gavin. If that baby is yours, I’m sure you’ll make a great dad.” She stood, scraping her chair over the terracotta-tiled floor. “I’d better get back to Bridie’s. Will you be okay on your own?”

No,
he thought,
please stay.
“Sure. Get back to your guests. Any problem with Philip, let me know.”

Fiona bent to scratch Wiggly Poo’s sleeping head. “You’re a good doggie for biting Bernard. I’ll be sure to get you a nice, juicy bone next time I’m at the butcher’s.”

“Two o’clock suit you for tomorrow?”

Her head jerked up in surprise. “Surely you don’t still want to help out with painting the Book Mark? Kyle and Ronan can help me pack up the books. They’re due to help paint anyway. You should concentrate on tracking down Muireann.”

“I can do both. I made a promise to Bridie, and I intend to keep it.” He fumbled in his trouser pockets for his phone. “I’m going to try calling Muireann now.”

“All right,” Fiona said. “But if you need to meet her tomorrow afternoon, no worries.”

“Thanks, Fiona.” He took her hands in his and planted a kiss on her springy curls. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“Hmm…,” Bridie said, standing in the doorway of Fiona’s small room. “You’re very dolled up for an afternoon hauling boxes.”

Fiona jumped at her aunt’s voice. She’d been staring critically at her reflection in the mirror, searching for flaws. “I’m only trying on a few outfits. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

She pulled off the shirt she’d been trying on and threw it on the bed. This was stupid. She was stupid. She and Gavin might be destined to remain man and wife for the next four years, but he’d never truly been hers, nor would he ever be. Even if Muireann’s unborn baby wasn’t his, he’d never told her he loved her. The only one of them foolish enough to lose their heart was she.

“Ah, love.” Her aunt stepped into the room and closed the door. “Don’t cry.”

She rubbed her eyes and blinked. “I’m not crying. My contacts are acting up.”

“And I suppose your sinuses are also acting up? Come on,” Bridie said coaxingly. “Sit down on the bed beside me.”

Her face crumpled, and the tears began to flow. She sank down onto the saggy mattress beside her aunt, wracked with sobs.

Bridie put her arm around her shoulders. “There, pet. A good cry will do you the power of good.”

She leaned into her aunt’s sturdy form and surrendered to her emotions. Bridie let her get it out of her system, then handed her a fresh tissue to blow her nose.

“I shouldn’t be this upset,” she said between honks. “It’s my own stupid fault for letting myself fall for him again. I should have learned my lesson the last time.”

Bridie squeezed her hand. “Take it from one who knows—chances at true love are few and far between in this life. Don’t give up on Gavin yet.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “Did you not hear what Bernard said? Muireann’s pregnant. If she’s a few months pregnant, the baby might very well be Gavin’s.”

“Let’s break this down into what we do know, rather than what we don’t. According to Bernard, Muireann announced she was pregnant over Christmas dinner. They had an argument, and she stormed out. Bernard, being the eejit that he is, automatically assumed Gavin had to be the father and hared off to confront him.”

“Muireann’s been back in Ballybeg for weeks,” Fiona mused. “We know she saw Gavin at the Christmas Bazaar, and I’m sure she’s had plenty of opportunities since then to hunt him down and tell him she was pregnant. Why didn’t she?”

“Exactly.” Bridie drew the word out for maximum emphasis. “Muireann’s not the type to suffer in silence. If she thought there was any possibility of Gavin being the father of that child, she’d have gone straight to Aidan Gant and started financial negotiations for the baby’s upkeep.”

Her aunt had a point. She recalled her cousin’s gaunt appearance and concave stomach that morning outside the Book Mark, not to mention her peaky appearance at the Christmas Bazaar. Didn’t some women end up losing weight during pregnancy due to extreme morning sickness? “There’s no point speculating,” she said aloud. “Until Muireann reappears, we won’t know when her baby is due. I agree, though, that it’s totally out of character for her not to tell Gavin if she thought he was the father.”

“Fiona, apart from this business with Gavin, how are you coping being back in Ballybeg? I realize it’s hard for you being here. I’d hoped you might find it cathartic, but perhaps I was way off the mark.”

She hesitated for a moment before replying, gathering her thoughts. “To be honest, it’s been better than I expected—drama notwithstanding. It’s certainly not how I’d planned to spend my sabbatical, but I’m enjoying spending time with you and rekindling my friendship with Olivia. We’ve kept in touch over the years, but we don’t see one another that often. When I get back to Dublin, I intend to change that.”

“Having you in Ballybeg is good for Olivia.” Bridie’s brow furrowed. “I worry about the girl. Before you came back, I never saw her out and about socializing with people her own age.”

“She’s cagey about her relationship with Gant. I don’t get the impression she’s happy in her marriage but she doesn’t go into details. All I can do is be there for her and hope she’ll confide in me if she needs to.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

“Listen, Bridie, would it be okay if I went away for a couple of days after we finish painting? We’ll need to wait a couple of days before opening the shop to give the paint fumes time to dissipate. I could ask The Major and Mrs. Cotter if they’d look in on you.”

“Of course, love.” Her aunt squeezed her hand. “I’m in far better shape than I was when I first got out of the nursing home. I might see if Nora Fitzgerald would be willing to stay over. She’s always looking for an excuse to escape that useless lout she married.”

“You’re sure? If so, that would be fantastic.”

“Are you off anywhere nice?”

Telling Bridie the whole story about tracking down Ann Dunne was tempting, but she’d rather not say anything until she knew she’d found the right person. “Just a couple of days in Clare. I know some people there.”

“Clare’s a lovely part of the country,” her aunt said. “You’ll have fun.”

Fiona stood and rooted through her wardrobe until she located an old black sweatshirt bearing the faded logo of a rock band she’d once liked. She slipped it on and began gathering her stuff for the day.

“Are you sure you want to do this today?” Bridie asked. “Gavin would understand if you canceled.”

No, she definitely did not want to see him today. She wanted to curl up under her duvet and hide from the world. She took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine.”

Bridie gave her a hug. “You’re a good girl. It’ll all work out for the best. You’ll see. If he looked at me the way he does you, I’d be sorely tempted to turn into one of those jaguars.”

For a moment, Fiona was flummoxed. Then enlightenment dawned. “I think you mean a cougar, Bridie,” she said with a smile.

“Yeah, that’s the term. One of them big cats. Sort of like that Samantha in
Sex and the City
. Always running after hot young men, she was. Nabbed them, too.”

Fiona was temporarily bereft of speech. “You’ve seen
Sex and the City
?”

Her aunt raised an eyebrow. “Hasn’t everyone? Nora Fitzgerald has the DVDs. We used to watch them after bingo on Friday nights.” She looked wistful. “Pity they don’t make them anymore.”

Fiona placed a light kiss on her aunt’s plump cheek. Bridie smelled of face powder and Estee Lauder’s Youth-Dew. “Do you have everything you need before I leave?”

“Sure, go on, girl. If I need anything, I can give Nora Fitzgerald a bell. The number of times I’ve looked after her blasted cat, I’d say she owes me one.”

“In that case, I’ll be off. See you later.” Fiona stepped outside into the roaring wind.

GAVIN WAS WAITING for her on the doorstep of the bookshop. God, he was gorgeous, even with dark bags under his eyes and stubble on his jaw. He leaped to his feet when he saw her. “Hey, Fiona.”

His smile was tinged with regret. She itched to kiss it away.

“Gavin.” They stared at one another for a beat before she opened the door to the Book Mark. “Do you fancy a cuppa before we get started?” She slung her bag on the counter. “It’ll be our last opportunity to use the kitchen until the painting is finished.” Not to mention their last opportunity to be alone together. Tomorrow, Kyle and Ronan would be underfoot.

Gavin hesitated for a fraction of a second, then relented. “Okay. Why not?”

She put on the coffee machine and prepared Gavin’s usual extra strong espresso. For herself, she opted for a cappuccino. “I’m afraid we have no fresh-baked goods today. I do, however, have some leftovers from Christmas.” She extracted an airtight container from her carrier bag. “Do you fancy a mince pie?”

“Uh, sure.” He’d chosen his favorite seat and was drumming his fingers on the table. She’d noticed he did that when he was nervous. She fiddled with her lip ring and added milk and sugar to the tray.

After placing the tray on the table, she slid into the seat across from him. “How are the O’Mahony’s? You went there for your Stephen’s Day lunch, right?”

“Yeah. Turkey casserole.” He reached for his coffee cup. “Liam and Nuala are fine, but Jonas isn’t doing too well. Luca’s mother left them just before Christmas and didn’t leave a forwarding address.”

“Crap. Poor little Luca. How’s Jonas coping?”

Gavin grimaced. “Single fatherhood doesn’t suit him. Luca’s autism diagnosis suits him even less. There’s talk of him moving back to Ballybeg with Luca.”

“Where would they live?”

“With Liam and Nuala initially.”

“Wow.” Fiona shook her curls. “Their predicament certainly puts our crazy Christmas into perspective.”

“I’ll say.”

He stared at her. She stared at him. He cleared his throat. She cleared hers.

“This is ridiculous, Gavin. To use the words people dread to hear, we need to talk about us.”

His gaze latched on to hers. “I know.”

Clasping her hands, she turned the silver rings on her fingers round and round. “We shouldn’t have let… whatever it was between us… develop. It was a mistake.”

A muscle tensed in his cheek. “I don’t agree.”

“You don’t?” Her hands froze mid-twirl, and she blinked in confusion. “Why not?”

He flexed his jaw and leaned back in his chair. “The time we spent together opened my eyes, Fiona. You made me realize that my outlook on life was skewed. I was so intent on not repeating the mistakes my mother made that I mistook a passionless relationship for one that was stable and secure.”

She heard her own intake of breath. “You never loved Muireann?”

He shook his head. “No, I did love her. Part of me still does. I even thought I was
in
love with her, and maybe I was for a time. All I know is that the emotion I felt for her was tepid in comparison to what I feel for you.”

Her heart pounded against her ribs. How did she react to that statement? Ask him if he was
in
love with
her
? She took a deep breath and focused on the vital question. “Will you go back to her if she is pregnant with your child?”

“If she’ll take me, yes.” His gaze dropped to his coffee cup. “I can’t be like my father, Fiona. I won’t abandon my child, and I don’t want to be a part-time dad. That’s the dilemma Jonas is facing at the moment, and I’m pretty sure that’s why he and Susanne haven’t made a clean break.”

“Will you tell her about us?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

“Living in a town this small, I’m sure she’s heard rumors already. But yeah, I’ll be honest with her. I’m not going to lie and say nothing happened between us.”

The silence stretched, taut with tension and unspoken words.

She reached for her coffee spoon, turned it over in her hands, and then replaced it on her saucer. “I take it you haven’t spoken to Muireann yet?”

He pushed an uneaten mince pie around his plate. “I’ve tried. Her phone is switched off.”

“Does anyone know where she is?”

“I called everyone I could think of. I finally got Brona to say Muireann was in Clare.”

“Clare?” she asked in surprise. “What’s she doing there?”

“Thinking, apparently.” Like the sweet treat, his espresso lay untouched before him. “Brona said she’d gone to a little bed and breakfast in Doolin for a couple of days.”

“Muireann needs to pick better friends,” Fiona said. “I can’t imagine any of my friends betraying a confidence.”

“Yeah, well. You know Brona. She’s as discreet as a flashing neon sign.” Gavin shoved his plate away. “I’m planning to drive to Clare the day after tomorrow, once we’ve got this place painted. I want to talk to her in person.”

“Wait a sec,” Fiona said slowly, “I’m planning to go to Clare in a couple of days, too. If I recall correctly, Lisdoonvarna isn’t far from Doolin.”

“You are?” He frowned. “Business or pleasure?”

“Neither.” She pulled a face. “I’m looking for a woman who might have helped my uncle forge my grandmother’s last will.”

“Hmm,” Gavin said, his expression neutral.

She laughed. “You don’t sound surprised. Do you know anything about it?”