“No, Keara. I’m not going to the doctor about something so silly.”
Keara regarded her great-aunt, her mouth set, chin tipped up, and sighed.
Shane showed up every night now. “I’m fine now,” she told him, folding her arms across her chest, shaking her head. “You don’t need to keep checking on me.”
He moved closer to her and bent his head to nuzzle the side of her neck. She smelled so damn good. “But I wanted to see you.”
“But Maeve’s here.” She laid her hand on his chest. Their eyes met and warmth slid over her.
“Isn’t this Tuesday?”
“No!” She laughed. “You know it’s not Tuesday.” Then she frowned. “Which reminds me. I talked to Maeve. About her memory.” She glanced down the hall, telling him Maeve was nearby.
“Why don’t we go out for a drink?”
“Good idea.”
“Maeve! Shane and I are going out for a drink.”
Maeve emerged from her bedroom holding a book. “Excellent idea. Have fun.”
Shane grinned and grabbed Keara’s hand. “My purse!” she said. “And maybe a jacket.”
He waited while she disappeared to her own room, remembering the last time he’d been in there and the hot fun they’d had. He watched Keara return, her soft leather bag slung over one shoulder, a tiny denim jacket now over her long-sleeved black T. Baggy cargo pants should not have been so attractive, but they did hug her ass in a very sexy way.
They walked down the dark street to Brady’s Pub. They found a small round table unoccupied in a dark corner. Keara studied the room. “This is very cute,” she said. “I’ve never been here.”
“You’re kidding me. Not even the last time you were in Kilkenny?”
‘I was seventeen.”
“That never stopped me,” he said with a wicked grin and she laughed.
She nodded at the sign over the bar. “I like that.” She read it aloud. “‘When we drink, we get drunk. When we get drunk, we fall asleep. When we fall asleep, we commit no sin. When we commit no sin, we go to heaven. So let’s all get drunk, and go to heaven!’”
Shane leaned toward her. “Let’s go to heaven, a thaisce. What would you like to drink?”
She laughed. “Would I be kicked out if I ordered a glass of Chardonnay?”
“Probably not.”
The waitress approached them and Shane ordered her wine and a Guinness for himself.
“So,” he said, elbows on the table. “You talked to Maeve.”
Her mouth pouted. “Yes. And it didn’t go very well.” She related her conversation to him.
“Damn.” He studied his hands clasped in front of him. “What do you know about Alzheimer’s?”
She looked pained and gave a snort. “All I know about is that Gary’s wife had it and she had to be put in a home.”
He nodded, sorry that this had come up and reminded her. He reached out and covered one of her hands with his, gave it a squeeze. “I don’t know much either. Maybe we should do some research. I don’t think there’s a cure for it, but…maybe there’s something they can do if they catch it early enough.”
“I’ll go on Maeve’s computer and Google it tomorrow.”
“Good idea.” His fingers stroked over her soft hand. Then the waitress arrived with their drinks. He released her and leaned back in his chair.
“My parents are having another party this weekend,” he said. “Wanna come?”
She blinked at him. “Did they invite me? Me and Maeve?”
“I’m sure they would.”
“Shane! You can’t invite people to your parents’ house without them knowing.”
He cast her a sexy smile. “They won’t mind.”
“I think Maeve has a date with Glen.”
“Ah. Well, you can still come.”
She tipped her head to the side and sipped her wine. “Why?”
He shrugged and looked at his beer. “Why not?”
He realized that a party at his parents place wasn’t exactly an invitation to have sex. Which is what they’d been doing. And she’d made it clear that’s all it was. Healthy, hormone-inducing, stress-relieving sex.
He wanted more than that.
The thought sliced through him so sharply he almost gasped. What the hell was he thinking?
“Never mind,” he muttered. “Bad idea.”
Now she reached for his hand and wrapped slender fingers around his. “I’ll come,” she said softly. “I like your parents.”
He looked up at her, then away, and gave a jerky nod. “Okay. Good.”
Even more people filled the Dunstan home than the last time she’d been there, and Keara let Shane introduce her to so many, she’d never keep track of all the names and faces. She smiled and made small talk as they worked their way through the house to the bar set up in the kitchen and Shane handed her a glass of wine.
“Thank you.” She smiled up at him, and then his mom spotted them and rushed over.
Hugs and greetings were exchanged. “So nice to see you again, Keara! I’m glad you could come.”
“I hope I’m not imposing.”
Fiona laughed and waved a hand. “Don’t be silly! Look at this place! There’s always room for one more. Come and have some food.”
She led them over to the buffet loaded with mouthwatering dishes. Keara began filling a plate, watching in amusement as Shane loaded his to the point of overflowing.
“Hungry?” she asked.
He glanced at her as he balanced more potatoes on his potatoes. “Yeah.”
She shook her head. He was a big muscular guy, he must burn a gazillion calories. Lucky him.
They found a place to sit and eat, and Declan joined them for a few moments, too, greeting Keara warmly.
“Thank you for having me,” she said.
“Any friend of Shane’s is always welcome here,” Declan said, and gave Shane a knowing look that had her feeling warm and shifting in her seat. What were they thinking? She’d been afraid of this. They couldn’t exactly tell Shane’s parents they were just having sex.
She choked on her wine and Shane patted her back. “You okay?
She nodded. Her eyes fell on an unusual stone on a shelf nearby. “That’s pretty,” she said. “Is that a shamrock carved on it?”
“Yes.” Declan reached out and picked it up. “Funny you should notice this. Maeve gave it to us.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It’s Connemara Marble. Hand-carved stone. It’s a traditional gift between families who vow friendship through generations.”
“Oh.” Something inside her chest softened. “That is so nice.”
Declan smiled. “She’s a good friend.” And then he lifted a brow and looked from Shane to Keara. “And speaking of generations—you two are our next generations, so it’s fitting that you be friends, too.”
She glanced at Shane. Hell, she’d tried to change the subject and ended right back where they started.
Shane met her eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “Friends.”
She felt her gaze snared by his, and heat rose inside her. She liked this man. She really liked him. He annoyed her with his overprotectiveness and bossiness, but damn…she did want to be friends with him. She supposed they were friends. Friends who were sleeping together.
She took another big gulp of her wine. Declan was pulled aside by other friends and was soon involved in telling a long joke about an Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman. Keara and Shane sat there and listened, and when Shane reached for hand and wrapped his warm fingers around it while they laughed, she didn’t even mind.
After a while, Shane leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Wanna go to my place?”
She looked at him and pursed her lips against a smile. Her tummy tightened and warmth spread through her body.
“Sure,” she replied, and she gave him a mischievous look. “I have some things for us to try.”