Chapter 7
Liam whistled his way down to the docks, nodding his hellos to the villagers on his way. He stopped next to a beauty of a boat, lovingly restored and named The Pirate Queen.
“Permission to board,” he called.
“Aye,” Dylan said, popping his head up and waving to him before disappearing below deck again.
Glad he’d worn his boat shoes today – he didn’t fancy taking off his shoes and socks in this rain – Liam climbed aboard the ship and swung down the ladder to the galley kitchen below. Reaching up, he swung the small door closed just as the sky unleashed a torrent of rain on the boat.
“Tea?”
“Aye, that’d be grand,” Liam said, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on a hook in the corner. The galley kitchen was small but serviceable, and Liam immediately felt at ease as the boat gently rocked under him while the rain pummeled from above.
He’d been landlocked for too long.
“How’s everything going then?” Dylan, his boss and best friend, settled across the narrow table from him, a pot of tea and two cups between them. Liam couldn’t count the number of times they’d sat just like this – discussing everything from business to their love lives – and he never once took it for granted. It was a blessed life he led, one where he made enough money for his travels, and work he enjoyed. His friendship with Dylan had been the icing on the cake, for not many were allowed into Dylan’s inner circle. He’d been burned by people trying to use him for his connections too many times in the past. Over the years the men had settled into an easy friendship built on mutual respect, trust, and affection.
“The project is on track. Mr. Murphy kept his house in fair condition, but with the addition of the pavilion and extended kitchen out back, we’re due to open by spring.”
“That’s great, but I’m asking about personal.”
“Oh, me? I’m fine. How about you? Has Gracie run you ragged with wedding planning yet?”
“Ah, deflection, I see.” Dylan’s eyes studied him over his cup.
“What’s that mean?” Liam cocked his head at Dylan in question.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I said I was fine.”
“That’s not really an answer.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s an answer.”
“It’s a fake answer.”
“How is being fine a fake answer? I’m always fine. It’s the state in which I operate.” Liam ran a hand through his hair.
“You don’t seem fine.”
“Are we going to paint each other’s nails and put face masks on?”
“Maybe. If that’s what it takes to get you to tell me what’s going on.”
“There’s nothing going on.”
“Should I get Grace’s nail varnish then? Pink might be a good color for you.”
“You’re a pushy one, you know that?”
“I learned it from you, brother,” Dylan flashed him a grin.
“I… I don’t know what’s up. I’m tetchy of late. Like an itch between my shoulder blades I can’t quite scratch. There’s no one particular thing or another bothering me. I enjoy the project we’re working on. It’s fun to work on a passion project and do something a little different for once. I love that you’re building something as meaningful as a community center, and the town is as excited about it as we are to be building it. It’s probably the most feel-good project I’ve ever managed.”
“And yet?”
“And yet.” Liam shrugged, at a loss as to why he was feeling the way he was.
“Do you need to go back to sea? We could go for a sail. I’ll tell Grace it’s an extended stag party. Head out for a week or so along the coast.”
“In this weather? That does not sound fun.”
“When have rough waters ever bugged you?”
“I must be getting old.”
“Maybe you just need to get laid.”
“Or that.” Liam shrugged. “I haven’t, ahh, sampled the goods here, so to speak.”
“You’re a smart man. Which is why I’ve hired you,” Dylan observed.
“It wouldn’t do to mess around in this town. The gossip chain is rampant. Everyone either knows or is related to one another. I don’t want any sort of bad blood on my crew. I know when to keep it in my pants.”
“Maybe you do need a trip abroad, just to change things up a bit. I’ve got a big project coming down the pipeline if you’ve an interest.”
“How long would it be for?”
“Not sure yet. If anything, I wouldn’t mind someone going to feel things out for me.”
“Where is it?”
“Spain.”
“Now that’s interesting. I could spare a few weeks from the project.”
“I’ll keep you posted.”
“You aren’t just doing this to try and make me happy, are you?”
“No, it’s a real project. The timing just works to break you out of your funk.”
“It’s not a funk.”
“I know a funk when I see one.”
“I’ve a mind to funk you right off this boat.” Liam narrowed his eyes at Dylan and was rewarded with a booming laugh. Despite himself, he grinned.
That was what mates were for.
Chapter 8
The rain didn’t let up, which meant the lunch rush would be mad. There was something contrary about the villagers such that rain made them come to the pub in droves instead of staying home in the dry and warmth. Falling into an easy rhythm with Cait, Fi was already behind the bar and building pints when the door opened on a gust of wind.
Her head whipped up as a wave of longing and awareness washed through all of her senses, and she measured the man who stepped through the door in the seconds before his eyes landed on hers. It was like a lioness scenting her dinner on the wind. And oh, was Liam Mulder still a tasty morsel, Fi decided.
He’d grown even more handsome, if that was possible, and carried himself with that same easy confidence she’d first admired about him. He’d filled out even more since she’d last seen him, going from a lean man with muscles to a muscular man who looked like he used his hands for a living. Remembering what he could do with those hands made a flush rise to Fi’s cheeks, and she dipped her head to check on the pints she was pouring to make sure she didn’t overfill the glasses. Looking back up, she pasted a wide smile on her face and waited until Liam turned to her.
“Well, and look at this – it’s a wayward pirate we’ve found wandering into our pub this stormy day,” Fi said, winking at him cheerfully as she finished building the pints. Tamping down on the nerves that fluttered in her stomach, she moved to the end of the bar and placed the pints on a tray for the serving girl, then grabbed another ticket to start the next order.
“Fi? What are you doing here?” Liam asked, squeezing his way between Mr. Murphy and his cronies to lean his elbows on the bar.
“Well, where else would she be when she’s in town? It’s her mum’s bar.” Mr. Murphy slapped his leg and laughed, and Fi blew him a kiss.