by Zara Keane
“I’m getting used to these four walls, Sergeant. The mustard color lends them a certain ambience. Maybe I’ll put them in my next mystery novel.”
A hint of a smile cracked through Mackey’s stern expression. “You do that.”
After the door shut behind the policemen, Jonas glanced at his watch. Just past ten o’clock. He drummed the wooden table in a restless rhythm.
A crack of thunder drew his attention to the tiny pane of glass that served for a window. Lightning zigzagged across the night sky and the wind roared. Luca hated storms. He hid under his bed until Jonas coaxed him out with the promise of hot cocoa and a story. The poor little guy would be extra sensitive tonight due to his earache. Gavin didn’t know the cocoa trick.
A sour taste invaded Jonas’s mouth. If it weren’t for Aidan Gant, he’d be where he belonged—home with his son.
***
Seán Mackey’s light blue eyes creased in concern. “Are you sure you don’t want to press charges?”
Olivia dropped her gaze to her clenched fists and shook her head. “You know what Aidan’s like. He’ll lie his way out of this, just like he’s done before. I only threatened him in the hope he’d drop the charges against Jonas. All he was doing was defending me.”
Requiring rescuing was galling. Being rescued by Jonas O’Mahony was a new low in the humiliation stakes. Shame burned a path from her scalp to her toes. If she were taller and stronger, she could have defended herself.
“All right, Olivia,” Seán said with a sigh. “We can’t force you to press charges. Will you at least let us file a report?”
“All right. I don’t want this to go to court.”
“If he ever causes you grief again, give us a call, yeah?” Brian Glenn said. He was sitting beside Seán, pen and notebook in hand. So far, Olivia hadn’t given him much info to write down.
“I will.”
Seán’s expression was speculative. “I take it this wasn’t a one-off?”
She gave a noncommittal shrug. Seán and Brian were good guys, but they were still Guards—members of An Garda Síochána, Ireland’s famously unarmed police force. She didn’t trust cops, especially not the locals—the police commissioner was chummy with Aidan. “A cherub or two may have taken flight during past rows.” A fist or two as well, but she preferred to focus on her excellent missile-launching skills. She’d always had good aim. Pity she wasn’t handier with her punches.
“You shouldn’t have to put up with this.” There was an edge to Seán’s voice. “No woman should.”
Brian gestured to the arm she was cradling. “Can I get you more ice?”
“I’m good, thanks.” A little white lie. The pain was worse than she’d anticipated. With a bit of luck, Aidan was writhing in agony. “Can I leave now, or do you two have more questions?”
Seán’s brow furrowed. “We’ve no more questions at present, but where will you go? Surely you’re not planning on heading home.”
“No way.” Her reply was emphatic. “I’m staying with my friend Fiona tonight. We were going to collect my stuff from Aidan’s house when you called me.”
Relief flooded the police sergeant’s face. “That’s for the best. Give us a minute to complete the paperwork, and you can leave.”
“What about Jonas? Will you let him go?”
He gave her a measured look. “Your story tallies with his. I see no reason to keep him here.”
The pressure weighing down her shoulders eased. She’d done her utmost to avoid involving anyone else in her marital difficulties. She could handle Aidan—most of the time—but he wasn’t an enemy to underestimate. Jonas was now on his hit list.
A few minutes later, Olivia exited the interrogation room. She’d been in there less than an hour, but it had felt like more. A piping-hot shower to wash the day away was in order.
Fiona was waiting in the lobby, leafing through a glossy magazine. She recoiled at the sight of Olivia holding her arm at an awkward angle. “Oh, Liv. What did that bastard do to you? I knew you were in pain over dinner.”
“It’s nothing,” Olivia assured her. “Believe me, Aidan looks much worse.”
Fiona eyed her ice pack askance. “We should go to the hospital.”
“Not necessary. Nothing’s broken. If I keep it cool, the swelling shouldn’t be too bad.” No need to worry Fiona by mentioning the pain in her ribs.
Her friend tossed the magazine back on the pile. “You can’t let Aidan get away with this. Café or no, you need out of that marriage. A few nights staying at our house isn’t going to solve the problem. Why don’t you move in with us until you find a place of your own?”
Olivia blinked back tears of gratitude. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to drag you into this mess any more than I already have. Besides, you and Gavin need your space.”
Fiona rolled her eyes. “Stop being stubborn. If you’re not keen on sharing with a couple, my aunt Bridie has a spare bedroom. She loathes Aidan, and she’s always been fond of you.”
“I still need to get my stuff from Aidan’s house.” God, facing him was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Not alone. And not tonight. You’ve been through enough for one day. Gavin and I will go with you tomorrow.” Fiona cast a scathing look down the hallway. “He’s here, you know.”
“Seán told me.” And even if the policeman hadn’t tipped her off, Aidan’s strident tones reverberated off the walls, alerting the entire building to his presence—and his displeasure.
Her friend’s nostrils flared. “He’s gone too far this time.”
Olivia debated telling her about the other times Aidan had “gone too far” but rejected the idea. Fiona had a temper if riled. No point in giving her a reason to lose it when Aidan was in such close proximity. If she was going to be staying with Fiona, or next door in Bridie’s cottage, there’d be plenty of time to tell her the unvarnished truth in a setting less likely to get the pair of them arrested.
“Come on.” She slipped her good arm through her friend’s. “Let’s get going while Seán keeps Aidan occupied.”
They’d almost reached the main door when Jonas entered the lobby.
Olivia froze and her stomach went into freefall. Here was another man she’d rather not face this evening. But the encounter was inevitable, so best get it over with. She touched Fiona’s arm. “Give me a moment, will you?”
Her friend cast a wary glance down the hallway in the direction of Aidan’s bellows. “Make it quick, Liv. I want to be out of here before Seán’s finished with your toad of a husband. Otherwise, Aidan will have broken bollocks to match his nose.”
A slow warmth suffused Olivia’s body. She should have confided in Fiona months ago. “I’ll meet you at the car in a couple of minutes.”
Jonas stood silent and resolute at her approach, his dark orbs never leaving her face. She took a deep breath. “Thank you for defending me. I’m sorry for the consequences.”
“No problem. Anyone would have done it.”
His gruff voice sent tingles down her spine. “You have more faith in humanity than I do. How’s your little boy feeling?”
“Not great. I ended up taking him the doctor.” He grimaced. “Ear infection.”
“Poor kid. I hope his meds kick in soon.”
Further down the corridor, a door slammed. Olivia whipped round in time to see Aidan stomp out of one of the interrogation rooms. His nose and left eye were red and swollen. The punch had been effective. On instinct, she took a step closer to Jonas.
Once he spotted them, Aidan’s face turned puce. “You’ll regret this, O’Mahony.” His growl was low enough for his words to be inaudible to everyone but them. “And as for my wife…” He let the threat trail off in an ominous ellipsis.
Jonas’s icy calm didn’t break. “Watch your fists, Gant, especially around women. It wouldn’t do for a man in your position to be charged with attacking a female.”
“She’s my wife.” Spittle flew when he spoke.
“All the
more reason for you to treat her with respect. If you want a sparring partner, take up boxing.”
“All right, lads.” Sergeant Seán Mackey entered the lobby at a run. “That’s enough. Mr. Gant was leaving, I believe. I’ll escort him to his car.”
Aidan drew back his lips in a snarl but refrained from comment. Bestowing them with a parting glare, he let the station door slam in the police sergeant’s face.
Seán shoved the door open and hovered on the top step. “Have a care, O’Mahony. Don’t get too free with your punches again. Frankly, I prefer you interviewing me than the opposite way around. And if Aidan gives you any trouble, Olivia, give us a call.”
“I will.”
Seán rushed down the steps after Aidan.
Jonas escorted her in silence to Fiona’s waiting car. They stopped beside the passenger door. “My offer still stands for the lease.”
She felt a rush of relief mixed with dread. She’d been afraid he’d rescind the offer once he’d had time to think it over. She’d been equally afraid he’d follow through. “Then I accept.”
He inclined his neck in a brusque nod. “Come by the cottage on Monday afternoon and we’ll discuss the details. Say three o’clock?”
“Three o’clock it is.”
He strode through the car park, his long legs covering more ground in one step than she did in three. Jonas O’Mahony as her landlord…Was it a deal made in heaven or in hell?
Chapter Eleven
BY MONDAY, JONAS’S EYEBALLS felt as though they’d been sandpapered. With Luca sick and feverish all weekend, sleep was a commodity in short supply. He drained his coffee mug and shoved a plate of stale biscuits across the kitchen table toward his father. “Thanks for babysitting Luca. I’d rather not have to drag him next door while he’s ill.”
“No problem. Delighted to spend the bank holiday with my grandson. Shame he’s too sick to enjoy it.” The grooves on Liam’s forehead deepened. “Your mother will be spitting mad about the rental contract.”
“She’ll have to deal with it.” Jonas’s voice held a hint of steel. “Gant was hurting Olivia. What would you have had me do in that circumstance? Ignore it and walk away? Hell, you raised me better than that.”
“Aye, I know.” Liam ran a hand through his dark hair, still as thick as it had been in his youth but now graying at the temples. “Unfortunately, Aidan Gant is connected.”
“I don’t give a toss about his connections. I doubt his sphere of influence extends to the publishing industry.”
“Maybe not, but you never know what the future holds. Someday, you might need to get a prop—” Liam caught himself in time “—different job.”
A proper job…right. Regardless of Jonas’s level of success, his father would never regard writing as a suitable job for a man.
“I’m sorry, son,” Liam said, red-faced. “I know you work hard at what you do. It’s just…”
“Not what you’d expected one of your sons to do for a living?”
“No, but you’re managing to support yourself and Luca.”
Barely. He extracted the key to the neighboring cottage from his jeans pocket and pushed back his chair. “Olivia’s due next door in a minute. Luca’s medicine is in the fridge. He’ll need the next dose in an hour.”
“What time is the buyer due round to collect the motorcycle?” His father jerked a thumb out the front window to where Jonas’s Harley stood on the front lawn.
“’Bout thirty minutes,” he said gruffly. “Any problems, let me know.”
When he stepped outside his cottage, Olivia was already waiting for him by the gate, hugging her coat in a vain effort to ward off the chill breeze. Her cheeks were paler than usual, making the smattering of freckles across her nose stand out. Shadows hung under eyes like bruises. Here was another person who hadn’t spent a restful weekend.
She nodded at the Harley. “Nice bike.”
“I’m selling it.”
“Why?”
“You want a look inside the cottage or not?” He slid the key into the lock and ushered her inside the empty cottage. “Take a seat,” he said, gesturing toward the old table in the center of the main room.
Olivia shrugged off her coat, revealing an emerald green dress. The material clung to her delicate curves, an all too vivid reminder of what lay beneath. Her long red hair was tied back with a green ribbon to match her dress. His fingers itched to untie it and watch her hair cascade down her back. He shifted position in his chair and cleared his throat. “I guess you haven’t found anywhere else for the café?”
She arched a slim eyebrow. “Since Saturday? Hardly. Which is why I’m grateful you’ve agreed to give me the lease.”
He grunted and stifled a yawn. “Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep.”
“I can imagine. How’s Luca?”
“A little better, thanks. The antibiotics are beginning to work.”
Olivia opened her handbag and extracted a colored box. “An Easter egg. For when he’s feeling better.”
Jonas blinked in surprise. “Thank you. He’ll be thrilled.”
“How’s this going to work?” she asked with characteristic frankness. “Can you bear the idea of me living next door?”
“Living? I thought you intended to turn the cottage into a café.”
“I do. However, I’ll need somewhere to live, and I won’t have an abundance of cash starting out. Mary was okay with me using the loft.”
“Won’t it be cramped?”
She shrugged, an almost imperceptible twitch of one elegant shoulder. “I can cope with cramped for a few months.”
“In that case, I have no objection.” Actually, he had several, but none were rational enough to voice. Instead he opened the spiral notebook before him and glanced at his notes. “If you’re good with the financial agreement you had with Mary, let’s stick with that.”
Olivia’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “As you know, Mary and I never got far enough in our plans to have a written contract.”
They looked at one another and, for a moment, time stood still. “I’ll have my solicitor draw one up.”
“Your solicitor?” She tugged on the beads of her necklace. “Not Aidan, I presume.”
“God, no,” he exclaimed, aghast. “I wouldn’t willingly put business that man’s way. I know someone in Dublin who’s dealt with a few things for me. She’ll take care of the contract.”
Olivia nodded, her long fingers toying with the beaded necklace around her slender throat. “Won’t the noise of the café bother your writing?”
“Unlikely. My father renovated this building for Mary a few years ago, back when the gift shop was in here. In order to get planning permission to run a business in a residential area, he had to ensure it was soundproofed. When Mary switched it back to a residential rental property, the soundproofing remained intact.”
“Speaking of Liam, you said in your e-mail yesterday that you’d like him to get the contract to install the café?”
“Yes. He’ll give you a fair deal, so no worries on that score.”
“Won’t he have a problem working for me?” she asked. “He and your mother aren’t exactly my greatest fans.”
“Work is money, and times are lean for the building trade. My dad won’t let his personal opinion of you get in the way of doing a good job.”
Olivia flinched, making him regret his choice of words. He hadn’t been entirely honest, either. His mother would be furious over his rash promise to Olivia, but his father would work his calming magic over the telephone lines. At the end of the day, Mam was a financial realist. She and Dad needed the money, and work was work.
Olivia bit her lip, drawing his attention to their rosy hue and her straight pearly white teeth.
“No regrets?” he asked. Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d be the one to bail on their deal.
“No. This café is my ticket to freedom. I’d be a fool not to accept your offer.”
“But…?” he prompted.
/> “But I’m aware you don’t like me much. I’m wondering how this will pan out.”
“I rather thought the not-liking part was mutual,” Jonas countered.
“Touché,” she said with a small smile.
“If I felt awkward, I wouldn’t have offered you the premises,” he lied.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Okay,” he admitted. “It feels odd, but we’ll get used to it. I need a tenant for this place, and you need space for your café. It’s just business. We’ll barely see one another.”
Her tense shoulders relaxed perceptibly. “Thanks, Jonas. This means a lot to me.” She leaned forward and squeezed his hand. Then, eyes widening, she whipped it away. They locked gazes for a beat.
“There is one other thing,” he said. “A sort of caveat, if you like.” Hit her with it now and see if she runs.
“Oh?”
“How do you feel about small children?”
She frowned. “That depends on the child.”
“The thing is…,” he began. Aw, hell. Best spit it out. “I’m looking for a babysitter for Luca. I need someone to collect him from his school in Cork twice a week and mind him for a couple of hours until I’m done writing for the evening.”
Her forehead creased in perplexity. She folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with a bemused half smile. It was a gesture of “You must be desperate if you’re asking me.”
“Let’s just say that offers have not been flooding in.”
She considered for a moment before replying. “You’d entrust your son’s welfare to me?”
“You’re hardly a criminal, Olivia. And from what I hear, you pretty much raised your brothers. I’m assuming you know how to handle a little kid.”
She inclined her head. “I still need to work my notice at Aidan’s practice. I won’t be free until May and then only until the café opens.”
“That’s fine. I can manage until May.” It wasn’t as if he had a choice.
“And afterward?”
“My mother will be back from her cruise by the start of June. I’m hoping to have found a regular babysitter beforehand.”
“I’m aware Luca has special needs. Is there anything I need to watch out for?”
