by Palmer Jones
“I love you,” he murmured a second before he snatched her to his chest. “You'll have the next eighty years to exact your revenge on me.”
Epilogue
Rian O'Keeley plated the sea bass and set the small garnish on the side. He picked up two plates and walked out of the kitchen at his childhood home and into the garden. Being back in Ireland at his old home, made the world feel a little smaller. The quietness. The smell of the damp earth. The chill in the air cooled his face after standing in front of his ma's old stove.
Brogan held Selena in his arms as he swayed gently to the sound of flutes filling the air. Cathal had decorated the garden, a thousand white lights surrounding the couple. His younger brother had always been dramatic.
“Here you go,” Rian said as he set the two plates on the table.
Selena grinned. “Thank you! I'm starving.” The ring on her finger caught Rian's eye. Brogan's proposal was epic. He'd brought Selena to Ireland and taken her on a long walk. At some point, he proposed since they returned with her wiping tears and wearing a small diamond ring that belonged to their ma.
Since neither he nor Cathal ever had any intention of getting married, they didn't object.
“I cannot believe that the three of you grew up in that small house.” Selena sat down at the wrought iron table. “You're all so big.”
Brogan patted Rian on the back as he passed by. “It was tight. I'm just happy to still have it in the family.”
Rian wiped his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder. “I am, too. It will be a nice place to relax when I travel this way.”
“I'd love to come here for our honeymoon.” Selena took a sip of her wine. “If that's alright?”
Brogan sat back in disbelief. “Really? Here? I heard you mention before that you wanted to travel the world and see all the beautiful places. I figured we'd head over to Italy or France.”
“You are marrying a woman of impeccable taste, Brog.” Rian took a step back and held his hands out wide. “This is the most beautiful place on the planet.” He turned and left the couple to their dinner.
After all the sacrifices Brogan made for the family, Rian could finally take a deep breath as the guilt released. Brogan had Selena.
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The End
Keep reading for a preview of Her Irish Chef
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He was screwed.
Rian O'Keeley pushed through the crowd at the Atlanta airport, heading toward the parking deck. A week in California did not inspire a new dish for the restaurant he shared with his brothers. Instead, he came home to a shitty review from a food critic and his version of writer's block.
He unlocked his sleek Mercedes, sat down, and slammed the door shut harder than necessary. Damn it. The interview he just gave to one of the top food magazines in the world included a bold declaration that a new fusion, something to combine his Irish upbringing with his new home in America, would be on the menu at O'Keeley's by the end of the year. And, so far, he didn't have a single, damn idea.
Years spent traveling around the world had been a waste of time to get to this point in his career and choke. And it wasn't just his name on the line.
The drive to O'Keeley's Irish Pub gave him plenty of time to cool off before seeing his family. He was the level-headed brother of the three. Or at least he'd assumed that role by default. Someone had to play the part of the peacekeeper with an overbearing brother like Brogan and a feckless younger brother, Cathal.
He pulled into the employee parking lot in downtown Atlanta, parking beside Brogan's four-door sedan. His oldest brother also held the title for being the most responsible. He ran the day-to-day operations of the pub. And it was because of Brogan's new wife, Selena, that Rian found himself back in Atlanta instead of traveling to another part of the United States looking for inspiration.
He rose from the car, the Georgia heat and humidity closing in around him. He'd never get used to it.
Selena waited at the front entrance, arms crossed, toe tapping, her golden hair pulled back. “You were supposed to call when you left the airport.”
He paused beside his sister-in-law, planted a kiss on top of her head, and then headed toward the kitchen. “Why? I already knew you'd track the flight.” He wiggled his phone in her direction. “I'm surprised you aren't tracking me by now.”
She took two steps to his one to keep up. “That's because you don't communicate. We arranged for the kids from the community center to visit today. Your idea, by the way.”
Yes, it had been his idea. That was before his future looked shot to hell by his lack of creativity.
“The kids will be here any minute, Rian.”
“I know.” He pushed open the kitchen doors and let the feeling of coming home take away his stress. He loved working in O'Keeley's. It smelled clean along with just a hint of Irish stew they'd made the night before. He'd designed the kitchen himself. The counters were a little higher than average to accommodate his height. Bright lights. Wide spaces between workstations.
It took up more area than most kitchens in a restaurant. Typically, the main floor with additional seating was a priority. Rian held a third of the ownership in the restaurant. He had a third of the decision-making power.
“Selena—” Brogan paused as he pushed open the door. “Oh. Good. You're here. The kids just arrived.”
Rian shot Selena a bright smile. “All that stress for nothing. I'm obviously on time then.”
Selena rolled her eyes. “You're killing me.”
“That's what brothers do.” He grinned and winked at her, finally getting a smile.
“You and Cathal think you can get away with anything by flirting.”
Rian leaned over, his arms resting on the cold, stainless steel counter. “And, my dear, how does your husband get away with things? Does Brogan flirt with you as well?”
Selena laughed. “I'm not sure you want the details to that.” She pushed open the door.
The sound of voices drifted in a moment before becoming muffled again as the door closed.
Nonstop chatter, to be exact. The cooking demonstration would teach the kids hopefully both the tools to make healthy food choices and the knowledge of his career. He'd had his ma as inspiration.
Rian laid out the ingredients. Selena stuck her head into the kitchen. “Are you almost ready?” She straightened and pointed to the zucchini. “You do realize these are kids?” she asked.
“Yes. Kids should eat vegetables.”
“French fries and macaroni and cheese are vegetables at this age.” She laughed when he made a face. “Not everyone grew up with a freaking garden in the backyard of their cottage in Ireland.”
Maybe not, but he'd try to expose them while he had the chance.
“I'll bring them back.” She turned to leave then stopped, her golden eyes settling on him. “Try not to be so quiet.”
“I have to talk, Selena. I'm giving a cooking demonstration.”
“Yes, I know, but you have such a great personality.” She stepped back to him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You should let that come out a little quicker.”
He crossed his arms. “I feel like you're trying to tell me that people don't like me.”
“Eh,” she murmured, waving her hand side to side. “You can come across as aloof.”
“Maybe I’m aloof when I’m not in the mood to talk.”
Selena huffed. “You’re impossible.” She left him alone. He smiled. He'd have never thought his older brother would have ever found a woman to actually marry his grumpy ass, but there she went, the newest member of the O'Keeley clan.
Just as bossy as Brogan.
And having close friends wasn’t an issue for Rian. It was rare for him to call someone a close friend, but they existed. He gave so much of himself conducting interviews or cooking around the world, that when he was home, he wanted to live quietly.
The children's chatter drew closer. He took a deep breath as they walked in through
the kitchen door.
The voices rose even higher, if possible, all talking at once – a blur of faces.
Rian blinked, trying to sort it out and questioning his sanity for doing this.
A woman brought up the rear of the group, her lips moving fast and giving out directions. She kept her face averted, quieting them down as she passed by them until she stopped in front of Rian.
Her heart-shaped face and guarded smile fascinated him – warm brown eyes with full lips. No makeup. The only thing he could think to say was, “hi,” as he held out his hand.
Her smile faltered. For some strange reason, he wanted to make her smile.
She shook his hand, her eyes locked on their joined hands. “I'm Mara Andrews.”
“Rian O'Keeley.” Her hand felt cool, her skin a beautiful contrast to his own.
Selena cleared her throat. “Rian?”
He reluctantly dropped Mara's hand. “Sorry. Kids. Right.” He scanned his audience. Most of them were under sixteen. A little girl stood in the front, her eyes wide.
“Hi, there,” he said.
She tilted her head back. “You're tall.”
He chuckled. “You're short.”
She grinned, missing two teeth. “My name is Blair.”
He spoke in French. “You have a very pretty dress, Blair.”
Her eyes sparkled. “What did you say?”
“He said you have a very pretty dress.” Mara's smile appeared a little more genuine.
“You speak French?” That surprised and pleased him.
“Yes. I lived there for a year when I was in college.”
If her face hadn't captivated him, that small fact did. He spent most of his time in Europe and mostly in France. He opened his mouth to ask her where.
Selena's sharp elbow caught him in his ribs. “You're acting no better than Cathal,” she mumbled.
That comparison grabbed his attention. His younger brother's hobby would be classified as picking up women. And he was damned good at it, too. But Rian had an audience of kids watching his every move. Convincing their chaperon to go on a date would have to wait.
But if she were available, it would happen.
“Let's get started,” Rian said. “We've set out a workstation for each of you. We'll start with peeling zucchini and cracking eggs.” Selena and Mara organized the kids, placing one at each station.
He watched Mara, openly, so he noticed each time she glanced in his direction.
Mara settled in beside Blair, laughing each time the little girl cracked an egg. Mara seemed happy. He liked that. He'd dated women from all walks of life, all ethnicities, all races. Happiness was the number one trait that he liked when thinking of going out on a date.
He'd had enough sadness and frustration in the past.
Selena moved through the older kids peeling zucchini. She was a natural with children. Not that it surprised him, but it reassured him that at least his brother's wife might have an idea what she was doing should they start a family soon. In his opinion, Brogan was a lost cause. The man would probably buy a suit for his son or daughter before they turned one.
“Mr. O'Keeley?” Mara shifted from behind the counter. She bit her lower lip. “Or Chef? I'm not sure what to call you.”
“The title of Mr. O'Keeley belongs to my older brother.” He wiped his hands on the towel hanging from his back pocket. “Rian is fine.”
“Rian,” she said, causing him to want to hear it again. Her Southern accent was soft, dragging out the first vowel in his name in a cute way.
“I like your accent.”
She laughed. “Mine? You're the one with the major accent in the room.” She pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “I was wondering if you'd consider doing this again. Maybe teaching them a dish they can make at home. Out of easy ingredients? I'd purchase the food, but I can already tell the kids, especially the boys, are completely impressed by you. That doesn't happen often. We have a small kitchen in the after-school center you could use.”
Her eyes held his, and he knew he should give her an answer. But it wasn't one he wished he could give her. “My schedule is fairly busy.”
Her gaze dropped. “Oh. I knew it might be. It was just a suggestion.”
“Wait.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “When were you thinking?”
“Anytime.” She chewed on her bottom lip again.
He cleared his throat. “I'm free on Friday.”
Selena slapped a hand down on the countertop, causing an egg to roll to the edge. She caught it and shook it at him. “Seriously, Rian. Cathal is definitely rubbing off on you, picking up women whenever you get the chance.”
Rian set his phone down, giving Selena a sharp look. “I was scheduling when I could come and give them a demonstration at their after-school center, dear sister.”
Selena blushed and gave Mara an apologetic look. “Sorry. I'm just trying to help keep him on track. O'Keeley men are easily distracted by pretty women.”
Rian shook his head. “I won't deny that statement. I'm more concerned about your mental health, seeing that you picked the surliest one of the three of us.”
“Brogan can be very charming when he's not working.”
“Which is never.” Rian's phone chimed, and he wagged it toward Selena. “If you want to help me, then go tell my brother to lay off texting me about next month's specials. He's gotten pushier since he married you. If that was possible. That's the fifth text since yesterday.”
She tilted her nose in the air. “I sent the first three from his phone. You stopped answering mine.” She turned on her heel and walked over to check on the kids.
He shifted back to Mara, who gave him a small, sympathetic smile. “I'd say sorry, but I'm afraid everyone has to deal with family. Mine's pretty crazy.”
“Selena is the best thing that could have happened to my brother Brogan. But when she gets something in her head, there's no slowing her down.” He fired off a text to Selena.
She shot her head up, eyes narrowing.
He threw his head back and laughed.
“What?” Mara looked between the two of them, seeming to enjoy the byplay.
“She wanted next month's specials for the menu.” He held out his phone for Mara to read. She angled her head closer, a smell of fresh peaches drifted toward him. She smelled like dessert.
She smiled a real, gorgeous smile that lit up her brown eyes. “I don't believe for one second you're going to serve peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
“I was inspired by the youth of America.”
She shook her head. “I could actually afford to come here if you served something like that.”
Her comment pushed him back a step. He wanted her to come, enjoy the restaurant. Sit with him. Talk to him. Give him the privilege of watching her eyes dance when she laughed.
“Friday night. After I cook with the kids, you and I will come here for dinner.”
Her smile vanished. “Just us?”
“Why not? If you want to eat here, that is. You just mentioned it, so I thought you might like to come with me.”
“I'd think you'd be sick of eating your food.”
“Coming to O'Keeley's is the closest I usually get to eating my food.” He dropped his voice to a whisper, moving closer. A horrible excuse, but he was no better than Cathal as Selena had pointed out to him. “I don't often cook alone.”
She dropped her voice, her eyes narrowing. “I'm guessing you're not alone...often.”
That was an odd statement. “What does that mean?”
She lifted a shoulder and glanced away. “I saw the pictures of you on the yacht. I assume you are with people. All of the time.”
That couldn't be farther from the truth. He loved being alone. Living alone. Waking up alone. For some men, like Cathal, they hated it. His youngest brother dated woman after woman, treating them over-the-top to make up for his past. Using them as a distraction for a few weeks, or a few hours, and then parting with them. Strange
ly, he treated them so wonderfully that none of his past dates ever held ill feelings toward him.
Rian's past had the opposite effect. He enjoyed dating, but for him, it was temporary, and second dates were rare. He had no desire ever to have a long-term relationship, so he never formed any real attachment. And usually he left before the sun rose.
There were too many mad memories lurking in the corners of his mind. A commitment meant a woman wanted every detail of your past.
He wanted those details to remain locked away.
“I can assure you, I'm alone far more often than the internet gives me credit. The woman in those pictures, the one with the blond hair—”
“And legs for days. Yes. I saw.” She drummed her fingers on the counter. “What about her?”
“The owner of the boat's wife. If you had the full picture, you'd see that he was sitting on the other side of her. He's an old friend.” He tapped her cell phone. “Don't believe everything you read, Mara.”
She searched his face. “Obviously, I shouldn't.”
“Friday. I'll drive you from the center here after I work with the kids. You can pick what you call it.”
She smirked. “I assumed it's just a dinner. Why? What were you going to call it?”
“What I plan on it being.” He moved around the counter, pausing beside her. His arm pressed against her shoulder.
Her eyes widened, but she didn't move or pull away. She wasn't very tall, maybe five-eight. Nothing compared to his six-two height, but her curves, now that he had a clear view of her, confirmed that his physical attraction to her was magnetic.
“It's a date.”
* * *
Her Irish Chef releasing October 2019
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Also by Palmer Jones
