Barefoot on a Starlit Night

by Jo McNally

  I’ll explain later, but I’m ruined if you don’t play along. My career. My visa. Please...I need you.

  When she didn’t respond to his begging, Finn had started to step away, defeat dulling his eyes. But she’d stopped him. She had no idea why. She’d thought Greer had been joking when he congratulated her and told her what a “great catch” Finn O’Hearn was. She’d laughed. And then Finn had rushed up. He’d put his arm around her as he greeted Greer with a strained smile. Then he’d leaned close as if to kiss her and whispered his urgent plea.

  She should have slapped him in the face, right there in front of his boss and her customers. He’d lied about her. He’d humiliated her. She should have screamed obscenities at him and thrown him out of the pub. Out of town. That’s what she should have done. What she would have done without hesitation if it was anyone else but Finn. She’d looked into his desperate eyes...it would have felt like kicking a puppy. Besides, Nana and Father Joe were watching. She couldn’t make a scene in front of them. At the very least, she’d give Finn a chance to explain. To fix this. Whatever this was. There had to be an explanation.

  I need you...

  She lifted her chin and smiled at the older man. “You’re right—if Vickie knows, so does Nana. And if Nana knows...” She gave Finn a twisting pinch through his sweater to snap him out of his stupor. The hiss of pain he gave was enough to make her smile sincere. If he thought that hurt, just wait until she got him in private. But with her grandmother watching so closely, payback would have to wait. She fluttered her eyelashes up at him like a playful coquette. “Well, if Nana knows...darling, then there’s no sense hiding our love any longer, is there?” Finn’s eyes widened. Warming to her role—and to making him squirm—she lifted her hand and waggled it near his face. “And now I can finally wear that big, beautiful ring you promised, sweetheart.”

  He finally found his voice. And the hint of a relieved smile. “’Tis true, dearest. But didn’t we agree ’twas dangerous for you to be cooking with a great rock on your finger?”

  She leaned into him. Tomorrow they could call it off. For tonight, she’d have fun letting him twist in the wind. “Oh, don’t worry, baby. I’ll be careful. I mean...you did say I deserve the best.”

  His smile deepened enough for a dimple to appear. “Oi, you’re a minx, Bridget McKinnon.” He tapped his finger under her chin. “Life will ne’er be dull engaged to you, will it?”

  For an instant, she could imagine it, like a quick video playing out before her. Laughing with Finn. Marrying Finn, surrounded by her family. Raising a family... She blinked and looked away from his damnable eyes, which had darkened as if he was seeing the same ridiculous fantasy.

  “You know, O’Hearn—” Greer cleared his throat. “—I’ll admit I had some doubts when you told me you two were engaged, but now that I see you together, there’s no doubt at all. You may as well seal the deal with a kiss.”

  Bridget recoiled. Kissing hadn’t even occurred to her—outside of her fantasies, that is.

  A cheer went up around them. She assumed it was for the end of the trivia competition, but to her horror, nearly everyone in the place was looking at her. At her and Finn. Kelly ran up and threw her arms around Bridget’s neck.

  “Oh, my God! This is amazing! A wedding! To an Irishman!” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And he’s a hot fuckin’ Irishman! I can’t wait to hear this story.”

  No, no, no, no.

  Kelly was already turning away, lifting a glass of beer in the air. Everyone in the place lifted a glass of something. Even Nana, on her feet now, was holding up a glass of sparkling water. Kelly shouted to the crowd.

  This is a nightmare...

  “Cheers to the engaged couple, Finn and Bridget! Welcome to the family, Finn!”

  Everyone hooted and hollered and shouted for them to kiss. What. Was. Happening? Finn turned her slowly to face him, muttering an apology under his breath before his lips touched hers. Her ears registered the pandemonium going on in the Purple Shamrock, but every other sense was strictly focused on her mouth, now held captive by Finn O’Hearn.

  He started by just pressing his lips against hers. It was an act, just to make everyone happy. A quick press of lips together, and then they’d pull apart and figure out how to end this engagement farce without him losing his job or her breaking Nana’s heart. Fine. Get it over with.

  Except...Finn didn’t pull away. His arm tightened around her back and drew her in. Her hands rested on his shoulders, but she didn’t push at him. In fact, her fingers curled into his shirt and held on tight. His head turned slightly, and his lips moved ever so gently. There was a gentle sound of surrender, and she realized it came from her. Her mouth went soft and pliant, and she pressed against him. He gave a low growl and ran his tongue along the seam of her lips. And she let him in. God in heaven, she let the man kiss her senseless, right there in front of the whole world. She didn’t want him to stop. Ever.

  Someone whooped near them, and Finn drew back as if stung. He looked around, his face reddening.

  “I...I’m sorry...” He mumbled the words, his face close enough to hers for the words to be private. “That’s not what I expected...I mean...intended. It won’t happen again.” The corner of his mouth tipped up. “But damn, woman. You’re good at this.”

  * * *

  THERE WAS A storm of emotion in Bridget’s eyes, and Finn got the distinct impression that when she finally picked one to go with, he was a dead man. For some bizarre reason, she’d gone along with him in front of Greer. And then the entire bar. But he had no doubt she was now ready to eviscerate him. Bright spots of pink rose on her cheeks as a few more people congratulated them. Then Michael started announcing the trivia winners and the crowd was blessedly distracted. Even Greer turned away to rejoin his table, oblivious to the fact that’d just blown up Finn’s life. And Bridget’s. Her smile was so brittle Finn thought it might crack. Her voice was even more so.

  “Can you join me in the kitchen...honey?” Her tight grip left him no choice as she tugged him along. The kitchen was where the knives were. Not good.

  “You’re not going to serve me up for dinner, are you?”

  She laughed, but there was no humor in it.

  “Don’t be scared, snookems.” She glanced over her shoulder at him as her free hand punched the kitchen door open. “Although that’s not a bad idea.”

  Marta Leveritt was washing dishes while Jimmy manned the grill. The couple had returned last week. Bridget said she had to do a lot of graveling—and offer a raise—to get them to come back. He’d met them briefly last week. Marta’s thick, dark hair was pulled up in a knot on top of her head. Her husband’s was tugged back into a tiny silver man bun. They barely glanced up when Bridget and Finn walked in.

  Bridget looked around, then growled. Like...actually growled as if she were an angry, trapped animal. Finn gestured toward the back door. It was cold as hell outside, but at least they’d have privacy. Of course, there’d also be no witnesses if she opted for murder.

  She headed out, grabbing a jacket from a hook and sliding it over her shoulders. She stood with her back toward him, staring out across the area she’d told him would be a beer garden by summer. As soon as the door clicked shut, she spoke.

  “I am so freaking angry with you right now that I can’t...even...” She spun to face him, swinging her arm to point to the pub. The cold made little puffs of steam rise from her words. “What the ever-loving hell happened in there? Engaged? You’re telling people we’re engaged?” Her anger was just heating up, and he knew better than interrupt her explosion. “Are you some sick stalker, fixated with your landlady? What is it, Finn? Did I smile at you funny and you took that as hey-she-loves-me-let’s-get-married? Is there a wall in your apartment covered with creepy photos of me?”

  She stepped up so close that Finn could see the fire in her eyes. “You told your boss? And i
t never occurred to you to mention this little fantasy to me? I fucking live in this town, and you show up with all your Irish charm and everyone falls for you and they believe you so you figured you’d just spin a tale and see what happened? Is this that Irish blarney I keep hearing about? Is it some kind of green card con game?” She clasped her hands to the sides of her head, like she thought it might come apart. “My family believes it now. My grandmother...”

  Bridget’s voice broke, and the small sound sliced right through Finn’s chest. He’d told himself the engagement story was a victimless crime, but he was staring at the victim right now. He’d done this to her.

  “I’m an ass.” It was time to start telling the truth. He reached for her.

  “You think?” She swatted his hands away. “I played along in there to avoid a scene. But this little engagement of ours?” She gestured between the two of them. “It’s over. Consider us officially broken up. You can tell your boss the tragic news in the morning. Blame it on me...whatever...I don’t care. Just end it.”

  “Not yet...” He spoke his panicked thoughts out loud. “Look, we don’t need any more PDAs, but can we just let the story ride a while longer? Until Greer takes the ax away from my neck? I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll tend bar every night. I’ll wash dishes. I’ll mop floors. Hell, I’ll change the oil in your car and rotate your tires.” He finally brought himself more under control. He knew he sounded terrified. “I not only like this job, I need it. I need the work visa. He just wants proof that I’m not a flight risk.”

  “Why does he think...?” Her voice softened for a moment, then hardened again. “You know what? I don’t care. I just want to know why you thought dragging me into your problems was a good idea.”

  Finn stared up at the starlit sky. The night was cold and crisp, and the stars were sharp and bright against the pitch-black backdrop. He rubbed his neck, trying to come up with a logical explanation and knowing there wasn’t one. He met her gaze and shrugged.

  “It was supposed to be a joke. Greer was hassling me about not being a part of the community. He kept threatening and pushing. I sarcastically said something about you and me. And hell if he didn’t believe it!” Bridget huffed out a laugh of surprise, and he nodded. “I know, I know. It didn’t occur to me that he was serious until I was too deep into it to retract...” He frowned. “No, that’s not true. I could have stopped it, but for the first time since I got here, I didn’t feel like he was looking for a reason to fire me. He acted like tenure was an actual possibility. I was basking in the feeling and before I knew what was happening, I was answering questions about us and...”

  Why had he kept going? He thought of the doubt in Greer’s eyes when they’d started their meeting. The mistrust. Finn just wanted people to respect him again.

  Bridget’s mouth had fallen open. “Answering questions? Tell the truth—you were just making shit up. There is no ‘us,’ Finn. You had to know I’d hear about it.”

  “I told him it was a secret...” His voice trailed off. The more Finn spoke, the more idiotic he felt. “Oi, I know it was a stupid thing to do, okay? I know that. But it was like I was in a trance or something. I kept talking and talking, and by the time I snapped out of it, I couldn’t fix things without admitting I’d just lied to the man.”

  “You figured lying to me was okay, though.” There was a hurt in her voice that bounced right back at him.

  “I’m so sorry. I swear to God I didn’t think... I told him to keep quiet, damn it. He told me he didn’t come to the Shamrock. I thought I’d wait until the semester is over and once I got tenure I’d just tell him we broke up.”

  Her right brow arched high. “So you weren’t going to carry it all the way through and marry me, then?”

  “Of course not. This isn’t a green card thing. I mean, it is, but it’s not a green card marriage proposal.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “There is no ‘of course’ with you, because you are clearly a loose cannon. But I can tell you one thing, the engagement is off. I’ve got too much on my plate to play green card princess for you.”

  Her phone had been chirping with incoming texts, and she snatched it out of her pocket. Her face went pale. He had a feeling things just went from very bad to much worse.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What have you done to my life, Finn?” Her voice was low and tense. “Kelly and Michael have been busy sharing our news with the family. My cousin Mary is asking if it’s going to be a shotgun wedding. If I’m not pregnant, she’s demanding we wait until after she has the baby so she can be my matron of honor. Timothy wants to host the engagement party. Oh, and look—Kelly talked to Nana, and says Nana is thrilled. Nana says we should have a Christmas wedding so...” She sucked in a breath, then looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “So her hair will be grown back.”

  Finn closed his eyes tight. The pain on her face was unbearable. Knowing that he’d put it there made his chest ache.

  “You son of a bitch,” she hissed. “Now I have to go tell my grandmother—my grandmother who has effing cancer—that ha-ha it’s all a bad joke. Sorry, Nana. No wedding for you! You’ve been depressed, but too bad. Now you’ll be even worse, all because Finn O’Hearn has no attachment to reality.”

  He reached out to her again, but she jumped back. “Don’t touch me! I hate you, Finn. I am barely hanging on to this business, to my house, to my sanity. And as if that wasn’t enough, you just threw a grenade right in the middle of it all. Get away from me. This joke of yours is over.” She moved around him and grabbed the door. “And find another apartment. I want you out of my house.”

  Finn stood there in the frigid cold like a statue. His body was immobile, but his brain was racing straight for a cliff. He’d lose his job. He’d lose his visa. He’d never work in academia again. And this time he’d brought it all on himself. Maybe he could find a job teaching preteens in some small Irish village. Far away from the wreckage of his life, and the wreckage he’d left for Bridget. His shoulders fell. He had to fix things first. He had to explain and apologize to her family.

  He couldn’t just walk away and leave her to clean up his mess.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE EMERGENCY FAMILY meeting the next morning was fully attended. Everyone wanted to gawk at the new bride-to-be in their midst. To hug her and exclaim how surprised and happy they were. And to make plans. So many plans.

  She’d barely sat down before calendars were spread out on the table and dates were being tossed around for engagement parties and showers and dress shopping and the wedding. When would it be? Where would it be? Mary said it would naturally be at St. Vincent’s church, but Kelly thought the waterfront might be nice and Timothy’s wife said the Falls Legend Winery would be a perfect setting for a small fall wedding.

  Mary scoffed at that idea. McKinnons didn’t do anything small. They needed a venue for at least two hundred, which made Bridget wonder if she even knew two hundred people well enough to invite them to her wedding, which finally brought her back to her senses. She raised her hand, Nana-style, to stop—or at least slow—the conversation.

  “Guys! Seriously...guys! Stop! There isn’t going to be...”

  Nana walked into the kitchen with little Katie holding her hand, and everyone turned to greet her. She was smiling ear to ear. It was the happiest Bridget had seen her grandmother since the cancer diagnosis.

  “There’s our beautiful bride!” Everyone cheered while Bridget groaned to herself. “And you’re marrying an Irishman!” More cheers. Damn Finn O’Hearn to hell. If she had a voodoo doll, she’d be stabbing it into oblivion right now. “This was exactly the news I needed to hear.” Nana moved toward her chair, and for the first time, Bridget noticed she wasn’t very steady on her feet. She was shuffling, and reached out for the table’s edge. Tim stood up to take her arm.

  “Nana? You okay?”

  She waved him away, her
smile still beaming. “I’m fine, dear. Just a little tired from the excitement last night. But my gosh, I’m happy.”

  Kelly got up and started refilling everyone’s coffee, as Tim started to sit again. “I know, right? And it happened under our noses without any of us seeing it! You’re a better actress than I thought, Bridg.”

  Bridget swallowed hard. Now was the time to tell the truth. Right this minute. Before this farce went any further. “Look, everyone...the reason I called a meeting was because I have to tell you that Finn and I...”

  “Look out!” Michael jumped to his feet with a yell as Nana stumbled and dropped to one knee with a small cry. Timothy managed to catch her and ease the impact, but the room erupted into chaos.

  “What happened?”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Should we call the doctor?”

  “Did she trip on something?”

  “Here, help her into this chair.”

  “Call the doctor!”

  “Nana, did you faint?”

  “Are you going to throw up?”

  “Mommy, why did Great Nana fall down?”

  “Someone grab a dishpan in case she throws up!”

  “She’s not going to throw up.”

  Nana finally slapped her hand on the table as Timothy eased her into her chair, bringing instant silence to the kitchen.

  “That’s enough. I fell because I can’t feel my damn feet. The doctor said it’s neuropathy. Some days they hurt, some days I can’t even tell where they are. But I’m fine. It’s just another side effect of the chemo. But forget about me. Let’s get back to this wedding news.”

  Everyone other than Nana was looking around the room, asking a thousand silent questions and voicing a thousand worries with their eyes. Their matriarch was tired. Bald. Stumbling. Sick. And, even if she wouldn’t admit it, afraid. They could see it in the way she stared at the table, blinking rapidly as she tried to move the conversation back to the wedding without making eye contact with anyone. If Nana sensed the tension swirling around the room, she didn’t acknowledge it. She straightened and fixed her attention on Bridget.