"No, more than that. Look I gotta go. Ill see you Sat.u.r.day."
"All right."
Rachel disconnected, uneasy and confused. Hed left this morning with a smile on his face and joy in his heart. She was certain of that. What had happened in the interim? Was it the book deal? Or did his mood have something to do with her? All of a sudden, the euphoria of making love with Dylan the past few nights diminished like steam in a shower.
Chapter 15.
A bright, crisp sun filtered into Dylans bedroom window on St. Patricks Day morn, though he could feel the temperature had dropped again. Hed always looked forward to this holiday with his family and the revelers who visited the pub before and after the parade down Fifth Avenue. Basking in the warm rays, he decided that hed enjoy the festivities despite what had happened with the book deal. And his still-undecided future with Rachel.
He started to think about being with her, how disappointed shed seemed on the phone, but quelled his thoughts. Instead, he bounded out of bed, got coffee, showered, put on his green, long-sleeved pub shirt and was out the door by seven.
Humming "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling," he walked into the pub kitchen fifteen minutes later.
And found Liam and Sophie in a big-time lip lock.
Feeling jealous as h.e.l.l, he quipped, "Get a room, you two."
Not letting her go, Liam glanced over at Dylan. "The rooms at my house are unfortunately filled." He smiled down at Sophie as if shed hung the moon. "Right, Sophie baby?" The term her firefighter crew called her, after theyd rescued her as a child. Shed grown up to become one of them.
There was something about the two of them standing there, pooled in the light coming through the window over the sink, which struck Dylan. A sureness. A security. Maybe it was their knowledge of being well loved.
When Sophie pulled away from Liam and turned, he patted her on the a.s.s and she squealed. "Watch out, there, mister." She grinned and headed for the door. "Im going to see whos here already."
"The firefighters from your crew?" Dylan asked.
Sophies usual job was on Ladder 4, but she was putting in a stint at the Academy for a few months. "Yeah, itll be good to see them again."
Liam frowned at her. "Shes eating with them."
"No, Im helping to serve."
"No, youre not. Go out and enjoy them, Soph. Youll be plenty busy all day." He winked at her and her eyes lit, her brows lifted. Hmm.
Dylan shrugged out of his leather coat and drew a mug of coffee. "Can I help?"
"You can do the rest of the toast. Breakfast is almost ready."
"It smells terrific." Dylan crossed to the counter by the stove and put slices of thick bread into the toaster. Then he s.n.a.t.c.hed a piece of bacon. "Mmm."
"Get a plate," Liam told him. "Theres time to eat." As he drew a dish out of the nearby cupboard, Dylan gave his brother a once-over. His face was relaxed and his whole body at ease. "Whats going on with you today? You never let us snitch food."
"Im just happy. I love today." He gave Dylan a glance. "Kitty used to, too. Remember?"
Dylan could still see the dark-eyed beauty who was Liams wife before she died of cancer, dressing up every year in as much green as she could wear and laughingly enjoying the day.
"Is it hard without her again this year?"
"Ill always have a hole in my heart because shes gone. But Sophie fills the rest up just fine."
Dylan took a portion of the traditional Irish breakfast: eggs, a variety of sausages and potatoes.
As he ate and Liam worked, Dylan felt the warmth of family eclipsing his anxiety from yesterday. And replacing worry over what he would do with the book, with Rachel. His phone buzzed with a text chime, and while Liam set up the trays, he glanced at his the message. Happy St. Patricks Day, Dylan. Have fun with your family.
He could almost hear the longing in Rachels words. Shed never had the camaraderie, the support from a whole gang of people, as he did. No one to spend today with. Suddenly, he wished she could be here with him.
"Ready?" Liam asked.
"Yep." He tied a towel around his waist and hefted a heavy tray. "Hey, Liam?"
His brother turned at the door. "Yeah?"
"Thanks for all you do at the pub. And for me."
Liams blue eyes were quizzical. "You okay?"
"Uh-huh. Go on out."
Triple the usual number of tables were occupied in the pub proper. Many in the crowd were firefighters, but there were new faces, and more customers streamed in the door. Since Baileys was an Irish establishment, theyd have lines waiting to get in for lunch and dinner later in the day. Then the real partying would begin. The business would make enough money so they could close at midnight and not encourage drinking till the wee hours.
When Sophie saw him and Liam, she got up to help. "Sit down!" Liam said. "Geez, woman. Cant you do what youre told for once."
Hank Bilotti, one of the guys who always teased Sophie, burst out laughing. "You gonna let him talk to you that way?"
With a twinkle in her eyes, she said, "Maybe," and sat back down.
Her lieutenant, Jim Mackenzie, smiled at her. "Glad youre eating with us, Soph. I miss you."
Juan Torres, the rookie on the squad, who had a big crush on Sophie added, "Man, me, too. When you coming back?"
Dylan set the potatoes and eggs on each of the tables, while Liam served the meat and toast. Everything was family style for all the patrons, but it was most fun watching Americas Bravest dig in. From the coffeepot set up off to the side, Liam filled a carafe and poured the guys more brew. Dylan tuned out when everyone was served.
He glanced at the walls of the pub. Yesterday, theyd decorated the place with green and white streamers, pictures of elves and rainbows and signs of Irish sayings, which Brie had laminated.
Crossing to the bar, he dragged out his phone and copied one. May the luck of the Irish be with you today, darlin. (Will stay in touch.) That made him feel more connected to Rachel. Maybe hed text her all day with the sayings. His mood lightened, hed started back to the tables when the front door flew open, and in walked Hannah Harper and her husband Dom, two of Sophies close firefighter friends. Hannah wasnt smiling though, and through the gla.s.s behind her, Dylan saw a crowd gathered at the entrance to the pub. "Hey, Hannah. You okay?"
"I am, but youre not gonna be." Worry filled dark, normally mirthful eyes.
"Excuse me?"
"Go look outside."
Dylan crossed to the window. Five people carried signs. And were starting to walk back and forth in front of the entrance. "Jesus H. Christ."
Liam joined him. "Whats going on?"
"Picketers. Of our pub."
"What are they, English?" Liam joked.
Dylans hands fisted. He hated when his work affected his family. "Look at the signs."
Three read: Leave KPRAY Alone. Unchristian Behavior in this Pub. Nonbelievers are d.a.m.ned.
"Wow!"
"Im going out there."
Liam grabbed a coat one of the brothers had left on the bar. "Wear this."
Cold morning air was blowing through the streets when Dylan stepped outside and faced the crowd. It was then he recognized Bill Winters, a man hed interviewed. Dylan went up to him and started walking with the guy. "Bill, whats going on?"
The man scowled. "You need to leave KPRAY alone." He gestured to the pub. "If not, you shouldnt prosper."
"Why are you doing this? You convinced me you could afford the money you gave to KPRAY."
"Yeah, but you made Mary Johnson cry."
"I did?" He remembered the grandmotherly woman hed spoken to just last week. "I only asked her about her kids."
"They arent going to college, and you made her feel like she should use the money she donates for them."
Well, he did think that.
"Listen, picketing isnt going to solve anything."
The door opened again, and Liam stepped out-carrying a tray with five full, steaming coffee cups. What the h.e.l.l?
"Here you go, guys," Liam said easily. "Youll freeze to death out here."
They eyed him suspiciously.
"And youre welcome to come and have some breakfast-on us. Dylan can sit with you and talk this whole thing through. No need for demonstrations. Especially the Christian sign. We ONeils are G.o.d-fearing people."
The five picketers conferred. And just like that, his little brother defused a potentially volatile situation. They all headed back into the bar.
Rachel had never paid much attention to St. Patricks Day. She wasnt Irish, and she never saw the fun in the day that so many others did. At her desk, she nibbled on some Irish soda bread and drank the tea Jeannie had brought in. And wished again she could be with Dylan to celebrate. Even for a little while. When her phone chimed, she grabbed for it. Dylan. Wishing her a happy day. How sweet.
Staring at his words on her screen, she recalled how she dreamed about him last night. That he was angry and upset. Rachel was sure the phone call shed received from Dylan was the real meaning of the dream. Huh. She wished she could cheer him up.
From outside her door, she heard Crane say, "Did you hear the one about the Irish priest and his brother?"
That gave her an idea. She clicked into her browser on the internet. Ten minutes later, she texted Dylan. What do you call an Irishman whos been dead for fifty years? Peat!
Maybe shed send the little jokes she found online to him all day. At least it would feel like she took part in the fun in a small way.
"Rach," someone called from the outer office. "Take a look at the local TV news."
She switched on the set in her office. New York news had a shot of Baileys Irish Pub being picketed. Seriously? Poor Dylan and his brothers. She hoped this didnt ruin their day.
By the time Dylan got back to his phone, he had three messages from Rachel. One was asking about the picketers. Shed seen it on the news. There were two jokes.
"Hey, C.J.," he called to his sister-in-law, who was clearing tables from the breakfast crowd with Sophie. Though the parade started at eleven a.m. and would go till about four, their place would be busy for lunch, so they were resetting for the daily meal of Irish stew or corned beef and cabbage.
"Did you hear about the blond Irishwoman with five legs?"
C.J.s head snapped up, and her pretty blue gaze narrowed on him. "Dont start."
"Her knickers fit her like a glove."
She shook her head, then studied him for a minute. "You okay?"
"Yeah, Liam got those guys inside, and they were civil after they ate."
"Does it make you more pro or con for KPRAY?"
"More pro. They were reasonable. I think the picketing was a knee-jerk reaction." He looked her up and down. The green shirt gave no indication of her pregnancy yet. "How you feeling?"
"Fine. My stomachs better."
"Shes got to stay off her feet." Aidan had come in from the kitchen with new placemats. "Here," he said. "You do this. Ill carry out the dishes."
A long-suffering sigh. "All right."
Turning his back on them, Dylan texted Rachel back. Im okay. Dodged the bullet with KPRAY. Keep sending me jokes. Im teasing everybody with them. Heres a nice Irish saying for you: May neighbors respect you, trouble neglect you, the angels protect you, and Heaven accept you.
Another joke popped up a minute later. "Hey, Sophie, listen to this. "An ugly redhead came up to the bartender in Donegals Pub the other night and asked him what reincarnation means? He told her its when you die you can come back as something else. The redhead said, "When I die I want to come back as a dog. The bartender said, "Youre not b.l.o.o.d.y listening to me!"
C.J. let some silverware clash to the table. "That is so s.e.xist."
Sophie added, "Lets take a break and find ammunition against him on the computer."
Aidan and Dylan guffawed. This was the way life should be.
Patrick came in from the back at eleven with a light dusting of snow on his hair and jacket. He was on the board of the parade-most people didnt know the whole show was staffed by volunteers-and he had some things to take care of in the morning for that. Besides, hed set up the schedule to stagger their work at the bar so everybody could have a couple of breaks.