Driftwood Cottage

Connor, of course. She turned to find him holding her scarf, her gloves and an umbrella. It was almost enough to put a smile back on her face. Almost, but not quite.

“You should come back inside,” he said, a worried frown on his face.

She shook her head. She didn’t want to face the curious stares or the unspoken questions about what had upset her. She saw the same puzzlement on Connor’s face, even though he should have known exactly what sent her running from the house.

“Want me to drive you home?” he asked. “I can bring the baby back later.”

She regarded him gratefully. “Would you mind?”

“If that’s what you really want, I’ll be happy to take you.”

“It’s what I want,” she said at once.

“Okay, then,” he said, though he looked vaguely disappointed.

He led the way to his car, settled her inside, then turned on the heater. It was mostly a wasted effort, since they’d be at her apartment before it warmed up much. They rode in silence for the few minutes it took to reach the alley that ran behind the shops and apartments.

“I’m sorry,” he said as she was about to open the door.

She paused and met his gaze. “For?”

He seemed to be struggling to find the words. “I know how badly you wanted to be part of a big family. It must be hard to be there in the middle of mine.”

She nodded. “It just makes me think about what could have been, that’s all. Don’t blame yourself. It’s not as if you dangled some promise in front of me and then yanked it away.”

He shook his head. “But in a way, that’s exactly what I did, and I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Heather sighed. “I know that. Sometimes things just happen. I should go inside, and you need to get back. Please apologize to everyone for me.”

“No apology necessary. I’ll see you in a couple of hours, okay? I’ll wait till after the baby has his nap before I bring him home. That way you’ll have time to get some rest, too.”

“I’ll probably go downstairs,” she said. “I need to catch up on some things in the shop.”

“You need rest more,” he said.

“Looking after me isn’t your job any longer,” she told him, trying to protect herself from the way his caring made her feel. It might be an illusion, but she felt cherished.

He shrugged. “I can’t help it. Old habits are hard to break. I’ll bring some leftovers when I come. You barely touched your meal, and you completely missed dessert. Word is it’s Gram’s apple pie. There’s none better. I’ll bring you a slice.”

She chuckled. “You’re no better than your dad, you know. You’re trying to fatten me up.”

Connor winced at the comparison, then shrugged it off. “I’m bringing the pie, and I’m going to sit right here while you eat every bite. You’ll thank me later.”

The temptation to slide over and kiss him was suddenly so overwhelming, Heather forced herself to throw open the car door and bolt without responding. Only after she was upstairs in her apartment, with the door safely locked behind her, did she release the breath she’d been holding.

Heaven help her! When an O’Brien turned on the charm and showed his soft, caring side, what mortal woman could possibly resist? And yet somehow, she knew she had to. Her future depended on it.

When Connor had seen Heather standing on the edge of the cliff with rain soaking her, he’d wanted desperately to sweep her into his arms and carry her into the house, into his bed and spend the rest of the afternoon warming her up with his body heat. He’d settled for handing her gloves and scarf to her and holding an umbrella over her head because he’d known she would allow no more. Her wary gaze had been a warning to tread carefully.

Driving away from her apartment just now, knowing she was upset and that he was responsible, had been just as hard.

But neither of those things prepared him for walking back into his house and facing down the judgmental stares of his entire family.

“Where’s Heather?” Megan asked, her expression filled with concern.

“I drove her home,” he told his mother. “She apologizes for running out. She wasn’t feeling well.”

“Feeling left out, more than likely,” Mick said, showing surprising insight for a man who was usually oblivious to subtleties.

From across the table, Abby scowled at him. “Connor, I just don’t understand why you’re being so pigheaded. Anyone can see that you love this woman.”

“I do,” he agreed readily. “It’s not enough.”

“Well, of course it’s not,” Mick said with undisguised disgust. “She had your baby. She has a right to expect you to make an honest woman of her. That’s what I expect from you, too.” He frowned at Connor. “And I don’t want to hear any more of this garbage about not believing in marriage.”

“Well, I don’t,” Connor said belligerently, turning to the rest of his family. “No offense intended to those of you who do. You get to live your lives the way you want to. Show me the same courtesy.”

“Even if your stance is costing you the woman you claim to love and your son?” Thomas asked mildly. “Everyone here just wants to see you happy. If you can tell us that you are, then God bless.”

“Well?” Mick prodded, picking up where Thomas had left off. “Let’s hear how happy you are.”

Connor remained stubbornly silent. Only the knowledge that bolting from the room would be an act of cowardice kept him in place.

“Enough,” his grandmother said. “Connor has to find his own way, the same as the rest of you have. Megan, Jess, why don’t you clear the table, and I’ll bring out the pie and ice cream.”

Relieved to have a reprieve, Connor sighed. Kevin gave him an amused look.

“You don’t actually think you’re off the hook, do you?” his big brother asked.

“I was hoping,” Connor admitted.

“Not likely,” Trace told him.

“In fact, something tells me the crowd’s just getting warmed up,” Jake added.

Sensing unity, Mick gave him a benevolent look. “You won’t win this one, Connor. Marry the woman.”

“Even if I think marriage inevitably leads to heartache?” he asked. “Even though I see proof of that every single day?” He turned to his uncle. “What about you? Back me up here. You’ve divorced twice. You know a piece of paper doesn’t guarantee anything.”

Thomas gave him a pitying look. “Being married was the happiest time of my life. I loved both of my wives. You won’t find me arguing against the potential joy of marriage. When it works, it’s worth every bit of struggle it takes to get it right.”

“And yet, here you are, with us on a Sunday afternoon,” Connor retorted.

“And I’d give anything to have it otherwise,” Thomas said. “I’d go back to either one of my wives, if they’d have me, but sadly I burned those bridges. If the opportunity arises and I find another woman to love, it won’t take me but a minute to take that walk down the aisle again.”

“Don’t say that in front of Gram,” Kevin warned. “You know how she feels about divorce because of the church. In her eyes, Dad and Mom were never divorced in the first place, so that wedding they had back on New Year’s Eve was nothing but a renewal of vows. She’s probably lighting candles right and left for you after two divorces.”

Thomas grimaced. “Believe me, I’ve heard Ma’s opinion on the subject more than once. I’m just saying that when it comes to marriage, I’m a believer. People were meant to go through life with a partner at their side who loves them unconditionally.”