Lilac Lane

But then Moira and Dillon had somehow convinced Kiera to move back to Dublin, where, they’d said, there were more opportunities. They dangled new opportunities like strands of glittering gold, told her any one of them would be an improvement over her dead-end career in a dingy neighborhood pub in a tiny seaside village on the coast north of Dublin where she’d toiled for long hours and low pay for most of her life. Moira had actually had the audacity to scold her for accepting security for her family over any ambitions she might have once had to run a restaurant of her own.

“Where’s your confidence and self-respect?” Moira had demanded. “You’re a far better waitress and cook than I am. And you’ve management skills, as well. Look at how well you’ve kept our family afloat.”

Kiera knew the truth of that. Moira was competent, but her heart wasn’t in the restaurant business, not even that Irish pub she was hoping to run with her new husband in Chesapeake Shores, Maryland. Luke O’Brien was the attraction there.

Moira’s clever argument took another twist. “After all Peter’s done for me, it’s only fitting that I not leave him in the lurch when I move to Chesapeake Shores. Come to Dublin, where you’ll be making at least twice the tips and have the support of a man who’s been nothing short of an angel to me. He’d be the same for you. It could be the sort of partnership your life’s been lacking.”

Kiera noted with some amusement that Moira hadn’t suggested romance, a word her daughter knew well would have sent Kiera fleeing in the opposite direction.

“He has his own children to step in and help with the running of the pub,” Kiera had protested, even though much of what her daughter said made sense.

The prospect of starting over, though, was a scary business. As harsh and difficult as her life had been, it was a niche in which she felt comfortable. With children to support on her own, she’d stopped taking chances. Moira was exactly right about that. She’d put her family first. Wasn’t that what a mother was meant to do? The thought of taking a daring risk now was beyond terrifying and yet, perhaps, just a little intriguing.

“His sons have little interest in the pub, much to Peter’s dismay,” Moira said. “There will be room for you. Peter will welcome the help and the company. If you ask me, he’s been a wee bit lonely since his wife’s passing.”

Persuaded at last—or perhaps simply worn down—Kiera had made the move, but only after telling Peter very, very firmly that he was not to be having expectations of a personal nature where she was concerned. He’d agreed to her terms, but there’d been a smile on his lips and a spark in his blue eyes that she probably shouldn’t have ignored.

And there he’d been, day in and day out for the better part of two years, always with a quick-witted comment that made her laugh or a gesture that softened her heart. And his patience truly had been a revelation to her. He’d done not one single thing to make her feel rushed, to make her put up her well-honed guard. Nor was he one to overindulge in Guinness, a habit that would have sent Kiera running even faster after living with Sean’s uncontrolled bouts of drinking and subsequent abusive talk.

And so, eventually, one by one, her defenses fell. She found herself looking forward to their late-night talks after the pub closed, to his interest in her opinions. Maybe most of all, she’d basked in his kind and steady company that made her feel secure as she hadn’t since the very earliest days of her marriage to Sean Malone. She’d last felt that way before Sean’s drinking had started, before he’d walked out the door of their home for the very last time, leaving her with two sons who were not yet ready to start school and a daughter just home from the hospital.

Because she’d made such a show of rebellion in marrying Sean in the first place, Kiera hadn’t allowed herself to go running home to her parents back then. Instead, she’d struggled to make do, surviving on her own, if barely. It was only when her mum lay dying that she’d reconciled with her parents and eventually allowed them back into her life and the lives of her children. Her sons and daughter hadn’t even been aware that they had grandparents who might dote on them if given the chance.

Now with all three of her children grown and finding their own paths—albeit in the case of her sons, a path she wouldn’t have chosen, the same one their dad had taken—Kiera had been at loose ends when she made the move back to Dublin. She’d perhaps been more vulnerable than she’d allowed herself to be in years.

She couldn’t claim that Peter had taken unfair advantage of that. He’d been too fine a man to do so, but the fact was, she’d finally been ready to reach for a little happiness. Peter had offered the promise of that and more. And exactly as Moira had predicted, his sons were happy enough to have her in their father’s life and working by his side at the pub. The future looked bright with the sort of promise of love and stability she’d once dreamed of, but never imagined truly finding.

And, then, on the very day she’d said yes, when she’d opened her heart and allowed Peter to put a ring on her finger, a ring he’d claimed he’d been holding on to for years for just such a glorious day, he’d betrayed her as surely as Sean Malone ever had. He’d suffered a fatal heart attack just hours later, and once again, Kiera was alone and adrift. Abandoned.

Wasn’t that just the way of the bloody world? she thought, her protective bitterness returning in spades and her fragile heart once more shattered into pieces.

Chapter 1 (#u759c93d3-b3bd-5062-b4f9-8f1055888241)

Moira O’Brien sat in the kitchen of her grandfather’s cozy home by the Chesapeake Bay, a home he shared with Nell O’Brien O’Malley, with whom he’d been reunited only a few short years ago after a lifetime of being separated. The air was rich with the scent of cranberry-orange scones baking in the oven and Irish Breakfast Tea steeping in a treasured antique flowered teapot on the table. Nell had brought it home from Ireland after visiting her grandparents decades ago. She said it had been her Irish grandmother’s favorite.

“What should we be doing about our Kiera?” Nell asked them. Though Kiera hadn’t even come to Chesapeake Shores for her own father’s wedding to Nell or for Moira’s wedding to Luke O’Brien on the same day, Nell had always considered her family, embracing her and fretting over her as surely as she did her own children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She was the most nurturing person Moira had ever known.

Moira bounced her baby girl on her knee as she considered the problem they’d all been worrying about ever since they’d heard the news about Peter’s untimely death right on the heels of the far happier news about his engagement to Kiera.

“Kiera will make her own choices,” Dillon said, his tone a mix of resignation and worry. “I know my daughter all too well. Pushing her to bend in the way we’d like will never work. She’ll simply dig in her heels out of pure stubbornness, exactly as she did when she married Sean Malone against my wishes all those years ago. Right now she’s probably regretting the very fact that she let us convince her to move to Dublin in the first place. She’ll be listening to very little of the advice we offer.”

“Well, it’s sure that my brothers won’t be around to support her,” Moira said disdainfully. “She hasn’t once mentioned them since Peter died. I doubt they come around at all these days except to ask for a handout.”

Nell gave her a disapproving look, but Moira knew she was right. Her brothers were following a little too closely in their father’s drunken footsteps. “She belongs here with us,” she said emphatically, keeping her gaze steady on her grandfather. “You know I’m right. She needs the kind of family we’ve found here. A steady dose of the O’Briens will restore her spirits. She wasted years on bitterness and regrets after my dad left. I know she’d say she was working too hard to waste time on love, but the truth is she was too terrified to take a chance that she’d be making another poor choice. We can’t allow her to do the same again.”

To Moira’s surprise, it was Nell who promptly backed her.

“I agree that coming here is exactly what she needs,” she said, then reached over to stroke the baby’s cheek. “And I think our darling little Kate right here and her need for a grandmother’s attention is the very reason Kiera won’t fight us on this.”

Moira saw the light of near-certain victory spark in her grandfather’s eyes and knew Nell had hit on the perfect solution. “You’re suggesting I throw myself on her mercy, tell her that I’m in desperate need of help with the baby, even though our Kate is perfectly content in Carrie’s day care center,” Moira concluded.

“Which has been dreadfully overcrowded since the day it opened,” Nell claimed with exaggerated innocence.

“Dreadfully,” Dillon confirmed, nodding, his expression astonishingly serious for a man who knew they were bending the truth, if not flat-out breaking it. Nell’s great-granddaughter’s child care business was flourishing, that much was true, but she had more than enough competent staff to manage it.

“If you think it will take more to persuade her, there’s your own husband’s pub, which is in dire need of an extra pair of hands,” Nell added. “You’re far too busy with your photography and your travel to exhibitions to help my grandson out as you once did.”

Moira nodded. “True enough. Megan would have me traveling once a month if I’d agree to it. I suspect she’s exaggerating a bit, but she tells me she’s had to turn down requests for shows, because I won’t make myself available as often as she’d like. She’s got quite a knack for inducing guilt.”

“Exactly, but we can use that to our advantage with Kiera,” Nell said. “And my health is far too fragile for me to be spending my spare minutes in the kitchen at the pub keeping a watchful eye on the chef to be sure the menu doesn’t stray too far from proper Irish recipes.”

“Nell, you’ve given us a scare or two, but in all honesty, you’re about as fragile as a steel beam,” Moira replied, but she was laughing at the clever strategy. If she handled the performance convincingly, it would play on all of her mum’s weaknesses, most especially on her need to be useful while keeping a firm grip on her independence.

“And you’re wickedly devious to boot,” she told Nell. “Both traits I admire, I might add.”

“I’ll thank you for that,” Nell said, clearly taking it as the praise Moira had intended. “With a contrary family the size of mine, it’s always best to have a few tricks up my sleeve. Sadly, most of them are onto me now.”

“Isn’t this something we should at least be discussing with Luke?” Dillon asked, inserting a word of caution. “If we intend to push Kiera into a job at his pub, he should be brought on board with our plan.”

“Leave Luke to me,” Moira said confidently. “I think I can convince him of the advantages of having her here. It would allow him more free time at home with me and Kate. Mum is far more experienced at running a pub than I ever thought of being. Not only was she more competent, but she loved it as I never did. She’ll be a true asset.”

“Are we agreed, then, that once Luke’s given us his blessing, Moira should be the one to make the call?” Dillon asked. “It’ll receive a better reception than any suggestion that comes from me. Kiera and I have made our peace, but it’s tenuous at best.” He studied Moira. “How are your skills at bending the truth without getting caught?”

Moira laughed. “An improvement on yours, and that’s a fact.”

* * *

Luke walked into his house on Beach Lane well after midnight, expecting to find his wife and daughter sound asleep as they usually were. Instead, he opened the door to discover the soft glow of dozens of candles and his wife wearing one of those shimmery gowns that skimmed over her curves and never failed to cause a hitch in his breath in the few seconds before he managed to get it off her.

Suspicion warred with heat, but as usual the heat won. With his gaze locked with hers, he tried to assess the glint in her eyes as he crossed the room and accepted the glass of champagne she held out to him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a welcome like this at the end of the day,” he murmured, his gaze drifting to the swell of her breast where the gown had dipped low.

“And it’s long overdue, it is,” Moira said, her voice soft and filled with promise.

She pushed him back against the cushions of the sofa and settled snugly against him. “I’ve missed our time like this. Haven’t you?”

“It’s not as if our love life has been lacking,” he commented in a choked voice as her hand tugged his T-shirt free and slipped below to caress bare skin.

“Not lacking for sure,” she conceded. “But less spontaneous. You can’t deny that. With our schedules so demanding, we practically need an appointment to have a moment like this.”

“And you’ve been missing the spontaneity?”

“Old married couples need an occasional spark to liven things up,” she said, and managed to say it with a straight face.

As intrigued as he was by where this was heading, Luke couldn’t seem to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “Old married couple? Is that how you’re thinking of us these days? When did we both turn gray and start hobbling around? In my opinion, we’ve barely left the honeymoon phase.”

She frowned at his teasing. “If you’re not interested after I’ve gone to all this trouble,” she huffed in typical Moira fashion. She’d always been too quick to take offense.