“Sounds pretty fun. Sounds like something I would have done in college. What else did you used to do for fun around here?”
She pushed her sunglasses back up on her head, and he was glad. He liked to see her eyes, even though they left him feeling a little breathless and not quite in charge of himself.
“We did lots of stuff, most of which my dad was not happy about. There are reasons I’m his least favorite daughter.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.” She seemed earnest and yet oddly matter-of-fact about this statement. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if he thought he was Tag’s least favorite. Clearly that was Bryce.
“No, it’s true. I was a pain in the ass. My friends and I were always drinking out in the woods and stealing candy from the fudge shops.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. I’ve done worse.”
“Yes, but he was the chief of police, so it was always extra embarrassing for him when I got busted for something.” She looked at him for a moment, as if weighing her words. “And once he caught me skinny-dipping with a boy in the pool at the Imperial Hotel.”
Not that shocking. He’d like to skinny-dip with her. “Hmm. How old were you?”
“Nineteen.”
“Technically a legal adult.”
“Sure, but it still wasn’t legal to be naked in a hotel pool at midnight. Dad was pretty pissed.”
Ryan picked up his own iced tea. “I guess I can understand that, him being your father and all. Although in the scheme of things, it’s not that bad.”
She paused for another moment before adding, “He told me I couldn’t date that boy anymore. So I ran away and married him. If Dad wasn’t my biggest fan before, that pretty much sealed the deal. I can count the number of decent conversations we’ve had since then on one finger. We are an Irish people on Wenniway Island. Slights are not easily forgotten.” She said this conversationally, too. Like she was reporting the weather instead of telling him something that would seem momentous in his family.
Ryan and his brothers had gotten into their own share of trouble, but no matter what it was or how bad they’d been, Ryan never doubted that his parents always loved them.
“That’s . . . I can’t imagine that. I’m sorry.”
She brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “It’s all right. Chloe and I are here now, and we’re having a pretty nice visit. I actually think my dad might be starting to thaw, so as long as I don’t screw anything up while I’m here, maybe we’ll start to get along better. And speaking of not screwing things up, I’d better get to Gigi’s cottage. When I left yesterday, there were light fixtures dangling from wires, and we’re still trying to figure out where a particularly odoriferous aroma is coming from. Even the fudge can’t cover it up.”
Ryan nodded and stood up when she did. “I suppose I should get over to the Clairmont, too. Dad’s got some blueprints he wants me to look over.”
“The Clairmont? Is that who you’re consulting for?”
Technically? No. But he couldn’t tell her anything about those Mahoney women because there was a very strict confidentiality clause in the contract they’d signed yesterday morning. He was doing a few things at the Clairmont for his father, but as soon as possible, he planned to head over to old Bridget O’Malley’s place to try to woo her into selling him her property.
“Um, yes. The Clairmont.”
“Oh, you’re working for the enemy then.” Emily tucked the chair in under the table, and her smile was easygoing.
“The enemy?”
“Oh yeah. Big feud. Herb Mahoney owns the Clairmont, and the Callaghans and Mahoneys haven’t seen eye-to-eye since, well, since forever. Not sure why.” She chuckled and started walking. “It’s silly, really, but Gigi and June Mahoney are determined to keep it going. Right now we’re having rental wars. It’s partly why I’m here.”
He fell into step beside her. “Because of a feud?”
She nodded. “Gigi is convinced the Mahoney sisters are trying to lure away her summer tenants, and they probably are. That’s why this renovation I’m working on is so important. Gigi wants her cottages to be nicer than the Mahoneys’ cottages.”
Ryan’s step faltered. Because. Shit. If what Emily said was true, then he really was working for the enemy. “I’m sure there are enough tourists and visitors to keep all the cottages rented.”
“I’m sure there are. It’s really just the principle of it. Like I said, it’s a silly feud.”
It was. Certainly it was, and yet Ryan couldn’t help but feel a little bit awkward knowing he was about to go buy more property for June Mahoney. That wasn’t going to sit very well with Gigi, and possibly not with Emily, but the contract was signed. Nothing he could do about that now. Business was business, after all.
Chapter 18
Sunday morning, back at Saint Bart’s, and Emily had a headache. Not a terrible headache. Just the dull kind that made her feel sleepy and kind of stupid. Drunk puzzle night had been a little too much fun. Seeing a cluster of her old friends, reminiscing about good times and past antics was just what Emily needed. Somewhere in Texas, she’d forgotten who she was. Being back at Trillium Bay, being with friends and family, was helping her to remember. That girl she’d been in the past? She wasn’t so bad. Unruly? Very much so, but other than her friction with Harlan, life on Wenniway had been pretty good.
It didn’t feel quite so good this morning, though. She had a teensy hangover, and Gigi was muttering something about the Mahoney sisters. She was on a roll, though, and didn’t require much response, so Emily just nodded at regular intervals and made sympathetic sounds when it seemed appropriate.
“There’s Grandpa,” Chloe said. She waved at him as he approached, and he almost, very nearly smiled as he sat down next to her.
“Good morning, ladies. How is everyone?”
“I’m fine, Grandpa. Happy Father’s Day.”
Shit. It was Father’s Day? No wonder Harlan didn’t like her. She didn’t even know what day it was! Some of the other guys had rosebuds pinned to the lapel of their jackets, but Harlan wasn’t wearing a jacket. In fact, he was wearing his uniform. Probably because he figured no one had planned a party for him. Someone should have reminded her. Where the hell was Brooke? She was usually in charge of this kind of thing, wasn’t she?
“Guess what I saw the other day,” Chloe said to her grandfather.
“Turtles?”
“Nope.”
“A freighter?”
“Nope. I saw a couple of horses doing it.”
Emily gasped. “Chloe! We’re in church!”