No, there’d been no hand-holding or kisses. But he was back to calling her aisling, and there was an easiness, almost a relief, between them after their talk last night, and Tierney felt more excited, more happy, than she’d felt in a long, long time.

  “It was good,” she said firmly, grinning at Brittany.

  “Wait a second!” Brittany gasped. “Is that a smile? I didn’t know you had so many teeth, Tierney Haven!”

  Her silliness only made Tierney smile wider, shaking her head as she looked down at her shoes. “What can I say?”

  “You can tell me what you guys talked about!” Brittany screeched.

  “Shhhh! Oh, my God, they’re going to hear you,” said Tierney, shooting a glance at the locker room door as they passed by.

  “Pshaw! They’re in the shower,” said Brittany, pushing open the doors that led to the warm lobby. “Now tell!”

  She looked askance at her brother’s gir—no, at her friend—wishing she could tell Brittany everything.

  “He’s really, um, well…he’s really serious about—oh, yes!—um, sorting out the security issues for Moonstone Manor. Once he’s done with the—the, um, job, and we don’t work together anymore, we’ll…you know…give things a, um, try.” She nodded to add punctuation to her lies. “That’s, um—that was our talk.”

  “Gosh, that sucks,” said Brittany. “Is there a rule about dating where you work?”

  Oooo! That was a good one.

  “Yes,” said Tierney, “there, um, is, and it’s a serious offence, so…”

  Brittany scrunched up her nose. “So that’s it? You’re…waiting?”

  “Until the end of the season.” Tierney shrugged, hoping that her white lies were convincing. “Yeah.”

  “How?” demanded Brittany, her voice veering into shriek territory. “How can you do that? It’s got to be torture! You totally want each other, and you’re living in the same house!”

  “I’m…” Tierney bit her lip. She was about to say that part of her was grateful for the time because she was so inexperienced, and she wanted to be comfortable with Burr before things progressed physically between them. But she was worried about what Brittany would say if she confessed that she was a twenty-seven-year-old virgin.

  “You’re what?” asked Britt, a sweet smile on her face as she cocked her head to the side and gently pushed a lock of Tierney’s dark hair behind her ear.

  “I’ve never…” She cleared her throat. “I’ve never been with someone…like—like Brian.”

  “Oh,” said her friend, nodding conspiratorially. “I get it. He’s…really intense, right? But the intense ones are—”

  “No,” said Tierney quickly, shaking her head. “No. I mean…I mean, I’ve never been with anyone.”

  Her friend’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

  “It’s weird. I’m weird.”

  “No, it’s not.” Brittany insisted. “No, you’re not.”

  “I’m twenty-seven.”

  “I know, but—”

  “So it’s super weird,” said Tierney, pressing her still-cold hands to her heating-up cheeks. “He’s…I mean, I’m…”

  “You’re a virgin,” Brittany blurted out. Then she shrugged casually. “So what? We were all virgins at some point, Tierney.”

  “How old were you when—”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “How old, Britt?”

  “Nineteen.”

  Tierney’s shoulders, which were up around her ears, fell a little. “Eight years younger than me.”

  “Who cares?” asked Britt.

  “I do. It’s freakish.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Brittany thoughtfully. “In fact, if I could go back in time and not sleep with Travis and not sleep with Ben? If Rory could have somehow been my first?” She sighed, her smile small and wistful. “I’d give a lot for that. I’d give a lot for Rory to be my only.”

  Tierney was generally grossed out by the image of one of her brothers in an intimate scenario, but she was too comforted by Brittany’s words to care. “Really?”

  Brittany nodded. “Yeah. Nobody’s ever loved me like Rory.” She held up her hands. “I know that you and Brian aren’t—aren’t, you know, in love.” She shrugged again, folding her hands on her lap. “But…to be with a guy who really cares about you the first time? That’s the best.”

  In love? Even the words sounded ridiculous.

  “We barely know each other!”

  Brittany took a deep breath. “Over Valentine’s Day, the Boston Globe did this really cool article about these four couples who’d all met and married within four weeks of meeting each other and who were still married after forty years. It was called ‘Four and Forty.’ One of the couples met at the wedding of mutual friends. Another met on line at Hardee’s. Another at a water park where they both had summer jobs. And the last when she got a flat tire, and he stopped to help her. And I remember reading it and just thinking to myself, It’s luck. It’s all about luck. It’s about the teeny, tiny everyday choices you make on your journey…like saying yes to a wedding invitation or deciding to grab a hamburger after work or applying for a summer job at a water park or—oh, my God, sometimes it’s not even up to you! The fourth woman drove over a nail on her way to Easter dinner at her sister’s house one town over. And bam! This guy stops to help her and something just…happens!

  “There are seven and a half billion people in this world. Seven and a half billion. Finding that person? Your person? It has so little to do with how you meet them and where you meet them and how long you date. You know I was married before, right? Did you know that Travis and I went to kindergarten together? We did. But our marriage only lasted for three years. Why? Because I wasn’t the right girl for him, and he wasn’t the right guy for me. And you know what? Thank God! Because he was part of the journey that led here. To Rory. And Tierney? Bam! Rory’s it. He’s the love of my life. He’s the one I never knew I was waiting for.”

  Tierney stared at Brittany, loving her confidence and faith, and weighing it against her own notions about the world and luck and fate and love. And she found that despite any fears she had about opening her heart—and body—to love, they were mitigated by her growing feelings for Burr, which overshadowed everything, which, despite their short acquaintance, couldn’t be denied.

  “You girls ready to go?”

  Rory’s voice jolted Tierney and Brittany from their tête-à-tête, and as her friend jumped up to grab Rory’s hand, Tierney shifted on the bench and looked straight up…into the light-blue eyes of Burr O’Leary.

  And…BAM!

  She felt it everywhere—that breathtaking, heart-squeezing, full-body feeling that he was the missing puzzle piece of her. And she had a sudden and overwhelming notion that spending a day—any day—without seeing his face would be the saddest day she could ever imagine.

  She didn’t know what this feeling was; a week ago, she would have said that love at first sight was a myth—a ridiculous myth. But now? Looking into Burr O’Leary’s beautiful eyes? She wasn’t sure of anything except that forty years from now, she still wanted to feel like this.

  “I’m starving,” he said, stopping in front of Tierney and running his knuckles gently against her cheek as he searched her eyes.

  “Me too.”

  “You ready, aisling?” he asked, grinning down at her.

  I’m getting there. Fast.

  She nodded at him, feeling her smile break out across her face as she looked into his beautiful blue eyes. “I’m ready.”

  ***

  The Mug was the sort of local pub-style restaurant where Burr felt most comfortable. Cold beer. Good burgers. A couple of pool tables in the back. And the owners obviously knew Rory and Tierney, whom they greeted by name, asking about Ian and their parents before seating them at a table by the windows.

  Ian had declined their invitation to dinner, heading back to Summerhaven to manage the final-night dinner/dance for the single parents’ week. Because Ian wasn’t in attendance, Rory had ordered two pitchers of cold Sam Adams Summer for the table. After he poured the four glasses, Burr slid his own glass closer and sat back, watching as Rory lifted his beer and intoned:

  “Seo sláinte an tséitéara, an ghadaí, an trodaí, agus an óltóra!

  Má dhéanann tu séitéireacht, go ndéana tú séitéireacht ar an mbás,

  Má ghoideann tú, go ngoide tú croí mná;

  Má throideann tú, go dtroide tú i leith do bhráthar,

  Agus má ólann tú, go n-óla tú liom féin.”

  Tierney and Burr lifted their glasses with a murmur of “Sláinte,” about to clink and dink, when Brittany stopped them.

  “Wait!”

  All eyes slid to Rory’s girlfriend, who looked exasperated. “Sorry to be the odd one out here, but I have no idea what Rory just said!”

  Burr chuckled softly. “It was all good. I promise.”

  “I want to know,” insisted Brittany. “Translation, please!”

  “If you cheat,” said Rory, his eyes tender as he regarded his girlfriend, “may you cheat death.”

  “If you steal,” said Burr, grinning at Tierney, “may you steal a woman’s heart.”

  “If you fight,” said Tierney, sliding her eyes to Rory, “may you fight for a brother.”

  “And if you drink,” said Rory, turning to Brittany with a look of complete devotion, “may you always drink with me.”

  “Now let’s drink. Sláinte,” said Brittany softly, a smile on her lips as she clinked her glass with Rory’s and raised it to her mouth.

  Burr took a sip of the cold beer, humming a satisfied “Mmmm” before placing the glass back down on the table. Rory leaned forward to give Brittany a quick kiss on the lips before they turned back to Burr and Tierney.

  “So…how long have you two been together?” Burr asked them.

  Brittany smiled. “Since May.”

  “Memorial Day to be exact,” said Rory, winking at Brittany before turning back to Burr.

  He would have guessed longer—they looked so damned happy together. “Only three months.”

  “Yeah,” said Rory, “but we knew each other when we were teenagers. Brittany went to Summerhaven as a camper.”

  “…and basically tortured him all summer because he wasn’t allowed to date her,” added Tierney from beside him.

  “I wonder what that’s like,” Burr deadpanned, giving her a look. “To be tortured by a woman.”

  Her cheeks flushed as she turned back to her brother and Brittany, quickly changing the subject and asking Rory what group was arriving tomorrow for the final week of the summer.

  Part of Burr felt like he’d struck a deal with the devil last night, agreeing to—to—hell, what exactly had they agreed to, anyway?

  To live together while he protected her from any possible New Killeen threat.

  To mutually want each other on a near-painful level while denying themselves.

  Only to act on that longing when Sean Shanahan was behind bars.

  As if my life wasn’t messy and sucky enough, he thought, taking another sip of beer. Now we can add extreme sexual frustration into the equation as well.

  Tierney shifted a little closer to him on the bench they shared until her hip grazed his, and he inhaled sharply at the contact. This woman. Damn, but keeping his hands to himself was proving impossible. At the ice rink, he’d rammed into her to stop her fibbing-diarrhea, but he couldn’t deny the benefits of his quick thinking. Even through layers of hockey gear, she’d felt perfect against him. And later, in the lobby, when she’d looked up at him like he was a god come to life? Yeah. He couldn’t resist reaching out to touch her cheek. But if he kept it up—these little touches—it would be a slippery slope.

  Self-control, boyo. Self-control.

  Hopefully, the next time he called Donnelley, Sean would already be in custody.

  The waitress arrived with a huge plate of nachos and took their dinner orders just as his stomach let out a bellow. It had been a while since he’d played hockey, but knowing that Tierney was watching meant that he’d pulled out all the stops and skated his damned heart out. And now he was beyond hungry.

  “So Brian,” said Brittany, sliding a gooey clump of cheesy chips to her plate, “I guess you’ll still be here for Labor Day weekend, huh?”

  He nodded as he wolfed down some chips and chased them with beer.

  “Are you coming to the party at Summerhaven?” asked Brittany.

  He shifted inquiring eyes to Tierney. What is it, and are we going?

  Tierney wiped her mouth before speaking. “It’s one of two annual parties that Rory hosts at the camp. One at Memorial Day and another at Labor Day. He opens up the campground to all of the local towns. There are games for kids, boating, swimming—”

  “Are you going swimming?” he interrupted, remembering how she looked last night in that dress with the plunging neck.

  She chuckled. “Probably. Do you swim?”

  He reached for more nachos. Whether or not he swam was completely irrelevant. All that mattered was seeing her in a bathing suit. “Yeah.”

  “It’s a really fun day,” she added, her eyes sparkling.

  “There are fireworks too,” said Brittany, sliding a suggestive smile to Rory.

  “And a barn dance,” he added, his voice gravelly.

  Tierney made a gagging noise. “My food’s gonna come up if you two don’t give it a rest.”

  Burr laughed looking back and forth between Rory and Brittany. “Need a room much?”

  “Yeah,” said Rory at the same time Brittany said, “No!”

  Deciding that maybe her brother and his girlfriend needed a little alone time, Burr nudged Tierney. “Any chance you play pool?”

  “Pool?” she asked, her lips twitching. “Um, yeah. I may have played once or twice.”

  “Table over there’s free.” When she didn’t answer right away, he nudged her again. “Come on. I can give you pointers if you need…”

  “Yeah, Tierney,” said Rory, looking at his sister with a grin that somehow managed to border on sinister. “He can give you some pointers.”

  Burr’s glance rested on Rory for an extra second, wondering what he meant by that, but Tierney sliding off the bench beside him distracted him.

  “Have fun,” said Rory in a singsong voice, waggling his fingers at Burr before turning back to his girlfriend.

  Over at the pool table, Tierney was racking the balls with precision. When she was finished, she stood staring at the pool cues like they weren’t all crappy restaurant sticks that had seen better days.

  “You playing, Tierney?” asked an older gentleman at an adjacent table.

  She nodded, winking at him. “Sure am, Bobby.”

  Bobby looked at Burr, stroking his gray beard. “You ever played her before?”

  Burr glanced at little Tierney, who’d finally chosen a cue and was chalking the tip like her life depended on it.

  “Uh…no.” What in the world am I missing?

  “Heh heh,” cackled the old timer, turning to his buddies. “He ain’t never played Tierney Haven before.”

  “Is that l’il Tierney Haven?” asked one of the other two men at the table. “Well, hell. Lookit you. How’s your folks doing?”

  Tierney turned to them, smiling at the men like she’d known them all her life. “Real good. How’s Norma doing?”

  “She’s down in Portsmouth with the grandchildren this weekend.”

  “Give her my best?” asked Tierney.

  “Will do!”

  “Who, eh, who you playing against here, Tierney?” asked Bobby, flicking a derisive look at Burr.

  “This is Brian,” she said, offering him a sheepish grin before looking back at the three older men. “He’s visiting.”

  “Brian, huh?” Bobby nodded at him. “What do you do there, Brian?”

  “Security,” he said, absently grabbing one of the pool cues that Tierney had passed over. “Up here for a couple of weeks giving Tierney a hand.”

  “Huh.”

  How he managed to say, “Not impressed,” in one mumbled syllable was a feat, thought Burr.

  “He beat Ian on the ice today down in Gilford,” said Tierney, hands on her hips, giving the old codgers a look that said, “Back off.”

  “That right?” Bobby lifted his chin, nodding in appreciation. “Guess you’re not all useless, then. Ian’s good on skates.”

  “But Brian’s slap shot was wicked,” said Tierney, lining up the cue ball. She turned to Burr. “You want to break? Or should I?”

  Hmm. She’d racked the balls, chosen her cue, and chalked it. Now she stood at the head of the table, hip cocked and eyes waiting. Between her brother’s eat-shit smile and these old fellas giving him a hard time? Maybe Tierney wasn’t some billiards babe in the woods.

  “Go for it,” he said.

  She grinned at him. “Have any tips for me?”

  He could kick himself for suggesting she needed any. “Nope. None I can think of.”

  She chuckled softly, lining up her shot before smacking the cue ball in an almost-perfect break shot that sent the striped-yellow 9 and the striped-blue 10 into the side pockets simultaneously.

  “Oh,” she said, looking up with a wide smile. “Did you want to play stripes and solids or…?”

  “Yeah,” he said, stepping up to the table. “That’s fine.”

  She lined up her next shot, sending the striped-red 15 ball into the left corner. Chalking her cue, she stared at the table for a second before sitting on the edge with her cue behind her back. As she looked up at Burr with a cheeky grin, the cue tip hit the white ball perfectly and the striped-green 14 ball rolled into the right corner.

  “Now you’re just showing off,” he said, amused by her antics.

  This was a side of Tierney he hadn’t seen yet—all confident and teasing—and he had to admit, it was pretty fucking sexy to see a woman who knew her way around a pool table like she did. Petite little beauty knocking balls into pockets like she was born to do it. Damn. Badass and tempting all at once.