What Love Can Do: O’Neill Brothers (Home to Green Valley Book 1)

Fourteen

She shouldn’t have said anything.

She’d dumped too much on him at once. Now he went and disappeared, and who knew where he was going? Turning around, Lilly stared down the path in the direction she’d come from and headed back to the Mulligan’s parking lot. However, she didn’t want to leave yet. Maybe if she waited long enough, Quinn would come back and talk to her like a civilized person instead of running away at the first sign of conflict. As it was, he’d pretty much dropped a bomb before running away. Yes, they were on different roads, and yes, neither one had made any kind of leap to get them both on the same one, but they’d only known each other a few days.

Just because they hadn’t declared their love for one another and already decided what to do about it didn’t mean what they did have wasn’t worth working through. It hurt her that Quinn would say that, even as she knew that neither of them knew what they were saying half the time when it came to dealing with their feelings for one another. Just that they felt and felt strongly for one another, and given several complicating external factors, didn’t know what to do about it.

Risking odd looks, she walked to the tavern door, pulled on the handle, and heard the chimes, as she entered the humid warmth of the little pub. Everyone craned their necks to look at her, especially Conor, who gave her a confused glance, and she chose a stool at the end of the bar for some peace and quiet.

Paul shuffled over and wiped the area in front of her. “You okay there?”

“Fine.”

“Don’t sound fine to me. What’ll you be having? On the house.” He nodded.

Lilly registered the kindness in the older man’s face, his tight-lipped grimace that reminded her a bit of her father. “A Guinness, I guess. When in Rome…”

“Excellent choice. One pint of the black stuff, coming right up.” He tapped a spot of air in front of her nose, happy with a job to do, and went off to retrieve her drink.

Lilly sighed, kept her eyes off the corner where Bernie and friends were probably talking shit about her. They’d always been on the snooty side, or maybe, being older, they had always just intimidated the hell out of her.

Maybe Quinn’s walking away was for the best. Maybe it was life’s way of reminding her to stay focused. That bigger and better things awaited her in Miami. She might meet a hot Latino man who would sweep her off her feet and sing Enrique Iglesias songs to her. But it’s Irish boys I’ve always loved, she thought. Their saucy smartass banter—the craic, she thought—and the way Quinn kissed like a love god from Venus and laughed like Danny Boy drunk off his ass.

She felt the air next to her being displaced and turned slightly to see another swoony, beautiful smile directed at her. “Told you I was the better brother.” Con’s bright eyes smiled.

“Hey,” she mustered.

“You okay?”

“I will be. Your brother’s mad at me,” she said, noticing for the first time how Conor kept a close watch on her as she talked. Even after only a few words, he was tuned in and focused on her. A good listener, just like his brother.

“Eh, he’s an idiot. My brothers and I tried leaving him on the doorstep of a sorority house of nymphomaniacs back in Dublin, and even they wouldn’t take him.” He settled into the stool next to her, and Lilly couldn’t help but crack a smile. That makes me worse than the nymphos. Paul returned with her drink. On the other side of the counter, Dara began taking dirty glasses back to the kitchen to load in the dishwasher, giving Lilly a knowing smile.

She let out a calming breath. “That can’t be true,” Lilly said, hugging her Guinness close. “They could have at least kept him around as a muse, if not a love slave.” She smiled sheepishly, thinking of Quinn without his clothes on. His chiseled body. His arms, including those vein-roped forearms she loved gripping.

“Aye, that’s true, but even then…the poor maggot.” Conor signaled Paul for another beer then turned to Lilly again. “Listen, I don’t know what happened outside, and I might joke about you both and all, but the truth is, it’s been nice for me…seeing my older brother with a girl he fancies. You’ve really set him aglow, and I don’t mean since our mam died, I mean for the first time in a long time.”

She noted the sincerity in his solemn cheeks. “Thanks.” She allowed herself a smile. “That really means a lot.”

“It’s true. Quinn is the eldest, so he’s always done the responsible thing, ya know? Rarely have I ever seen him do anything for himself. It’s been a long time. Coming here was for him, spending time with you is for him. Maybe he’s just a little freaked out by it, that’s all, but he’ll come around. He’s not as stupid as he looks.”

Lilly wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. “I guess you’re right. But I screwed up, I think.”

“How so?”

“I said some things about your mom that I didn’t mean. It just didn’t sit right with him.”

He processed this a while, tapping on the bar and nodding. “Ah, feck him. He’ll come around. He really does fancy you. You just can’t mess with an Irish boy’s love for his mammy, that’s all.” Con pulled his beer toward him, tilted it back, and swallowed about half in one swig. “Did he tell you about our grandfather? Our mam’s dad?”

“Just that he stopped speaking to your mom.”

“More than that. We tried calling him before we left Dublin, to let him know that his daughter died. His daughter. And you know what that fuckface said? He didn’t have a daughter named Maggie. Can you believe that shite?”

Lilly stared at Con. She’d always known that Phillips Sr. had a hard edge about him, but she couldn’t imagine someone being so horrible to their own grandson. “Wow, that’s really cruel.”

“Yeah, and yet it didn’t stop my brother from wanting to come here. That’s how much he loved Mam. He wanted to see the town so adamantly.”

And yet, he’d been spending half his time with Lilly. She felt horrible guilt for the things she’d said outside. Horrible for even considering that Maggie had done what she had for love but had done it easily or carelessly. That it hadn’t weighed on her that she’d be hurting others even as she did what had been so obviously right for her.

She wondered if she should mention what she knew about Con’s mother to him, but then decided it wasn’t right. She’d only mentioned it to Quinn because she felt there should be no walls between them, no thorns in their blossoming friendship, but if Quinn wanted to, he could inform his brothers about the liaison between their mother and Lilly’s father.

Con stared nostalgically into his drink. “One of the last things Mam told us was to go and live our dreams. Thing is, none of us—least of all Quinn—knows where to begin. At least, he didn’t until coming here. So give him some time, Lil. He’ll come around.” Con flashed a sad smile at Lilly, bumped shoulders with her. “He’d be an arse not to.”

Then, he went back to watching the game.

He was right, of course. Not about Quinn being an arse, but about him going through a lot right now in the wake of his mother’s death, not exactly the best time to start a new relationship, much less make sense of one. She needed to be patient. Quinn also stood at a crossroad, deciding where to go from here, a feeling Lilly should be empathizing with. Up until a few days ago, she wasn’t sure what to do about her life either. She really couldn’t blame him.

“Thanks, Conor,” she groaned. “But he might not want to talk to me again. In case that’s true, wish him my best, will you, please?” She looked at Conor, trying to recapture Quinn’s face in his brother’s. Recalling that they were only registered at the BB another two days, hot tears rose into her eyes at the thought of never seeing Quinn again. She fought them back with the palms of her hands, and Con laid a quiet hand on her shoulder.

She had no right to cry. Her very own brain had tried to warn her against getting too close to Quinn, but she hadn’t listened out of desperation to connect with him, to find happiness for one, fleeting moment. The consequences just hadn’t mattered. Lilly wiggled off her stool, strung her purse over her shoulder, and adjusted her scarf, readying it for the cold night.

Conor gave her a small, knowing grin. “You’ll see him again.”

She smiled sadly. “Thanks for the talk.” She poured the rest of her beer into Conor’s half empty glass then twiddled her fingers at Paul. “And thanks for the beer,” she called to Paul and Dara, who was putting away dishes.

“No problem. Say hello to Penny for me,” Paul muttered, toothpick wobbling between his teeth.

“I will.” Lil gave Con one last smile, cast a quick glance at Bernie and friends in the corner, gave them a small wave, then poured out the door. As she turned the corner toward the parking lot, she smelled it before she spotted something on the hood of her car—jasmine. A fresh bunch tied together into a neat bow with a long blade of grass.

Like getting hit with a gentle wave, her heart swelled. Picking up the flowers, she scanned the area for Quinn but he was nowhere to be seen. She entered her car, blooms in hand, and placed them in her lap while she turned on the engine. The whole drive home, Lilly wondered what to do. She understood how much the name Maggie Phillips must grate on her mother’s ears, but what if Quinn were that one man—that one, special someone—who comes into your life, and if you don’t jump at the chance, never comes back again?

Could she risk losing him?

More than once now, he’d indicated he was thinking about settling in Green Valley. He’d even given thought to buying Paul’s pub. Just because she left for Miami didn’t mean he might not decide to do it.

Briefly, she thought of Quinn settling down in Forestville while she was gone in Miami and him hooking up with Bernie or one of her friends. Ugh, no. Even though she had no right to Quinn, she felt possessive. What was so great about Miami anyway? Green Valley was familiar, and she’d be pleasing both her mom and Quinn by staying. Maybe she could open a bake shop here without doing the internship. It was nice knowing she’d been picked—maybe that could be enough for her?

Ugh, but I was picked out of five hundred entries!

No—she knew, in the bottom of her heart, that she couldn’t dishonor her father’s memory, and it was Dad who’d always encouraged her to follow her dreams. But he wasn’t around anymore, and now Mom kept Lilly’s wings tidily clipped. Yet thanks in part to Quinn, Lilly had finally told her mom what she planned to do. So no, she couldn’t pass up the internship in Miami on the chance Quinn might decide to settle here or even want something more from her. She could, however, honor what they’d come to mean to one another in the here and now, and if given the opportunity to do so, stand up for him. It was only right. After all, he was a stranger in a strange land, one who’d come to her for friendship. If she didn’t stand up for him when it counted, then what kind of friend was she?

Clearly, he still cared, or else he wouldn’t have come back and left her the flowers.

She had to do something.

Driving home, not wanting to get there too quickly and face her mom again, Lilly chose the gentle curving side roads toward the BB, noticing perhaps for the first time in forever, the sign for Phillips Vineyard Winery perched at the next intersection. She could hardly believe the story of Richard Phillips, Sr., if it was true. Of course it was true! Con had no reason to lie, and she had to stop mistrusting what the O’Neill boys said.

Suddenly, she slowed down and knew just what to do.