11. Getting Our Mojo Back
Sean had never been so spent, so replete. So complete. He’d lost count of how many times they’d made love throughout the night and into the morning. He was glad Troy had left them a large box of condoms, but at this rate, they were going to need more.
And that was the exact opposite of a complaint.
He lay with Branna spooned in front of him, watching the sunrise out the bedroom window. Contentment filled him.
He hadn’t been able to settle since leaving the military. While he loved construction and renovation jobs, nothing had clicked. He hadn’t found a place he fit or people he fit with.
Epic might have been right all along. Which he would never say out loud. Although Sean wasn’t sure he’d been ready to settle earlier. Transitioning from the military to civilian life often took a toll on soldiers, and he’d been no different.
They’d all been assigned therapists during the check-out process, and Sean had kept in contact with his. The monthly check-ins with Dr. Elder had helped more than he’d expected. The man would be happy to know Sean figured he’d found his place.
He’d also be thrilled that Sean had opened up enough emotionally to fall in love. Because he was totally in love with the woman in his arms.
He could see them waking up in this bed and watching the sunrise, then making slow and sleepy love when they were eighty.
As if she’d heard his thoughts, Branna squirmed backward into him with a small sleepy hum. His hand tightened on her soft breast, and her lips curved into a smile.
But she had to be sore after the night they’d had, and he could control himself.
Probably.
Jabba barked on the other side of the door, deciding for him. He kissed her shoulder and whispered, “Go back to sleep. I’m going to take Jabba outside.”
She murmured something and burrowed into her pillow. Sean grinned and slipped out of the bed. He grabbed some clothes and moved into the hallway to get dressed.
Jabba sat, head tilted to the side. He patted his head. “Sorry, bud, we’re going to let our lady get some sleep.”
He let Jabba out the back door and watched him play, but he didn’t move off the porch. He wanted to be close in case Branna woke with another nightmare.
When the dog was tired out, they moved back into the kitchen and Sean went through the fridge and cupboards, getting a feel for the food available. He decided to make a frittata and some biscuits for the morning.
His mom’s recipes. He had so many good memories of learning to cook with her. A typical Italian mama who loved her family, loved to cook, and loved nothing better than to combine them both.
Margaretta Falcone would be pleased that he not only remembered her recipes but that he was cooking them for the woman he loved.
He could imagine her face lighting up when he told her he’d fallen for Branna O’Dea. His mom and Siobhan O’Dea would have been giddy. Achille and Seamus, too. They’d have toasted them with pints of Guinness.
“What’s got you smiling this morning?”
Sean grinned at Branna, who was smiling back at him. “Probably the same thing that has you smiling.” His hands were in the biscuit dough, so he waited for her to come over to kiss him. “Morning.”
She kissed him again. “Good morning. What are you making? Wait. Is that your mom’s frittata I smell cooking?”
He grinned. “Sure is. Almost time to pop in the biscuits to go with it.”
She leaned against the counter. “I’d forgotten you could cook. Margaretta was the best at teaching. We’ll have to make her lasagna one day.”
So many good memories. “I’d like that. They’ve stocked the kitchen pretty well, but I don’t know if they’ll have Mom approved stuff. We’ll have to check. How are you feeling this morning?”
Branna laughed. “Spectacular. You?”
“Right there with you. But I meant your ankle and emotionally. It’s been a rough couple of days.” He’d thought about not bringing it up, but then it became the cliché of the elephant in the room. “My therapist says it’s better to keep talking about things so we don’t bottle it up until we explode. That okay?”
She nodded. “Sounds like a smart therapist. I’m feeling okay. Much better after talking to Marcus and the FBI agents last night.”
“Me too. Glad to have them on the case.”
Another nod. “I feel kind of weird, though. Like I should do something to solve the case or find Prince. Anything. This whole thing revolves around me, but I don’t have an active part in it for now.”
“I never thought of it like that. You’re right. It is a little weird. I’m hoping someone picks him up soon. We haven’t really talked about options. We just followed the next step. I know I pushed you to come with me here to Vermont. How are you feeling about being here?”
Branna filled the sink with water to help clean up. He hoped she was gathering her thoughts and not avoiding the topic. Or not trying to figure out how to spare his feelings.
When she spoke, he heard the smile in her voice, and his shoulders relaxed. “It’s been a whirlwind few days. Or week. Or weeks. Honestly, I don’t even know what day it is.”
Huh. Neither did he.
She took the dirty dishes from his hands. “I have a lot of feelings rumbling around inside. Some good, some bad. I’m shattered about my dad’s death. Knowing he was targeted and killed is awful. I feel like those feelings might swallow me whole sometimes.”
He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist while she washed.
“I’m more angry than I’ve ever been. My dad should be alive and building you a Guinness. I’m grateful that you dropped everything to help me.”
He kissed the top of her head.
“I think part of me is numb with all that’s happened. But I’m also happy. Happier than I have a right to be.”
She finished the last dish and rinsed her hands. He passed her a tea towel to dry them. She did and then leaned on the sink, looking out the window. “I’m happy I’m with you. I’m happy we’re together like I always dreamed we might be. I haven’t seen much of Vermont yet, but this house is amazing, your friends are incredible, and it feels good to be here with you.” She blew out a breath. “And I’m also feeling guilty about being so happy.”
He hadn’t expected such a long and complex answer. He should have known better. Branna was nothing if not honest.
He turned her slowly to face him. “I’m happy too, Branna. With you and about being here with you. I’m devastated about your dad and what the asshole did to you both.”
She smiled softly at him with shining eyes.
He kissed her forehead and pulled her in for a hug. “I think your dad would be glad you’re finding pockets of happy. He wouldn’t want you afraid and devastated all the time. Your dad was all about accepting reality and celebrating when you could.”
She laughed. “That’s such a good way to describe him. He’d be happy for us, too.”
Sean nodded. “He would. They all would.”
The timer beeped, and he pulled back. “How about we eat and then find some more ways to be happy?”
* * *
It surprised Branna to discover she had strong opinions about how to renovate the farmhouse. Sean had brought in a giant toolbox from the back of his SUV. Then he’d pulled out a tablet with a floor plan program and had quickly drawn out the building.
His skill with the program had been surprisingly sexy. She couldn’t wait to see him strap on his tool belt.
Sexiest of all was the way he understood the building. He could see beyond the obvious and explain how he could improve the home without removing all the charm of the original space.
When she suggested opening a wall, he grinned but didn’t laugh at her. Then he showed her how it was a supporting wall and easily came up with several options for opening up the space. “You’d be an excellent teacher.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “You know a lot about it, but you don’t make me feel stupid. And the way you explain things makes it easy to understand.”
“Hmm. Can’t say I ever thought about it, but that might be fun in a one day kind of thing.”
“Are you going to do the renovations you’re imagining here?”
“As long as you want to stay here. If you need to go elsewhere once the asshole is in jail, we can do that, too. I can pick up work anywhere.”
Branna’s heart thumped hard, almost hard enough to hear. She wasn’t the only one imagining a future. Was he thinking of a long-term future as well? It was way too early in the relationship to say that kind of thing out loud, so she grinned and reached up to kiss him lightly. “Thanks, but for now, Phail is a good place to stay.”
She wrinkled her nose, and he laughed. “I can’t figure out why Epic won’t push to change the name. It’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe because it’s ridiculous?”
“Probably. They do have fun with it.”
Branna nodded. “I’m getting used to it. Do you think they have a hardware store where you can pick up whatever you need to start working on the farmhouse?”
“I doubt it, but I’m sure we can order stuff from wherever is nearby.”
“Where do we start?”
He grinned at her. “You’re going to help?”
“Absolutely. I don’t enjoy sitting around with nothing to do. Between doing the books, scheduling staff, ordering supplies, and working the pub, I’m used to being busy.” Waves of sadness pressed in on her at the words. She’d never be back in her pub again. There was no way she could go back to Miami to all those memories. Not with Prince and his herd patrolling the streets, killing those who didn’t want to pay their extortion.
Sean’s arms wrapped around her. “It’s okay to be sad, Branna. Don’t hold it in or pretend it’s not there.”
She leaned into him. “Thanks. I loved that pub. My childhood memories are wrapped up in learning to run the business. All the ins and outs of bookkeeping, ordering, and staffing. Serving and cooking. I learned so much math from my mom that it was always an easy subject for me at school. I remember being amazed that other kids didn’t know how to apply discounts to bulk orders.”
His chuckle warmed her. “If you’re good at math, you’ll be more help than I thought.”
“Hey.” She poked his chest while she straightened. She knew he was teasing to help lighten the mood, but he would be surprised. She’d helped with the repairs and upgrades to the pub, so she knew her way around a toolbox.
“The wiring and plumbing were all updated when the previous owner tried to sell, so we don’t have to worry about that. We can work on one room at a time if you like. Where do you want to start?”
She looked back at his plans. “What do you think about starting with the other big bedroom upstairs? It’s got an attached bath as well. We could do both of those at the same time?”
He nodded. “Good idea. We’ll have to look at colors and finishings. No sense in having the house become a patchwork of different styles. The hallways should be the same up and down, with the rooms in colors that coordinate. They don’t have to be all the same if you don’t want, but sometimes that look pulls everything together.”
It was her turn to poke fun. “Looks like you’ll be more help with the decor than I thought.”
Laughing, Sean shook his head. “Like I said, smart.”
For the next few hours, they wandered the space with his tablet, debating styles and colors for everything from floors to walls to bathroom fixtures. Branna wasn’t sure the last time she’d had this much fun. “Are you sure we shouldn’t ask Troy for his input? It’s his house, after all.”
Sean shrugged. “He told me he wanted me to renovate, so I’m renovating. If he wanted input, he should have said. And there’s no way his ideas would be nearly as good as ours.”
It was going to be spectacular. Warm and homey. Cozy and friendly. Exactly like she’d want her own home one day.
“Have you thought any more about what Troy said about the Saloon here in town?”
She had. A lot. “I don’t think he was serious. He doesn’t even know me. And he didn’t say much at all, really.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “I thought he was very serious. He runs a general store and works with the Midnight Security team at Midnight Lake. I think he wants the Saloon to be a reality, but it’s way outside his lane, and he doesn’t have any time to deal with it. We’ll have a look at it when it’s safe to go into town and see what you think. We don’t have to decide anything quickly. There’s lots of time.”
Branna’s heart filled with warmth. He’d used we as if he believed they’d be together long-term. Exactly as she hoped.
Could she stay in Vermont and run a pub? Did she want to? At the moment, that was a resounding Yes, but she didn’t want to make any decisions until they had Prince in jail.
Then she’d see if a pioneer saloon was a good place for an Irish pub.