Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Sunday dinner at the O’Hara farmhouse unfolded like a weekly sacrament, complete with its own liturgy of laughter, the passing of dishes like offerings, and Anne O’Hara’s pot roast serving as communion—tender enough to convert even the most devoted vegetarian.
The farmhouse itself seemed to breathe with contentment, its bones settling into familiar rhythms as five brothers, their wives, and various offspring created the kind of chaos that sounded like home.
Aidan pushed his mashed potatoes around his plate, building and destroying mountain ranges with the distraction of a man whose mind was elsewhere entirely.
Two days. Two days since he’d watched Dylan leave for lunch on Friday with that overdressed stranger from Seattle.
Two days of the town gossips working overtime, speculation running wild about Dylan Flanagan’s mysterious lunch companion.
“You planning to eat those potatoes or just torture them?” Duncan asked from across the table, his artist’s eye noting every tell in his brother’s posture.
“Leave him alone,” Sophie said, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. “He’s been in a mood since Friday. Ever since Dylan had lunch with that well-dressed man from Seattle.”
The table went quiet for a heartbeat—the kind of quiet that happened when someone had inadvertently struck gold in the conversational mine.
“Well-dressed?” Aidan’s voice came out more growl than question.
“Very,” Raven confirmed with the satisfaction of someone who’d been waiting for this opening.
“Expensive suit, Tesla in the parking lot, looked like he stepped out of a magazine. Rose said they were discussing business, but Dylan was leaning in, really engaged. You know how she usually is with strangers—all walls and distance. But she actually seemed interested in what he had to say.”