Excerpt from Chapter 4
Patrick Garahan was trying not to step on the twin forces of destruction currently whooping like wild men while they chased after the soccer ball he was dribbling across the grass. It was hard because they were quick and coordinated. He didn’t remember his sisters’ kids being this good at soccer at the same age. But it had been awhile since he’d been home, and maybe he was thinking of his nieces and nephews when they were younger than the two pistols hooting and hollering as they grabbed his left leg and took him down.
Before he hit the ground, he spun and plucked the two of them off his leg and curled himself around the boys to protect them. “Can we do it again, Unca Pat?”
He was a sucker for a cute kid. His two honorary nephews were hard to ignore—and pretty damned special too. He saw more of them than he did any of his sisters’ kids back in New York. For a moment, little Michael’s face filled his mind then morphed into the face of the little boy he hadn’t been able to save—the one who was his nephew Michael’s age—as the image from his nightmare bubbled dangerously close to the surface.
Danny dug his knees into Patrick’s stomach as he crawled toward his chest. Joey wasn’t one to be left out, so he scrambled to his feet next to his brother. Shoving those thoughts deep, Pat made a grab for the boys—they were heavier than they looked. But they were fast and each gave a rebel yell that would have made his cousin Tyler proud as they leaped off his chest, tucking and rolling as they hit the ground.
“Ompfh,” he groaned as their tiny sneakers pushed off. “Uncle!” he hollered, making his friend Dan Eagan laugh.
“You can’t say I didn’t warn you, Garahan,” Dan told him. “Besides, you know they’ve been asking for you for a couple of weeks now.”
Pat leaned on one elbow and watched as the two chased each other across the Mulcahys’ backyard, tumbling into one another like puppies. “Did you ever imagine that you’d be a dad?”
Dan’s gaze moved toward the petite, auburn-haired pixie woman he’d married.
Watching his friend, Pat chuckled. “Earth to Dan!”
“Hmmm? What?” Dan blinked and had to ask him to repeat the question.
“You seem to fit life here in Apple Grove like you were born here.”
Dan agreed. “It was like coming home, you know?”
Pat did and told him so. “When I left Brooklyn, I didn’t think I’d be staying. I just needed to get away”—and for the nightmares to stop— “but it grows on you. Everything just clicked and my life seemed…”
“Seemed what?” Dan asked.
Pat couldn’t speak, couldn’t think—he could only stare at the goddess standing in the sunlight on the Mulcahys’ back porch. Her hair was clipped short, brushing against the line of her jaw, but it was the way the woman filled out her T-shirt and jeans that kicked him in the gut. “Is she real?”
Dan looked over at the woman and back and shrugged. “Last time I checked, why?”
Pat swallowed his spit before he drooled. She had killer curves. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
Dan’s laughter had the curvaceous, strawberry-haired goddess glancing in their direction. She pressed her lips to the top of Dan and Meg’s daughter’s head and helped baby Deidre wave at them. “Whatever you want, Eagan, it’s yours, but you’ve got to introduce me.”
Dan turned and stared at Patrick as if his friend had lost his mind. “Introduce you,” Dan said slowly then nodded toward the woman. “To her?”
Pat ran his fingers through his hair, hoping there weren’t any leaves or sticks in it. “Yeah. Is that a problem?”
Dan cleared his throat and his amused expression changed to one of concern. “Yeah.”
Pat felt like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. “Come on, man,” he pleaded. “I’ll owe you.”
Dan looked from Pat to the woman cooing at the baby in her arms. “Okay.”
Pat felt relief flow through him. Just then the goddess looked at Patrick and tilted her head to one side as if wondering what he and Dan were discussing.
Dan said. “Come on.”
They walked across the grass, around the big old oak, and over to the bottom of the steps, where Meg was speaking to his mystery woman.
“Whoa, Meg! You cut your hair?” This was the first time he’d seen her without her signature braid hanging down past her waistband.
“It was for a good cause.” Meg turned and reached out to brush the ends of the other woman’s hair. There was something familiar about her…
“I, uh—” The woman turned and her gaze connected with Pat’s. The air sizzled between them, short-circuiting his brain.
“Patrick Garahan,” Dan began, “I’d like you to meet my sister-in-law Grace Mulcahy.”
Pat’s held hand out. “Grace?” His voice cracked and Dan coughed to cover the fact that he was laughing at his friend.
“Hi, Patrick.” Grace’s voice was soft and soothing. “It’s been awhile.”
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