As Tierney set the picnic table, Burr mucked out the charcoal grill in Tierney’s backyard, then refilled it, squirting a little lighter fluid over the black briquettes before lighting them. They’d be grayish-orange by the time her brothers and Brittany arrived in thirty minutes, hungry for hamburgers and hot dogs.

When they’d gotten back from the grocery store, Burr had carried the bags inside for her before taking his duffel bag back upstairs to the guest room. She couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through her when he returned downstairs barefooted a few minutes later.

You’re staying. You’re staying. You’re staying.

The words circled around her head, finally followed by these:

I have a chance.

But at what?

At making him like her? He already seemed to like her. He’d kissed her earlier today and touched her hair so tenderly when they were in the car. He’d pledged to keep her safe and told her he liked the way she wore her ring, heart-out. Those were all signs of…of…something, right?

These were the moments when Tierney wished she had more real-life experience or one good girlfriend with whom to discuss matters of the heart. Because honestly, her natural instincts weren’t the sharpest where men were concerned. She hadn’t had enough experiences to hone them.

Playing devil’s advocate with herself, she countered that his kiss earlier today wasn’t romantic, but merely a way to bid her farewell.

Similarly, touching her hair was a just a distracted, tactile gesture that meant nothing on an emotional level.

Keeping her safe was his job, not a personal mission.

And saying he liked the way she wore her ring could just be a reference to their shared heritage.

It could all mean something.

Or it could all mean nothing.

And she was much less likely to get herself hurt if she believed the latter.

Nothing it is.

He was grateful to her, as he’d carefully articulated, but protecting her probably had more to do with making up for what had happened to his sister. He was a policeman. He didn’t want to see anyone else hurt.

No doubt he wanted a friendship with her and nothing more.

The wave of disappointment she felt made her chest tighten uncomfortably. The role of friend will be played by…Tierney Haven! Again! Except, when she looked at Burr, whom she’d placed without any ambiguity in the “temptation” bucket, she didn’t feel or want mere friendship. Aside from having an intense physical attraction to him, she was quickly growing to genuinely like him. By all accounts, they were going to spend the next couple of weeks together. Could she accept friendship if that’s all he was able or willing to offer her? Would she?

“I just realized…” he said, pouring ice over the beverages in the cooler, “you don’t have any alcoholic beer in here.”

She looked over at him from where she stood, setting the table. “No. My brother Ian is in recovery.”

He was squatting by the cooler, but he looked up at her, impressed. “Wow. You’re really supportive.”

“Of his sobriety? Of course.”

“How long has he been on the wagon?”

“Four months and change.”

“Not long,” said Burr, standing up to take the empty ice bag to the garbage can near the garage.

There was something about this tall, lean, muscular man standing in his bare feet on her bright-green grass that just about made Tierney moan with pleasure. The grass would be soft and cool this late in the day, and suddenly she longed to feel it too. She placed the last of the forks she held beside a waiting plate, then sat down on the picnic bench, reaching to unlace her white tennis sneakers. She set them side by side under the bench, then took off her socks, revealing feet so white, they were almost light blue. She tucked the socks neatly in her shoes, then stood up, letting the blades of grass sluice between her toes, wiggling them against the soft green.

“I haven’t been barefoot in ages,” she said, reveling in the almost-forgotten sensations against her skin.

He grinned at her. “Me neither. But I couldn’t resist. Summer’s a time for being barefoot, isn’t it? I don’t think Suzy and I ever wore shoes from Memorial Day to Labor Day.”

His reference to his sister jogged her memory, and she remembered a question she had for him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Before, in the car, you said that you haven’t spoken to your sister in three years.”

His grin faded fast, and he nodded, stepping over to the graying coals and checking on them.

“But you seem really close to her,” continued Tierney. “You talk about her. You love her. That’s obvious.”

“She’s my sister,” said Burr softly, pushing the briquettes around for a moment before looking up at her with troubled eyes. “Of course I love her.”

“That’s why I don’t understand.”

He sighed, keeping his gaze trained on the grill. “My captain thought it would be more believable for me to leave the department in disgrace before hooking up with the New Killeens. They staged a drug bust. Found enough cocaine in my car to put me away for years. But instead of an arrest, presumably to save the department from embarrassment, they ‘let me go’ dishonorably. The story I fed the Shanahans was that I felt betrayed by the BPD and wanted revenge.” He shrugged. “They bought it.”

She glanced at the table, set for family dinner with her brothers, then slid her eyes back to Burr. “So…oh, God…so, you haven’t seen or spoken to your family in—in three years?”

The idea was utterly obscene to Tierney, who saw her brothers twice a week, visited her parents once a month, and talked to all of them once a day or more.

His face was tight. His eyes sad. “Cost of the job.”

“Big price to pay,” she said softly, her heart aching for him.

He nodded. “I’ve missed them. My father—well, he pretty much disowned me after the fake bust. He was also in the BPD before retiring. The idea of having a delinquent son was unbearable to him. My mother stopped talking to me. Suzy tried to reach out, but I didn’t return her calls, and eventually she stopped trying.” He paused. “You know, of all the things I had to do to get in with the Killeens—and there is some dirty fucking shit I’ve seen and done, Tierney—that was the worst part. By far.”

Tierney rounded the table, needing to be closer to him, to offer him comfort if she could. “It was a means to an end.”

“Part of me thought it would be glamorous,” he said, looking into her eyes, his expression stupendously grieved. “What a stupid fucking kid.”

She reached out to him, her fingers landing on his arm. “It’s almost over now. You’ll be able to tell them the truth soon. And they’ll understand, won’t they? They’ll…welcome you home again?”

Suddenly his arms were around her, and she was drawn against the strong, solid wall of his chest. He held onto her, clasping her to him, clinging to her like a life raft in a terrible storm. Caught unawares, she let him hold her, adjusting to the warmth of his surprise embrace.

“I hope so, Tierney,” he murmured near her ear. “God, I hope so.”

Winding her arms around Burr’s waist, she rested her head on his chest and hugged him back, thinking about Rory and Ian and remembering how much it had hurt when Ian was on one of his famous three-month benders and wouldn’t call her back. She couldn’t imagine being out of touch with him for three years. She felt terrible for Suzy, who must still grieve the loss of her brother every day, and terrible for Burr, who was forced to give up his family in order to serve his city.

“You’re a hero,” she whispered. “You’re so brave.”

“I’m not,” he grunted, his voice gravelly with emotion.

“You are,” she insisted, the words slightly muffled against his T-shirt. “You made a tremendous sacrifice for the greater good. That’s the definition of a hero.”

“You don’t know what I’ve seen…what I’ve done…”

“I know that the New Killeens will be under indictment any day now. And that’s because of you. Countless lives saved, Burr, because of you.”

“Tierney,” he sighed, his arms tightening around her as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Where did you come from, aisling?”

His words made goose bumps rise up on her arms, and she leaned into him for warmth. While she usually wore a cardigan sweater at the visitor’s center because the air conditioning was always on, she’d taken it off in the car and only wore a thin, dark-blue tank top over crisp white khaki shorts. She could feel his body everywhere—his chest against hers, his heart under her ear, his hands clasped together on her lower back. And she wished she didn’t love the sensation of being held in his arms, but she did. So much. Too much.

In the not-so-far distance, she heard the sound of car wheels on gravel and Burr’s arms loosened around her. She looked up at him, and the expression on his face was so intense, she half-wondered if he would have kissed her again if her family hadn’t interrupted them.

“I think your brothers are here,” he said softly.

Tierney gulped. “Yeah. I think—um, I’ll be right back.”

She stepped out of his arms, walking around the house to stand in the driveway and wave hello to her family. Her cheeks were probably flushed, but the late-summer sun was still high and strong, so she hoped they wouldn’t be suspicious.

“Hey, Tierney,” said Brittany, her brother Rory’s girlfriend, running over to her with a bouquet of wild flowers and a plate of brownies.

Tierney accepted both, looking at the brownies with cautious interest. “Did you make these?”

Brittany’s skills—or lack thereof—in the kitchen were legendary among the Havens. She’d once tried to make a frozen dinner with the cellophane still on the container.

“I did,” she said, grinning at Tierney, her wavy blonde hair picture-perfect in a black-and-white-gingham hairband, “with Chef Jamie’s help. Don’t worry.”

“Oh! I wasn’t worried!” she said, grateful for the skills of Rory’s head chef.

“Yeah, right,” said Brittany. “I’m never going to live down my first few weeks in Rory’s kitchen, am I?”

Tierney cringed, then shrugged. “Give us a little more time?”

Brittany rolled her eyes with a cheerful giggle, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “What did I hear about some guy staying here with you? Rory’s a mess. I need details!”

“Rory is a mess. And we all need details,” said Rory from behind his girlfriend. He leaned forward to kiss Tierney on the cheek. “Is he here?”

Tierney nodded. “And I’ll thank you not to be a jerk to him.”

“A jerk to who?” asked Ian, slamming the back door, stepping over to the group, and giving his sister a peck on her other cheek.

“Whom,” corrected Tierney. “Bu—uh, Brian. Brian, is my houseguest. I mean, employee. Here. At Moonstone, uh, Manor.”

Rory and Ian shared a look.

“She’s doing the lying thing,” said Rory.

“In spades,” observed Ian. “I told you she was being weird.”

Rory nodded. “Yeah. I can see.”

Brittany turned around, her back to Tierney and her hands on her hips. “No ganging up on Tierney, you two! So what if she has a guy staying here? Good for her, I say!” She backed up, facing the Haven brothers as she put her arm through Tierney’s. “Brian, you said? Let’s go find him. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Great,” said a voice from behind the ladies, “because here I am.”

Tierney looked up at Brittany, watching her pretty brown eyes widen just a touch as she saw Burr over her shoulder. “Oh. You must be…”

“Brian,” said Burr, his voice warm and low.

Brittany extracted her arm from Tierney’s to shake hands. “Hi.”

“Brian,” said Tierney, “this is my brother’s girlfriend, Brittany Manion.”

“Manion like the hotels?” he asked.

“Exactly like the hotels,” said Rory, pushing Brittany’s hand away from Burr’s and taking it into his. “I’m Tierney’s brother, Rory.” His tone was unfriendly. “And you’re Brian from Dartmouth, huh?”

“Actually, I went to UMass,” said Burr, pumping Rory’s hand.

Tierney watched Rory’s face—the tight clench of his jaw, his unsmiling lips and narrowed eyes.

“And this is Ian,” she said. “My other brother.”

Rory dropped Burr’s hand, and Ian took it, his knuckles whitening. She watched as Burr increased his own pressure, until his knuckles were the same color as Ian’s. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Men were so damned stupid.

“My friend John told me you went to Dartmouth,” said Ian.

“I did,” said Burr, his voice level, not unfriendly, but not trying too hard either. He took back his hand from Ian. “I played ice hockey there a few times. Met Tierney one of the weekends I was up there.”

“Huh. I played a little ice hockey myself,” said Ian, taken off guard by this information. Ian had been an all-star in ice hockey at Boston University and coached at the high school level for a few years before his drinking habit had overtaken his life. He put his hands on his hips, sizing up Tierney’s guest. “You say you played for UMass?”

“Yep.”

“What position?” asked Ian.

“Left wing. You?”

“Defense.”

“When did you graduate?” asked Burr.

“Six years ago.”

“Me too. Boston had a great team.”

“So did UMass.” Ian rubbed his beard. “We probably played each other. I bet I slammed you into the boards a couple of times.”

Burr scoffed. “Like you could’ve caught me. You defense guys are ass-draggers.”

“Whoa, son! That sounds like a challenge.”

“You name the rink, I’ll bring the heat,” said Burr.

“Done deal,” said Ian, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Saturday afternoon. Four thirty. Gilford Arena. You and me.”

“I’ll be there,” said Burr. “Care to make it interesting?”

“Damnú,” growled Ian, nodding appreciatively at Burr before glancing at Tierney. “Yer man here’s got a death wish.”

“Téigh dtí diabhail, a thóin mór,” said Burr. Fuck off, fat ass.

“Jaysus, he speaks t’ Oirish like a feckin’ native,” said Ian with a heavy accent, blinking at Burr in surprise.

“Limerick,” offered Burr.

“Killarney,” said Ian.

“Fifty bucks on Ian,” said Rory, stepping forward. “And I’ll referee.”

“Oh, that’ll be fair,” deadpanned Burr, looking back and forth between the brothers.

“I’ll make sure it’s fair,” said Brittany, slipping Rory’s arm around her shoulders. “Now let’s put our genitals away, boys. Tierney’s making dinner.”

As the three men and Brittany made their way around the house to the backyard, Tierney sighed in relief. Well, that went…okay. For now.

Talk turned to college days and sports at the grill, and unsurprisingly, the Haven boys and Burr got along pretty well, all things considered. Or they did until Rory started getting all protective again. As Tierney handed Burr a plate of raw hamburgers to place on the grill, Rory asked, “What did Tierney mean about you being an employee here?”

“There were some poachers here last weekend,” said Burr. “I’ve been hired as security.”

“Don’t you have a real job?” asked Ian, his tone only half joking.

“I was between things,” said Burr.

“What does that mean?” asked Rory.

“Rory,” said Tierney. “Let it be, huh?”

Burr took his time placing the burgers on the grill, then closed the lid, looking squarely at Rory. “Why don’t you trust your sister?”

“I—I trust her. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tierney’s wicked smart,” said Burr, glancing at her and making her warm all over. “She’s thoughtful too. Mature. Sensible. Brave. She’s not some dopey kid who doesn’t know her ass from her elbow. How come you’re giving her such a hard time about me being here?”

“I’m not,” said Rory, hands on his hips, lips thin with anger. “In fact, I’m not talking to her at all. It’s you I’m talking to. You met Tier up at Dartmouth. How’d you reconnect?”

Tierney just about had enough. “For fuck’s sake, Rory. On Facebook.”

Rory kept his gaze trained on Burr. “How long are you staying?”

Burr took a deep breath, which broadened his chest. “As long as Tierney needs me.”

“And how long’ll that be?” Rory asked his sister.

“’Til the end of the season,” she said, taking a step closer to Burr.

“Staying where?” demanded Rory.

She glanced up at the guest room window, then slid her narrowed eyes to Rory. “Here.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” growled Rory. “You met him years ago when he played hockey one weekend. You don’t even know him.”

That was it.

She snapped.

She grabbed the spatula from the hook on the grill, took a step forward, drew it back, and slapped Rory on the ass with all her might. He yelped, covering his ass with his hand and looking at her in shock. “God damn it, Tierney, I’m only trying to—”

“He’s staying because I say he’s staying,” she yelled, raising the spatula again as Rory backed up in retreat. “And he’s staying in the empty bedroom owned by the Gish Trust that’s located down the hallway from mine because he’s an employee here. Unless you plan to buy this estate from the state of New Hampshire and change the rules to fit some antiquated ideas you have about my goddamn virtue, boyo, then you are out of luck. This cottage is not under your purview, Rory Kavanagh Haven, and for that matter…nor is his bed, nor is mine. Yes. It’s none of your damned business. An dtuigeann tú?”

Rory stared at her, his mouth gaping, one hand still resting on his smacked buttocks.

“Do you understand?” she repeated in English, wielding the spatula with as much fury as her mother used to wield the spoon.

“Fine,” said Rory, glaring at Burr for a moment, before nodding once at his sister and muttering, “Go dtachta an diabhal tu.” The devil take you then.

As Rory walked away, toward the woods behind Tierney’s cottage, she threw the spatula on the ground and stalked into the house, her eyes burning with tears. How dare her brother act that way? How dare he embarrass her like that?

Resting her hands on the sink, she took several deep breaths, then splashed her face with cool water and dried it with a paper towel.

“You like him.”

Tierney turned to find Brittany standing behind her.

“What? Who?”

“Brian. Your…houseguest.”

“I like him. Yeah,” said Tierney, sniffling softly. “What’s not to like?”

“He’s good looking,” said Brittany, “and nice.”

Tierney scoffed. “I’m not stupid enough to fall for him. Why would I break my own heart?”

Brittany took the paper towel from Tierney’s hands and gently dried her face. “Break your heart? Nah. He likes you too.”

“Unlikely.”

Girls like Brittany, who were wanted by every man who ever set eyes on them, didn’t understand what it was like to be Tierney, the girl most likely to be cast as the best friend.

Brittany grinned. “The only thing standing between Rory’s face and Brian’s fist was you.”

Tierney gulped, still furious with her brother. “Rory had no right to act like that. I’ve always been the good one, the quiet one, the responsible one. He has no right to treat me like a child!”

“He loves you,” said Brittany gently. “And you’re right. You’ve always been good and quiet, strong and sweet, shy and solitary Tierney. Having some guy here? Staying here? This is new for Rory and Ian. You don’t generally have men coming and going. And now…well, now you do. Coming, I mean, not going. Oh! Not…not coming. I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant…Oh, Lord.”

Every so often, society-girl Brittany shocked the hell out of the Havens, blurting out some unexpected, and generally inappropriate, word or phrase.

Tierney giggled softly, grateful that Brittany’s blunder had eased some of the tension in the room. “I—I know what you meant.”

Brittany’s cheeks were pink, but she grinned at Tierney. “Either way…good for you.”

Now Tierney’s cheeks heated up as she thought about Burr and coming in the same breath. Think of something else. Think of something else. Like…Rory.

“I whacked him hard on t’arse. Is he okay?”

“Who? Rory?” Brittany walked over to the window. “Well, Brian’s flipping burgers at the grill with Ian…and Rory’s…hmm, where is he? Ah! There he is. Rory’s coming back now. Reaching down to the cooler. Grabbing a beer. Ian’s getting the top off for him. Hmm. He’s saying something that looks vaguely like, ‘If you hurt my sister, bloodhounds won’t find your body…’ and…ah-ha! Sláinte!”

Crossing the kitchen, Tierney stood next to Brittany, watching her brothers and Burr clink their bottles together and sighing softly with relief as they drank.

“You know…Rory’s got a mean grease stain on the back of those khakis,” observed Brittany.

“He deserved it,” said Tierney, but her lips twitched with more laughter.

“Yes, he did,” said Brittany, putting an arm around Tierney and hugging her as they watched the boys from the kitchen window. “Indeed he did.”

***

The Havens were pure Irish. Clannish to the core.

After dinner, they lingered, helping Tierney clean up until she announced that she still needed to lock up the great house and outbuildings at the top of the hill. Rory and Ian jumped at the chance to drive her up the road, but Burr stepped in, telling them that he would accompany her. With a look caught somewhere between annoyance and acceptance, Rory shrugged, grunting at Ian and Brittany that it was time to go.

“Well…that was interesting,” said Tierney, sighing deeply as she stood next to Burr on the driveway, watching the gates close behind her family.

Burr put his hands on his hips. “You want to hear something surprising?”

“Sure.”

“I liked your brothers.”

She turned to look at him, her green eyes wide beneath her glasses. “You did?”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing at her and nodding. “I mean, I almost took a swing at Rory when he was grilling you like a drill sergeant, but I understand where he was coming from. Some guy they’ve never heard of shows up at their sister’s place, staying indefinitely. My sister’s husband, Connor? Man, I gave him a tough time before they were married.”

“I’ve got my keys,” she said. “Go get your shoes on and then tell me about Connor while we walk up to the great house.”

He ran into the house and returned a moment later. They turned from the gate to walk up the long driveway, the twilight soft and magical as crickets chirped and cicadas sang their timeless songs. It had been a long time since Burr had spent any time in a place that smelled as clean as Moonstone Manor. He soaked up the evening sounds, letting gratitude fall over him, despite how shitty his life might look to an outside observer.

“So…” said Tierney, falling into step beside him, “why didn’t you like him?”

“Connor? Nah! I loved him. He’s a great guy. Redheaded and freckled. Built as strong as a Mack truck—like yer man, Ian. He’s a lieutenant in the Dorchester Fire Department. Known Suzy since they were kids. He’s good for her.”

“Then why’d you give him a hard time?” she asked.

“Well,” said Burr, chuckling softly at his memories. “I liked him fine before he was—well, for lack of a better word—boinking my sister. Once I found out they were getting it on? Yeah, I gave him hell. I didn’t want her mistreated, you know? Or taken for granted.”

“Yeah. I know.” Tierney nodded. “You’re all Neanderthals.”

“A little,” he agreed. “We’re possessive, the Irish. We look out for what’s ours.”

“When did you let up on Connor?”

“When he put a ring on my sister’s finger. Then I couldn’t care less if they screwed all over Boston. They were legit. He’d taken responsibility. He’d done what was right.”

Tierney stopped walking beside him, and when he realized it, he turned around to look at her. She stood in the dying light, her hands on her hips, a pissed expression on her pretty face. “What?”

“Do you have any idea how reactionary that sounds?” she asked him.

“Wha—”

“He took responsibility,” she barked, adding a sour laugh. “Done what was right. Are you kidding me with that stuff?”

He shrugged. “Not really.”

“You and my brothers are straight out of Victorian times. It’s ludicrous.”

“Because we want to keep the women in our lives safe? Happy? Free from harm? That makes us…reactionary Victorian Neanderthals?”

“You can’t smother us in Bubble Wrap, Burr. Believe it or not, we can think for ourselves, speak for ourselves, and take care of ourselves. We don’t need you idiots—”

“Hey, now,” said Burr, placing his hands on his own hips in a mirror image of her. “I didn’t say you couldn’t take care of yourself. Hell, woman! I’ve seen you with a spatula, and that shit was terrifying.” He sighed, taking a step toward her, wanting her to understand that he was talking about old-fashioned values in a modern world, and frankly, he hoped there was room for both. “I’m saying…when we care for someone—for a woman, be she a mother, a sister, a girlfriend, a lover, a wife, a daughter—we can’t bear to see her heart get broken. We’d rather have both our arms and legs snapped in half than see her cry. Or better yet, we’d like to beat the stuff out of the guy who hurt her.”

Her expression softened just a touch, but she cocked her head to the side. “I think it’s less about loving someone and more about posturing…and ownership.”

“Then you’re crazy,” he answered, thinking about his mother as he turned and started walking again. “When I was young, my mam would shake her finger at me as I left the house in the evenings. She’d say, ‘One, use your head. Two, use your head. Three, picture my face.’ Let me tell you…picturing my mother’s face kept me from doing a lot of stupid or dangerous things. Couldn’t stand to upset or disappoint her.”

“Mmm,” hummed Tierney beside him, not convinced.

“Or take the time Father Jim called my mam because I wouldn’t stop crying at school.”

“Why?”

“Why was I crying?” He chuckled. “Okay, here’s the story. So the father calls her in and there I am, weeping all over my pressed Catholic school shirt in his office w’ Sister Mary Grace wringing her hands in the chair next to me. My mam comes in and Father Jim says, ‘Well, Mrs. O’Leary, young Burr has been emotional all morning, and we can’t get to the bottom of why. Felt we needed to call you in and apprise you of the situation.’ My mother rounds the desk to stand next to Father Jim, her face thunderous, and Sister Mary Grace takes my hand in hers as though to protect me. ‘Well, son?’ asks my mother, no-nonsense, arms crossed over her chest. And there I am, crying even harder now that she’s there. ‘Have you been hurt, my child?’ asks Sister Mary Grace, all concerned about my well-being. My mother scoffs, rolling her eyes. ‘Burr Brian O’Leary, you tell the sister and Father Jim why you’re crying. I have groceries waiting in the car. Quick, now.’ And I look up through tears—mind you, I’ve been crying for over an hour, so my eyes are so swollen, I can barely see—and I wail, ‘I s-smoked one of my d-dad’s cigarettes l-last night b-behind the h-house…’ I pause there to catch a breath. ‘Yes, son?’ says Father Jim, frozen with anticipation, ready to hear I’d endured the beating of the century, with strips of my flesh still lying all over our backyard, right? And I finish off by adding, ‘…and now mam’s d-d-deeply d-d-d-disap-p-pointed w-with me!’” Burr looked askance at Tierney, watching as a dimple dented her cheek, and feeling victorious. “No one had laid a bloody hand on me. I’d stolen a cigarette, smoked it, and gotten caught. And I’d been crying all morning because my mother was deeply disappointed in me.”

“Guilt and shame,” said Tierney. “Every Irish mother’s favorite weapons.”

“I’ve heard the spatula’s making a comeback,” said Burr, purposely knocking into her gently with his elbow.

“All right. All right. So you love your mother and your sister.”

“And your brother loves you,” said Burr. “No mistake, I would’ve popped him if he’d kept going, because I didn’t like what he was insinuating about you. But I still respect him.”

Tierney shook her head. “You’re all impossible.”

“Will you come on Saturday? To see me skate?”

The question surprised him because he hadn’t thought it over before asking, and frankly, it was a blessed relief, because it had been years since he’d felt comfortable enough and safe enough to speak before thinking.

“Probably,” she said. “Though I could be out late on Friday night and exhausted come Saturday.”

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

“Have you forgotten? I have a hot date.”

Hot date? Burr scrunched up his face. What am I missing?

“With John,” she added.

Oh, shit. That’s right. She has to go out on a date with Dr. Weasel on Friday night.

“Aw, forget him. I’ll take you out instead,” he offered, keeping his voice level, though the thought of Tierney going out with the fucking vet made bile rise to the back of his throat.

“A deal’s a deal,” she said, reaching in her pocket for the keys as they approached the visitor’s center.

“Says who?”

“The stitches on your back and front.”

“I’ll pay him.”

“With the Shanahan’s dirty money? I don’t think so.”

Burr reached out, placing his hand on her arm, just over her wrist. “Don’t go, aisling.”

She pulled her arm away gently. “I have to. You know I do. It’s what’s right.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re stubborn, Tierney Haven?”

“About a million times.” She checked the door of the visitor’s center, then continued around the building with Burr traipsing, annoyed, behind her.

The door to the great house was unlocked, but she locked it quickly before turning down another path that led to the barn and watchtower.

“Want to see the inside?” she asked over her shoulder, and unless he was mistaken, there was a thread of hope in her voice, like maybe she’d like to show it to him.

Yes, he did. He was dying to see the view from the watchtower. And no doubt the sunset over the lake would be spectacular, but the problem was that if he stood up there, on top of the world, he’d want to kiss her again. And kissing Tierney wasn’t a good idea.

Burr meant it when he said that he liked her brothers and understood their misgivings where he was concerned. He wasn’t interested in disrespecting their sister by making cheap moves on her when his reason for staying a Moonstone Manor was solely for her protection. No matter how appealing she was—and she beat out any other woman on his radar—she needed to be off-limits. At least for now.

“Not tonight.”

“Oh,” she murmured, two patches of pink appearing in her cheeks. “Okay.”

“Another time,” he said, trying to soften the blow. He leaned against the side of the barn as she closed the double doors and locked them. “I have work to do…studying, the, uh, the property maps. I’ll walk you home and check on the gate before bed.”

A heavy silence descended between them at the mention of bed, the click of the lock behind her key somehow punctuating the word. This cottage is not under your purview, Rory Kavanagh Haven, and for that matter…nor is his bed, nor is mine.

Her bed.

Damn, but he’d sure like to see it again someday…with her in it.

His cock twitched and he shoved himself away from the barn, into a shadow cast by the high red walls.

You’re here to protect her, not romance her, he reminded himself again, though the heat in his groin increased with every beat of his heart, sending blood to his dick, which hardened behind the zipper of his jeans. He wanted her. Christ, this was a mess. Falling for Tierney Haven was the sort of thing that could get him distracted and get them both killed.

You need to stay away from her, boyo. As far as you can in that tiny cottage.

“Well, then I guess we’re done here,” she said softly, turning away from the barn and heading back up another path toward the visitor’s center.

And Burr, who was ever more drawn to her by the moment, stayed a respectful distance behind her until he’d gotten himself under control. But their easy camaraderie was done and gone, and they walked the rest of the way back to her house in silence.