Free Night Of The Blackbird by Heather Graham

Boy’ at home? It was lovely, girl, lovely.”
    â€œThank you, Liam.”
    â€œYour nose isn’t a-shinin’ or anything, Moira Kathleen,” Seamus added.
    â€œThanks, guys, thanks so much,” she said softly, and her words were genuine. The men were all sincerity, her true supporters. “Dad, I think I’ll take Michael up to meet Mum—”
    â€œAye, daughter, don’t be a’ leaving me now! The place is getting busy. Come back here and give your old man a hand.”
    â€œColleen—”
    â€œNow, do you see your sister? She’s escaped somehow.”
    â€œI’ll take Michael up to meet your mother and Granny Jon,” Josh volunteered cheerfully.
    She tried to skewer him with her eyes.
    Michael looked at her with a rueful smile and a shrug, his countenance assuring her that he totally understood her situation. “I’ll be fine with Josh.”
    â€œBe prepared for strong tea,” she warned him, walking around the bar to join her father.
    He caught her hands and whispered softly, “Save those kisses for later. Maybe at the hotel—after pub hours? Totally discreetly, of course,” he teased, his eyes rolling. “I don’t want your father hating me before he gets to know me.”
    â€œJust make sure he knows your family is Irish. He’ll love you,” she whispered.
    â€œCome on, Michael,” Josh said. “I’ll show you the back way.”
    As Josh brushed by Moira, she caught his arm and hissed at him. “Just you wait! See if I ever baby-sit again.”
    â€œTurning coward on me now, are you, Moira Kathleen?” he teased. “Sorry, kid, face this den of lions yourself. Or is it only one lion that frightens you?”
    With that, he was gone, leading Michael behind the office and storeroom to show him the stairs.
    â€œBastard,” she muttered.
    â€œYou don’t mean me, do you, Moira Kathleen?”
    She spun around. She should have known that Dan O’Hara had joined her behind the bar. He wore his distinctive brand of aftershave. She should have felt him there, next to her, helping himself to a beer from the tap.
    â€œDoes it fit?” she inquired sweetly.
    He didn’t respond, just drank deeply and looked her up and down. “Maybe it does,” he said at last, with a casual shrug. “You’re looking quite the sophisticated lady. Lovely, as usual.”
    â€œThank you so much.”
    â€œWork is good?”
    â€œWonderful. And you? Stirring up strife and rebellion, as usual?”
    â€œAh, now, my weapon, if I have one, is the pen, you know. Or the computer, these days.”
    â€œWhatever.”
    â€œYou never understood me, love.”
    â€œI think I understood enough.”
    He leaned against the bar next to her. Too close. “You need to spend time with me, Moira.”
    â€œCan’t, this trip. Sorry, I’m in love.”
    â€œAh, yes, with perfect Michael.”
    â€œHe’s quite wonderful, really.”
    â€œAs good as me?”
    She was surprised to find herself moving closer to him, eyes slightly narrowed. “Better. So damned good, in fact, that it was only my father’s presence that kept me from full-fledged sex on the bar.”
    To her annoyance, he started to laugh.
    â€œI’m so glad I always amuse you.”
    He shook his head, sobering. “Sorry. It’s just that…well, if he were that good, you wouldn’t have felt the need to tell me.”
    She straightened, staring at him with all the cool dignity with which she could cloak herself. “No, no, it’s different this time. Sure there were those years when I just hopped from man to man, affair to affair, my heart bleeding for you, but things change. Now I’m in love.”
    â€œSure you are. And like hell you hopped from man to man. You want a dossier on a man before you go to dinner with him.”
    She turned, clearing away empty