Free Love and Blarney by Zara Keane Page B

return to New York in a few days to sort out a locum and someone to look after the apartment. Once that’s taken care of, I’ll be on the next flight back to Ireland.”
    He let out the breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. Hearing her say she wanted to be with him was an enormous relief. He’d been dreading her return to New York. He was still dreading it, but at least he now knew she’d be coming back. “Are you sure you can bear to live here for a few months? It’s nothing like what you’re used to.”
    “No, and that’s why I like it. But its main selling point is you.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the chin. “The real question is whether or not you can bear the thought of living in New York again.”
    Their fingers entwined, and he brought her knuckles to his lips. “Honestly? I don’t know. If you wanted to go back, I’d go with you.”
    “But you said you were sick of the rat race of Wall Street and happy here in Ballybeg.”
    “I said I was
content
. Your absence left a gaping hole. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we live. Whether we make our home in Manhattan or Ballybeg is something we can decide later. The most important thing is to decide we want to be together, regardless of location.”
    “I definitely want to be with you,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “But I want you to be happy.”
    “If I move back to New York, I doubt I’ll go back to being a stockbroker.” He looked her straight in the eye. “Could you live with me bringing home less money than I used to earn?”
    “Of course.” She didn’t hesitate before answering. “If there’s one thing the past year has proved, it’s that material things don’t mean a damn if you’ve no one to share them with. If you find a job that makes you happy, we’ll find a solution.”
    He caught her up in his arms and kissed her hard. “I love you, Jayme King. So damn much. I want to make our marriage work.”
    “So do I. I’m willing to give it a few months to decide where we want to live.” She nuzzled his ear. “But there’s one condition.”
    “And what’s that?” he asked, teasing the cleft in her chin.
    She fingered the indent on his wedding finger. “We’re getting you a new ring.”

Epilogue
    Seven Months Later
    THE WEEKEND AFTER Molly’s funeral, Jayme and Ruairí packed a picnic and drove out to Mizen Head. A wet August had given way to a blissfully sunny September. The leaves on the trees were showing the first signs of fall, and the busy tourist season that had kept them busy in the pub was starting to ebb.
    Jayme had surprised herself by how much she’d enjoyed spending the last few months in Ireland. Their living quarters over the pub were cramped, and the constant awareness of Molly’s illness was stressful. However, she’d cherished the opportunity to get to know her mother-in-law before she died. She’d never warm to her father-in-law, but she liked most of Ruairí’s siblings, especially Sharon and Marcella.
    And as for Ruairí himself… she lowered her binoculars and eyed her handsome husband with appreciation while he set out their picnic. Reconnecting with him had been a wonderful experience. They’d talked more over the past few months than they had during the three years they were together in New York. At times, it had been painful, but the newfound emotional trust between them more than made up for her discomfort discussing the aftermath of her surgery.
    He caught her watching him and grinned. “Didn’t I tell you the view up here was good?”
    She placed the binoculars on the blanket. “Good? Honey, it’s spectacular.”
    He shaded his eyes against the low September sun. “Funny to think our apartment in Manhattan is all the way across the ocean.”
    She stared out at the crashing waves below the cliffs and at the vast expanse of ocean beyond. “Funny to think I don’t miss it. Who would have thought I’d enjoy living in a small Irish town?”
    Ruairí