“Sure. That would be great. I’ll be traveling to Tulsa more often now.”
“I know you’re coming at the end of next week to see the space and meet Jo, James’ sister. Maybe I could take you out to dinner Wednesday in Eufaula.”
Internally freaking out, Raven smiled, in an un-manic way— she hoped. “I would love that.”
Bran smiled back, “Good.” He briefly touched her back as they joined everyone else.
8
“Some set up,” River looked about her appreciatively. “You O’Faolain men know what’s what in Pond Chic, or at least you do, Hugh.” Dad’s lips tilted up at the good-natured gibe.
“Consider me your bartender for the day.” James flipped a glass up in the air, missed, and it landed on the bar. Thank God it was plastic.
“We’re in good hands then.” Bran met Raven’s eyes as she raised her brows at the show.
“Dad, how about you start prepping the steaks and veg while I put on a playlist of everyone’s favorite tunes. Bran can continue standing there staring at Raven, and James can keep embarrassing himself.”
“Good plan, Patrick. Hugh, I’ll help you with the food.” In a stage whisper, River leaned toward the older gentleman and said, “I think we all know Raven isn’t an option for your sous chef.”
That got Raven’s attention. “Hey! That was not my fault. A few of the cookies even looked edible.”
“Bran, you should check the Eufaula obituaries and see if any poor soul died recently from eating dumpster charcoal.”Laughing, Patrick stepped behind his brother to dodge Raven’s ice cube missile.
Ignoring the antics, Hugh told River he would appreciate the help. Pat finished cueing up the playlist he’d created earlier. Everyone contributed their favorite songs before the meeting with James had started.
As Patrick bluetoothed into the system, he informed them, “You can learn a lot about someone from the music they enjoy.” River agreed with him, of course. Knowing Patrick’s tastes... concerning.
Bran saw Raven look in River’s direction before finding Rowan— a mix between a grimace and resignation played over her features. Rowan smiled slightly and shrugged her shoulders.
Bran enjoyed having the Byrnes here. It was relaxing. They were practically strangers, but there was an ease— not necessarily for his dad, but he was smiling here and there.Under Pressurepumped through the cabana’s system. Bran watched James smile.
“That’s one of mine. No one can top Queen.” Lining up glasses on the bar, James asked for drink orders, and the three sisters rapid-fired their orders.
“Jameson Black Barrel. Double. Neat. Not chilled.”
“Bushmills Black Bush. Double. Neat. Not chilled.”
Noted, Bran thought. Tucking away the information of his newest obsession.
“Glenmorangie 18. Two fingers will do. Neat. Not chilled. Thank you, James,” Rowan added.
“Surrounded by all things Irish, and the little lady goes for Scottish. Nice.” James flashed the youngest sister a smile.
Bran hoped the two could be friends if nothing else. James was clearly not over his ex, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need to date, even if it was platonic.
“I would have liked Slane, but I don’t think you have it,” she laughed. At this, Hugh’s head jerked up. Sure as shit, his dad was scanning the shelves of spirits. He must not have found that particular Irish whiskey either. His jaw tensed like he couldn’t believe his oversight.
Bran laughed to himself. Dad didn’t seem to care for Rowan overly much, but he obviously didn’t like not having her drink of choice. Amused, he caught the tail end of what Pat was saying.
“...Byrnes have good taste.”
Bran smiled at Raven. “Not super shocking, considering their heritage.”
“Dad was a man who enjoyed his whiskey of an evening while he graded papers or worked on his own writing to publish,” Raven said. “Mom liked her herbal tea... Hey! That’s one of my songs.”Maybe.
“Jesus.” River rolled her eyes. “I call dibs on the hammock. This song could put a Red Bull taste tester to sleep.”
“Don’t you dare badmouth Matthew Nolan!”
