Page 12 of An Irish Hope

Her sisters and groomsmen. Well, apart from Fiona’s partner who was at the hotel with his wife and baby daughter.

Right. “Well, have a nice night.”

“You too.”

“Andy.” She nodded to him. “Randy.”

“It’s actually Grady,” he complained.

Whatever. She took her seat, her peripheral vision in line with where Andy sat.

“Who was that?” Fiona asked in a low voice.

She sighed, sipped her drink. “You know how I had a little accident before? It was with him.”

“Who, the freckled one or the one who looks like he thinks he’s God’s gift?”

She snickered. “The first one.”

“And you’re talking to him, not screaming?”

“I did that earlier,” she admitted. Which was so not what Jesus would likely do. But oh well. She wasn’t Jesus.

She noticed her sisters sneak looks over their shoulders, Aidan and Declan too. See, she knew how to bring the fun factor, she was good craic. She sipped her drink, glad for the music which drowned out most of her wild imaginings, but not all. She felt self-conscious, especially having confessed to Rory earlier about her feelings. It was like she was now on show. Fortunately, it didn’t look like Rory had said anything to the others, not even Aidan, which was good.

But what was not good was that her seat meant she was in prime position for when two blondes claimed the seats opposite Andy and Randy in the booth.

Her heart tightened. What was that about? She didn’t recognise the blondes, and they certainly hadn’t booked in at the hotel. So how did Andy know them? Did he prefer that kind of stick-thin blonde Bambi creature to a woman who owned her curves? She snuck a peek over her shoulder, saw Andy glance away.

And the fact she’d been busted drew fresh heat to her cheeks, and fresh questions to her heart. Had she misunderstood before? Maybe this seesaw of emotions was simply the natural result of her brother getting married today. And instead of being part of the Fairall legacy she was operating under delusions ignited by a day of big emotions.

“Hey, look, they’re starting,” Rory said, pointing to the corner, as the band packed up.

As was common most Saturday nights the karaoke would begin late and continue until the wee hours. Which meant, given the crowd’s enthusiasm levels, she might get the chance to perform several songs. Nobody liked someone who took over, but the Fairall sisters often met with applause, and it was nice to think she could get something right at least.

“It’s a shame that Colin and Kara can’t be here,” Rory said.

“I’m sure they’re happy back at the hotel, doing newlywed things.” Declan winked.

“Ugh, yuk. I don’t want to imagine my brother doing that,” Fiona complained.

“Then why don’t you sing with me?” he asked, eyes intent on her.

Fiona eyed him over the brim of her drink, then shook her head.

“We could sing our favourite,” he persisted.

Aisling swapped glances with Rory, who seemed as taken aback as she. Declan and Fiona had a favourite song? Didn’t Fiona hate him?

“No thanks.” Fiona drained her drink then rose. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Declan pressed his lips together, watching her, then drained his drink too.

“Um, Declan, just wondering what the heck was that about?” Aisling asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You and Fiona have a favourite song?”