Page 18 of An Irish Hope

“I’m not here asking for my own amusement. I’m worried about her.”

He scratched his chin. “I’m sure she’ll contact you when she’s ready.”

“But—”

“Goodbye, Ash.” He walked away again.

“Will you let us know if you hear from her?” she called.

He lifted a hand, but whether it was in agreement or farewell she didn’t know.

She studied him, the slump in his shoulders that suggested whatever had happened between him and Fiona was not of his liking. And given what she knew about her headstrong sister, probably not of his doing.

She bit her lip. She could be a little like Fiona in some ways, inclined to take up others’ offences and get upset on their behalf. Passionate, Mam called it. Hot-headed was Colin’s term of choice. And while she liked to feel she was someone who tackled a problem head on, perhaps there were times when certain situations could benefit from a little more discretion. Rory was better at that. Colin could be too. And seeing how she’d just wrecked her chance at finding what Declan’s issue was, perhaps she’d do better to be wiser with lessening her strong-arm tactics with men too. Like she had with a certain someone yesterday.

She turned, then almost collided with that certain someone, forcing her into a two-step. “Oh!”

“We really should stop meeting like this.” Andy’s lips half-curved, and at once her heart took flight.

“Uh, hi.” Okay, there was not wanting to appear fierce, but she didn’t need to swing so far the other way that she sounded breathless! “Hello.” She winced. Now she sounded too firm. “I mean, greetings.” Ugh. Why not add a “howdy, partner” or a ‘Top o’ the mornin’ to ya” as well?

He stared at her, as if fascinated. Then made a noise that might be a low chuckle. “I understood the first time.”

“Good. Um…”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked kindly.

“No. I mean, yes, of course. I’m just a bit flustered.”

“Last night was late.”

“Yes! But it was fun, right? And you were really good. And we were really good.”

“We were.” His head tilted, his dark eyes searching her until tiny goose-bumps lifted from her skin. “About that—”

“Ash, we’re going in!” Rory called, pointing at the café.

“Oh.”

“Sounds like you’re wanted.”

“But I want you too.”

His eyes widened, and she felt heat that always presaged a flush on her skin. Oh, she hoped the makeup job in the car earlier was doing its job.

His mouth curved higher, and she suddenly realised what she’d said. Oh, why did this man make her feel so nervous? “Um, where is your friend?”

“Grady likes to sleep in on Sundays.”

“He doesn’t go to church?”

“Not because I don’t ask him to come with me.”

“You’re a Christian?” she tested. Some might call her frivolous, but faith in a potential boyfriend was important to her.

“Yes. I’ve been following Jesus since I was a boy. You?”

“Yes.” Mmm. She liked a man who was unashamed to declare himself a believer. She corrected herself. “Obviously not from when I was a boy, but from when I was a girl.”