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“That’s what I like to hear,” she said.

Cordelia touched his knee under the table and beamed. “I knew it.”

Shauna winked. They ordered some other items, but Niall wasn’t interested in food. He wanted to whisk Cordelia out of the pub and down to some dark corner of Kilronan where they could be well and truly alone. The pineapple dress was driving him mad, her legs long and lean under its skirt, the tops of her breasts peeking out from the low neckline.

She kept glancing up at him like her thoughts were in line with his. Colin was playing a cover of Taylor Swift’s “I Forgot That You Existed” and Róisín launched into one of her many stories, this one about the time the púca saved Brigid’s life by telling Róisín not to go to the Wormhole, and then it turned out a freak storm swept in and several sheep were lost.

“So you see,” Róisín said as Shauna brought their drinks, “he’s not a bad púca. Not like the one in Inishmaan. That one’s a right menace. Always sits on the left-hand side.” She took a sip of her fresh whiskey. “I wish he’d thought to warn me about Aidan, though,” she said, her eyes turning misty.

“My granddad,” Alison explained.

“He loved the sea. Couldn’t pull him away from it if I tried.” Róisín gave Niall and Cordelia a wobbly smile. “You two make a very fine pair indeed,” she said. “Love is a precious thing. We think it’ll be around forever, but it won’t. You need to grab it and hold it close for as long as you’ve got.”

“All right now, Gran,” Alison said.

“What? Everyone in town has been saying what a fine pair they make. I’m not trying to gossip.”

Niall chuckled. “What are you on about, you’re always trying to gossip.”

“You know me too well. Oh look! They’re setting up for the dancing. I was wondering when Colin was going to play some real music and not whatever the feck that was.”

“Taylor Swift,” Alison said.

“Eh? Who’s he? Never mind, Alison, help me up.” Róisín sprang to her feet before Alison even had a chance to move. The doors to the pub were being propped open. People spilled out onto the street with their drinks, laughing and chatting as Colin moved to set up outside. Fergus had come with his bodhran and Eoghan had his melodeon too. Cormac was getting his violin out of its case.

“I’m just going to check on Da,” Niall said.

He skirted around behind the bar and Shauna was there, pouring two shots of whiskey. She pressed one into his hand.

“To your success,” she said. “Sláinte.”

“Sláinte,” Niall replied with a grin.

The whiskey burned in his chest, giving heat to the desire building in him, this twisting unflappable want. The band started up playing traditional folk tunes—Niall recognized “The Auld Triangle.” He saw Alison leading Cordelia outside and hurried back to the kitchen. He didn’t want to abandon the pub if it needed him. He grabbed the rack of dirty dishes on his way in.

“All right, Da?” he said.

His father was wiping down the countertops.

“That’s it for food,” he said. “It’ll be just drinks from now on. The dancing has started, has it?”

“Yup,” Niall said, putting the rack in the dishwasher and heading back outside. He spotted Cordelia holding Alison’s hand as Alison tried to teach her one of the céilí dances. Her skin glowed in the light of the lanterns, her golden hair spilling down her back, and Niall’s groin ached just looking at her.

“Niall!” Alison called, waving him over. “Colin’s going to start ‘The Walls of Limerick.’ You and Cordie be partners. I’ve been spoken for by this handsome gent, haven’t I, Liam?”

She gestured to a young boy of about ten grinning at her side.

“You were racing currachs yesterday!” Liam exclaimed.

“I was,” Niall said.

“You fell in the harbor.”

“I did.”

Liam pointed at Cordelia. “And she kissed you!”

“You’re a regular commentator,” Niall said, ruffling his hair.