Flann swung through the door into the dining room with a flourish but nearly tripped over a bar stool when she saw the now familiar profile, broad shoulders and curly dark hair of the “hotty” who had come to see her sister. Quickly composing herself, she approached his table.

“Sufferin’ ducks, and if it isn’t himself come to brighten the day at O’Fallon’s.” Cade’s eyes were as compelling as she remembered. He was dressed in jeans, a black knit shirt, leather bomber jacket and a slow smile that would stop a saint in her tracks. And...he was looking for her sister.

“Flannery? What are you doing here?”

“Staying outta trouble,” she quipped. “I might ask the same of you.”

“I’m looking for Kerry Sloane. Do you know her?” 

“I know her well. You might say I’ve known her all my life.” In fact you could say I know her like my own flesh and blood. What did he want with Kerry? “She’s not here.” Flann moved closer and leaned a hip into the edge of the table. “Maybe I can help you. Jamie has a fine boxty in the oven and you can’t beat our fish an’ chips.”

“You...work here? I thought you didn’t need to work.”

Didn’t need to work? Was he loolaa? “Everyone needs to work, Cade. Did you think I was queen of the feckin’ E.U.?”

“You don’t look the type.”

What in bloody hell did he mean by that? “Type? There’s no shame in being a working girl.”

“Look, I just didn’t expect to see you here. Forget it.”

“No offense taken. What can I get you?” He looked like a couple of shots of good Irish whiskey would settle his hash.

“I’d try the fish an’ chips if you would join me?”

“Since it looks like you are my only customer and I’m due a lunch break myself....sure.” She gave him one of her best smiles, turned toward the kitchen and yelled, “hey, Jamie, I’m taking my break. Give us a one an’ one, a serving of the boxty, a couple a’ Harps, and an Inishowen, would you there?”

“Anything for the love of my life,” Jamie called from behind the door.
“Stow it Jamie Mac!” Flannery shot back, then turned to Cade. “He’s always good fer craic, our Jamie.”

“Craic? Inishowen? One and one? Would you like to translate?”

“Whatta ya mean ‘translate’? You speak English don’tcha?” she teased. “Okay...I’m just giving you a time. ‘Craic’ is fun, ‘Inishowen’ is a whiskey from County Donegal and a ‘one and one’ is what we, the feckin’ Irish, call fish and chips.”

She loved watching his expressions, the smooth lines of his face as he went from skeptical to satisfied. Flannery’s pulse quickened at the way his dark eyes, shaded by long lashes, swept lazily over her, undressing her, right here in a public place. Yes, as her girlfriends back home liked to say, “He was a ride.”

From Butterfly
Available from The Wild Rose Press or