Nancy Warren - Aftershocks

“You look like you’re miles away,” Patrick said.

“Sorry. I think I’m in shock. I had no idea Dylan and his friends had so much energy.”

He chuckled. “He’ll sleep tonight. They all will. And I’m sorry I didn’t give you much of a welcome. You caught me in the middle of a panic.”

She smiled, thinking how much she liked the carefree sound of his laughter, and how rare that laughter was these days. “As I believe I told you, I love to cook.”

“The salad looks great. Thanks for helping me out.”

“What are friends for?”

“Is that what we are, Briana? Friends?”

Briana had asked the question idly, and his reply stunned her. She blinked and stared at Patrick, so serious and so handsome with the sunlight glinting off his black hair, his blue eyes intent on her.

“I-I’d like to think we are.”

He gazed at her as though there was a lot more he wanted to say, and couldn’t. He merely nodded, and she noted the tense set of his shoulders as he turned and strolled over to his brother Sean, who was helping John flip burgers.

She didn’t see Patrick again until it was time for cake and presents. Since there were no kids in her own life-most of her friends being young, childless professionals-she was ridiculously nervous about her gift for Dylan. Was it too old? Too…artistic? She didn’t want to disappoint Dylan with a lame gift, and now she wondered if she’d been wise to include her small present for Fiona.

Oh, well, she’d done it with the best of intentions. Quietly she handed the little girl the wrapped package when Dylan opened his. Fiona was delighted, and her dainty little fingers made surprisingly short work of the wrapping.

“It’s a book!” Fiona showed it to Briana as though it would be a surprise for her, as well. She’d asked at the bookstore and hoped she had something age-appropriate, and the story was about a small black dog who got lost and had to find his way home. It seemed to be a hit with Fiona.

Dylan ripped the wrapping paper off his gift. “Wow. Cool,” he said as he opened the case and spied all the art supplies. “Thanks. I’ll draw you the first picture.” He flashed her that grin again, then opened his book and pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!”

He opened his other gifts, but the biggest excitement was saved for his father’s present-a black mountain bike with a glossy black helmet to match.

“Sweet!” Dylan yelled. “Now we can go biking together, Dad.”

Briana only hoped life in Courage Bay would calm down enough that the father and son could enjoy plenty of weekend bike rides.

She smiled to herself. While they were doing that, she and Fiona could spend some quality girl time making cookies, doing manicures, decorating the doll’s house she’d spied in the little girl’s room. Briana was dying to get her hands on it. And when Fiona was a little older, she imagined the four of them out riding together.

Abruptly she yanked her daydreams back to reality. What was she thinking? She never should have come here today and allowed herself to fall into the fantasy that she was part of the O’Shea clan.

Until she’d cleared her uncle’s name, she needed to keep her distance from the O’Sheas-all of them. If by some slim chance Patrick had been a party to hurting her family, the two of them could never have a future together.

Briana forced herself to drink coffee and chat to Mary O’Shea as though she weren’t counting the seconds until she could leave.

Then, suddenly, nine of the boisterous young boys were being taken home, and relative quiet descended on Patrick’s home. Good. Her moment to escape had arrived.

After a short conversation with Patrick and John, Shannon clapped her hands. “Do the birthday boy and his sister want to come have a sleepover at Auntie Shannon’s?”

Over the shrieks of glee and the pleas, “Can you make pancakes in the morning? Can we take Cleo for a walk?” Briana felt her stomach contract.

Damn that interfering, matchmaking Shannon O’Shea. Briana had liked her better when she was threatening her than she did now that the woman was trying to foster a relationship between Briana and Patrick that was both inappropriate and fraught with potential heartache.

Briana knew perfectly well that the sleepover was a ploy to give her and Patrick time alone. It had to be the least subtle ploy she’d ever seen, and in front of his whole family, too! Not that anyone seemed to mind. Mary, for one, had a complacent smile on her face, and she saw the older woman reach for her husband’s hand and give it a quick squeeze.

Oh, no.

Briana didn’t want time alone with Patrick. Well, okay, she did, but not while everything was such a mess, and she was so confused.

No. She couldn’t and wouldn’t be manipulated like this. As well-meaning as his sister was, Shannon was also, as she’d warned Briana, pushy. For some reason, Patrick’s sister had now decided to sanction the romance, but Briana needed to let it be known to every O’Shea in Courage Bay that she made her own decisions. And being offered a night alone with Patrick on a silver platter was more tempting than she liked to admit, but she wasn’t ready for that delicacy quite yet.

In the pandemonium of the kids getting ready to go, and before Patrick’s family had a chance to leave, she retrieved her coat. Her color was high, she knew, but she couldn’t help that. Maybe they’d think she’d caught a touch of sun.

“Thank you for a lovely party,” she said to Dylan, who was running around the kitchen with his sleeping bag, shouting something about not needing a toothbrush.

Patrick didn’t seem to agree on the toothbrush situation and was down in the bathroom, she presumed, yelling something about cavities.

“Thanks for the present,” Dylan said. “I mean, thanks for coming.”

“I had a good time. You enjoy your sleepover.”

Then she gave Shannon her blandest smile, wished every O’Shea in the vicinity a pleasant evening, and headed out while the O’Shea she most cared about was down the hall in his children’s bathroom.

And take that, Shannon, she said to herself as she scooted into her car and drove home.

BRIANA STARED at the grainy photocopy of the newspaper story and photo that had destroyed her uncle’s chance at being mayor and felt a surge of irritation. Uncle Cecil should hire a lawyer and a private investigator and find out once and for all who’d planted the false story and evidence. Her uncle insisted he wouldn’t have her aunt hurt, but he didn’t seem to consider that this whole mess was hurting his niece.

As much as she wanted to help her uncle, she was putting her own career in jeopardy. She’d come to Courage Bay so angry on her aunt and uncle’s behalf that she couldn’t see straight, never mind think straight. But she’d had two months to gain some perspective and she’d also discovered that she loved Courage Bay, enough that she wanted to put down some roots and stay awhile. Maybe forever. She could no longer contemplate a political hit-and-run operation.

Once Briana had done as much of the legwork as she could to find the culprit behind this story, she’d insist Uncle Cecil launch a formal investigation or drop his vendetta. That was a more honorable course than trying to destroy Patrick’s career.

Even as she tried to focus on the photo, her sneaky mind kept transporting her to that house in Jacaranda Heights, where, even now, Patrick was cleaning up after the party, or maybe doing some quiet activity of his own, since he had the house to himself.

All night long.

Lust grabbed at her with sharp claws and she gritted her teeth to stop herself from driving back over to his place. But maybe once she’d left, Shannon had reneged on the invitation to the kids, and Patrick and his family were all playing one of the new video games Dylan had received for his birthday.