bait.
“Come on, Flynn. You’re going to take that bet, right?” Micah needled, taking an aggressive, wide-legged stance. “Or has the Boy Wonder just come home to sign away his heritage and hustle back to the big city again?”
Crap.
Lily had to repress the urge to smack Micah upside the head. If the well-intentioned loyalist of the Doyle clan managed to mess up her plans, she’d kill him. “Micah, come on. You know that’s not the way we do things in Seashell Bay,” she said in a firm voice. “Aiden will always be one of us.”
Her friend grimaced but remained silent as he glared at Aiden.
Aiden’s balled fists slowly opened, and he turned his gaze from Micah to Lily. He let the silence between them drag on for too long but then nodded. “I appreciate that, Lily. And if you want me to take a shot at the races, fine. As long as
Irish Lady
is up to it.” He glanced back at his brother. “Can we get the old girl in shape by the weekend?”
If there was one thing the Flynns had in quantity it waspride, so it was no surprise when Bram started to look enthusiastic. “It’ll take some work, but damn right we can, bro. And it’ll be great to kick some Doyle ass again, even one as sweet as Lil’s.”
Though Aiden was still looking wary and skeptical, Lily had been right in thinking he couldn’t refuse the challenge. Especially from a girl, and worse yet, a Doyle.
But Mr. Aiden Flynn had no idea what he was getting himself into. After all, she’d won her class in the Seashell Bay boat races for the past two years.
And he’d be in for an even bigger surprise when she finally laid out the penalty for losing.
Chapter 4
E ven with his legs firmly braced and one hand propped against the dash, Aiden bounced up and down in the old truck as Bram sped along the potholed goat track that was a sorry excuse for a road. He struggled to remember the name of the curving east-end road, but he couldn’t quite pull it from his brain. The houses were certainly familiar, since little had physically changed on Seashell Bay Island for decades. After all, the last building boom was during World War II, after the navy built a fuel depot on the island.
As much as Aiden held no sentimentality toward the island, it didn’t seem right that simple things like the names of the roads he’d walked, cycled, and driven on all through his youth would be so difficult to recall. It looked as if his subconscious mind was as eager to erase childhood memories as his conscious mind was, and that kind of sucked.
When Bram hit another pothole at full speed, Aiden banged his elbow against the door handle yet again.
“Jesus, man, you’re gonna kill the old beater if youkeep driving like you’re in frigging NASCAR,” Aiden growled. “And I doubt the old man’s about to spring for a new one.”
Not when you’re blowing what little money you’ve got on booze and online gambling, little brother.
“He couldn’t, even if he wanted to,” Bram retorted. “That’s why we need to sell all that useless land. Dad’s running through his money fast, not that he ever gave me much anyway. We’ve got nothing now that we can’t fish anymore. Nothing but the land.”
Aiden was sorry he’d opened his mouth. He’d been back on the island less than twenty-four hours, and it already felt like he was in a pressure cooker. That hot-button argument between Bram and Miss Annie last night—plus the nasty-ass scene with his dad—had provided a full-color snapshot of how bad things might still get.
“At least the old man didn’t blow a gasket over this bet,” Aiden said, wanting to change the subject.
When the three of them met for a late breakfast at Bram’s this morning, their father had risen to Lily’s bait even faster than Aiden and Bram. Fueled by the beer he’d put away before they even sat down to eat, he’d cursed Lily’s lineage right back to her great-great-grandfather Seamus.
“You’d better whip her skinny little ass,”
“Come on, Flynn. You’re going to take that bet, right?” Micah needled, taking an aggressive, wide-legged stance. “Or has the Boy Wonder just come home to sign away his heritage and hustle back to the big city again?”
Crap.
Lily had to repress the urge to smack Micah upside the head. If the well-intentioned loyalist of the Doyle clan managed to mess up her plans, she’d kill him. “Micah, come on. You know that’s not the way we do things in Seashell Bay,” she said in a firm voice. “Aiden will always be one of us.”
Her friend grimaced but remained silent as he glared at Aiden.
Aiden’s balled fists slowly opened, and he turned his gaze from Micah to Lily. He let the silence between them drag on for too long but then nodded. “I appreciate that, Lily. And if you want me to take a shot at the races, fine. As long as
Irish Lady
is up to it.” He glanced back at his brother. “Can we get the old girl in shape by the weekend?”
If there was one thing the Flynns had in quantity it waspride, so it was no surprise when Bram started to look enthusiastic. “It’ll take some work, but damn right we can, bro. And it’ll be great to kick some Doyle ass again, even one as sweet as Lil’s.”
Though Aiden was still looking wary and skeptical, Lily had been right in thinking he couldn’t refuse the challenge. Especially from a girl, and worse yet, a Doyle.
But Mr. Aiden Flynn had no idea what he was getting himself into. After all, she’d won her class in the Seashell Bay boat races for the past two years.
And he’d be in for an even bigger surprise when she finally laid out the penalty for losing.
Chapter 4
E ven with his legs firmly braced and one hand propped against the dash, Aiden bounced up and down in the old truck as Bram sped along the potholed goat track that was a sorry excuse for a road. He struggled to remember the name of the curving east-end road, but he couldn’t quite pull it from his brain. The houses were certainly familiar, since little had physically changed on Seashell Bay Island for decades. After all, the last building boom was during World War II, after the navy built a fuel depot on the island.
As much as Aiden held no sentimentality toward the island, it didn’t seem right that simple things like the names of the roads he’d walked, cycled, and driven on all through his youth would be so difficult to recall. It looked as if his subconscious mind was as eager to erase childhood memories as his conscious mind was, and that kind of sucked.
When Bram hit another pothole at full speed, Aiden banged his elbow against the door handle yet again.
“Jesus, man, you’re gonna kill the old beater if youkeep driving like you’re in frigging NASCAR,” Aiden growled. “And I doubt the old man’s about to spring for a new one.”
Not when you’re blowing what little money you’ve got on booze and online gambling, little brother.
“He couldn’t, even if he wanted to,” Bram retorted. “That’s why we need to sell all that useless land. Dad’s running through his money fast, not that he ever gave me much anyway. We’ve got nothing now that we can’t fish anymore. Nothing but the land.”
Aiden was sorry he’d opened his mouth. He’d been back on the island less than twenty-four hours, and it already felt like he was in a pressure cooker. That hot-button argument between Bram and Miss Annie last night—plus the nasty-ass scene with his dad—had provided a full-color snapshot of how bad things might still get.
“At least the old man didn’t blow a gasket over this bet,” Aiden said, wanting to change the subject.
When the three of them met for a late breakfast at Bram’s this morning, their father had risen to Lily’s bait even faster than Aiden and Bram. Fueled by the beer he’d put away before they even sat down to eat, he’d cursed Lily’s lineage right back to her great-great-grandfather Seamus.
“You’d better whip her skinny little ass,”
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