you feel. Embrace the moment and live while you’re young.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you still think about Michael?”
“Every second of every day. I miss him so much. I wish he were here to see our babies.”
“If you were in my shoes, what would you do?”
“Only you can answer that.” Molly smiled mischievously. “Allie can spend the night with me. It’s getting late, and she’ll be asleep soon.”
“You are wicked.” Kate laughed and hugged her.
“Don’t I know it.” She laughed. “I’ll make up the spare room.”
Kate paused in the doorframe between the parlor and kitchen. Liv looked so beautiful, glowing with love and child, while her Jack gave just the right amount of support, though still letting go when she needed him to. Skye leaned against the piano, dreaming his thoughts. She’d found it a lot safer not to contemplate on those overmuch.
Ryan lounged on the piano bench, as if he were born on it. To anyone else, he might’ve looked lazy. When his eyes met hers across the room, she felt a punch of heat. Was she ready to surrender to his desires? She held his gaze, smiled at him, and sat on the sofa by Allie.
Molly sat down beside her and pulled Allie’s feet into her lap. “Play us a tune, Ryan Michael.”
“Yes. Play for us, Ryan. I can’t remember the last time I heard you play.” That was a lie. Of course she did, so she grinned at him when she made the request. Ryan smiled back and Kate knew he remembered as well.
Ryan began to play, letting his fingers lightly caress the keys of the old piano. Kate couldn’t help but watch his hands as they played. Their graceful stroking movements conjured memories of how they’d felt sliding across her heated skin. The tune turned bouncy, lusty, and she knew why he’d chosen this song. My song. He’d written it for her on a pipe flute the first night they’d made love, the night they’d conceived Allaina. Ryan slanted a look at her and smirked. Kate wanted to kiss that smirk off his face until he was just as lost in the memory. She closed her eyes and let the notes float around her.
It was just after eight when she heard Ryan knock quietly on the window. He’d be afraid her father would hear him. There was no chance of that. Mick had drunk himself into a stupor earlier and passed out on the kitchen floor. That’s where she had left him to sleep it off.
She climbed out the small window and dropped the three feet to the ground below. Ryan had a blanket over his arm, a picnic basket over that, and a stupid grin on his face.
“Happy Birthday, Kate.”
Ryan always called her that, not Mary Katherine or Katie or girl or cailin, as her father did. He made it sound like a lady’s name, sophisticated and grown up. He drew her against him with his free arm and kissed her with all the passion and fire of the forbidden. Ryan was five years her senior, but she was no child, hadn’t been for a long time, but she was still innocent.
“Mmm, that’s the best present I’ve had all day. Do I get another?” she teased.
“Maybe. Come walking with me, Kate. I’ll have you home before light.”
His words were playful, but the tone serious.
“I can stay out all night if I want. Am I not allowed to enjoy my birthday?” Kate linked her arm through Ryan’s and took the blanket from him.
They walked past the aging cottage near the standing stones. Someone had started painting it a sunny yellow, probably Liv. Kate could understand her friend’s odd obsession with the little house. She felt the same about her cove. She didn’t own the roughly eight by twelve foot spot of land, but it just felt like it belonged to her. She heard a rock give way under Ryan’s heavy footsteps. Almost there. Her heartbeat quickened.
Rolling ocean waves sprayed Kate’s face with droplets of warm water. Summer in Ireland was nothing short of magical and the sea was gorgeous. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the pipe
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