Beers, Hens, and Irishmen (Warbler's Point Series) (10 page)

             
Booker decided to change the subject. “Do you work at the pub too?”

             
Bradon eyed him for a second and continued to walk down the path with Booker. “I do occasionally. I mainly work here for my parents. They are getting older and can’t do as much around the inn so I help them out. Plus I get to meet a lot of willing and eager tourists.” Bradon wiggled his eyebrows.

             
Booker laughed. “Well I hope you’re not talking about me.”

             
“Aye, Laddie. Tis are a pretty boy but not me type.” Bradon said in a thick Irish brogue.

             
Continuing to laugh, Booker agreed. “You’re not my type either man. You heading in for breakfast?”

             
“Of course, I never miss out on my bangers, brown bread and eggs.”

             
“Bangers?”

             
Bradon patted Booker’s back while he continued practicing his Irish inflection. “Aye Sheila, don’t tell me ya don’t know what bangers are? Don’t tell me we have an eejit in these parts.”

             
“Eejit?” Booker felt so confused with the Irish slang being thrown around and the thick accent Bradon was able to nail without a stammer. Booker thought the man probably scored big time when he turned on the charm.

             
Bradon laughed. “Yup, we definitely have an eejit.”

             
Bradon opened the door to the main house for Booker and ushered him in. The smell of breakfast overwhelmed him when he walked in. The house was dressed in a dark green on the walls and gold fixtures everywhere. He felt like he was in Ireland when he stepped in the main house, especially with the little red-headed lady wiping her hands on her frilly apron heading his way.

             
“Why Mr. Hall, aren’t we glad to see ya tis fine mornin’.” She leaned over and planted a kiss on Bradon’s cheek pulling him down. “Mornin’ son. I’m glad to see ya weren’t with ya brothers last night, they got absolutely buckled. Fiona called me this morning sayin’ how she had to carry their sorry arses up the stairs.”

             
Booker’s senses faired with the mention of Fiona’s name. Instead of sitting down for breakfast, Booker felt himself intruding on the little family conversation between Bradon and his mom but he couldn’t help himself since Fiona was already mentioned in conversation. He couldn’t help but wonder if she would be mentioned again, any kind of clue into her life was like gold to him.

             
“Damn, I wish I was there last night. I had a date though.”

             
“Ah, with that Kelly gal?”

             
“Uh, no.” Bradon pushed back his hair with his hand. “We are no longer seeing each other.”

             
Mary Margaret frowned and tapped her foot on the floor at a rapidly impressive pace. “And why not?”

             
Booker watched Bradon squirm in his shoes. “Well, I found out she, uh has dentures and it freaked me out.”

             
Booker busted out in laughter, he couldn’t contain himself. Bradon was a young attractive guy who could most likely get any girl he wanted and there he was, dating someone with dentures.

             
Bradon and Mary Margaret both looked at Booker with annoyance in their eyes. He realized he was over-staying his welcome in the little family conversation. He excused himself and headed for the dining area. Filling up his plate with what seemed like sausage, some eggs and some thick sliced bread he headed for the table.

             
He sat next to an older looking man, slightly balding brown hair and piercing blue eyes. The man was reading the paper and didn’t seem to see Booker sit down until Booker set his orange juice on the table and accidently knocked it over, soaking the man’s newspaper so it was unreadable.

             
“Jesus.” Shouted the man in another Irish accent.

             
Damn. The man had to be Fiona’s dad, there was no doubt about that now. Booker mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done in irritating the intimidating man first chance her got. He tried to soak up the orange juice before it made things even worse while avoiding eye contact with Fiona’s fuming father.

             
“I’m so sorry, it was an accident.” Booker said while fumbling around feeling the heat from the man’s gaze.

             
“Carlin Patrick O’Leary!” Mary Margaret shouted. “Now is that how ya treat one of our guests? Get your arse up and help the poor lad.” The shocked look on Carlin’s face was almost comical. Apparently no one messed with Mary Margaret, she may be small but she was a little fire ball of a woman.

             
Carlin looked at Booker with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle ya like that. I was so engrossed in me paper that the juice scared me.”

             
Booker just continued to wipe up the juice and smile. Carlin took the napkins from this hand and wiped himself. The man was tall, just like the O’Leary boys. Booker sized himself up next to the man and knew that if he ever got himself in trouble with Fiona, he would be in for a serious bruising. Booker knew he stood no chance against the four men in Fiona’s life so he made a mental note not to screw anything up with Fiona or else he might as well start digging his own grave.              

             
“Sit down lad, we can take care of the mess.” Mary Margaret came over with some cleaning spray and a towel. Carlin grabbed another orange juice and set it down next to Booker…away from Carlin’s seat.

             
“Sorry about that.” Booker said. “Apparently I should be drinking coffee, I guess I’m not quite awake enough.”

             
“I’m glad, ya went for the juice, coffee would have burnt me old balls off.” Carlin gestured to his pants that had juice all over them. Booker was kicking himself under the table for his clumsiness.

             
Mary Margaret smacked her husband in the arm. “Don’t say ‘me balls’ in front of our guests ya old coot. Where are ye manners?” She turned her attention back to Booker. “Would you like some coffee?” The change in her attitude when she was yelling at her husband and then talking to her guests bordered bi-polar.

             
“No, no the juice is fine, thank you.” Booker didn’t want to start any more trouble for Carlin so he accepted the juice the man gave him and kept his mouth shut.

             
Once the mess was clean Bradon sat next to him and his father as Carlin finally reached over to introduce himself to Booker.

             
“Carlin O’Leary. You must be Booker, the lad from California me wife has been blabbin’ on about.”

             
“That would be me. Nice to meet you.”

             
Bradon chimed in with a mouth full of food. “He’s the Sheila da.”

             
Mary Margaret slapped Bradon in the back of the head. “Don’t talk with ya mouth full ya muppet.”

             
“Muppet? Eejit? Bangers? Do you sell an Irish dictionary in your gift shop?” Booker asked.

             
“Now whose been calling ya an eejit?” Mary Margaret asked, eyeing Bradon suspiciously.

             
Bradon tried to get Booker’s attention but Booker enjoyed watching him squirm. “Oh I learned it on the way in from Bradon.”

             
Mary Margaret smacked Bradon on the head again. “You callin’ our guests eejits?”

             
“Just trying to have some fun ma?” Bradon rubbed the back of his head and gave Booker the your-going-to-pay-for-this glare. Booker wasn’t too shaken up, he could take Bradon, he was a pretty boy. It was the other three O’Leary men Booker didn’t want to cross and Mary Margaret for that matter after seeing her bring her husband and son down a peg or two in a short few minutes.

             
“Oh its fine Mrs. O’Leary. I just want in on the language so I know what I’m up against.”

             
Carlin laughed. “Well laddie, eejit means idiot of fool, muppet is used when you are callin someone a uh, dumbarse and bangers, well that’s what ya eatin’ right now. Its sausage. Stick with me boy and ya’ll learn.”

             
“Sounds like a deal to me. If I pitch in with some work around here will you teach me the Irish way?”

             
Mary Margaret chimed in before Carlin could get a word in. “Ya’ll not be helpin’ around this here house. Y’are guest, let’s keep it that way.” She spoke her mind while wiping down one of the buffets with her apron.

             
“Thank you Mrs. O’Leary but I will be here for a while and I would love to help out around the place and learn about your culture.”

             
“I could use some help on the fence before it gets too cold.” Carlin said to his wife slightly wincing, knowing if he crossed the lady she would blow a gasket. Booker already learned that Mary Margaret was a firecracker and you do what she said. She just rolled her eyes and moved to the another buffet to refill the juice jars.

             
“I’m free tomorrow. Shall I meet you here for breakfast again and then we can get to work?”

             
“Sounds perfect.” Booker shook Carlin’s hand and headed to the kitchen with his plate when he heard Carlin say, “Bradon, let your brothers know the plan.”

             
Booker’s whole body went rigid. All of Fiona’s brothers were going to be there? Building a fence together? Great! Just what he needed, to be surrounded by men who would do anything to protect the girl he was after. He needed to watch himself and make sure none of them found out about what he had planned for his date with Fiona because if they did, he didn’t think they would be using wood for building the fence, he could see his body parts being used as posts instead.

                                                                                    ***

              Sophie had to run to the general store for some more eggs, she was annoyed she had to stop what she was doing and go to the store because she miscalculated her baking supply needs. Sophie realized, that’s when having a husband was convenient because she could just send him out real quick while she could continue baking. That was probably the only thing she missed about being married.

             
She made a list in her phone of items she would need to stock up on just in case, she didn’t want to run out again. She still was in shock from seeing Liam at her front door the other day. She could not believe Neala wanted to get a divorce. She had never seen Liam look so distraught and unhappy. She hated seeing him like that, it pulled at her heart strings knowing that such a kind and caring man was going through such a difficult time. Nothing happened between Sophie and Liam and she would never do anything to get in between a marriage and break up a family. She was not that kind of person. Instead, she was the victim of that kind of behavior. Her divorce with Greg was still taking a toll on her. His lawyer practically took everything from her, so she had to make a life for herself which she was slowly getting back to where she wanted her life to be. The only thing missing was love.

             
People would think that after having her husband cheat on her and spending the last year fighting over a bank account and possessions, she would devoid herself of any kind of love, let alone a relationship. Nope, not her. She was a hopeless romantic. She wanted to find that one person who lit her on fire, who made her melt and devoted themselves, solely to her.

             
She returned to Warblers Point because that is where she grew up and she wanted to be in a place that was familiar and comforting. She had no clue Liam was still going to be living in Warblers Point as well as own a successful pub with his siblings. She always loved hanging out with the O’Leary’s. She was an only child so having so many people to play with was a dream to her. They took her in and treated her as family. Seeing Liam again brought back all those feelings of comfort and family, as well as deep down feelings of passion and yearning. But she didn’t know if the passion she felt was for Liam or just memories of what a passionate relationship felt like.

             
She didn’t like to admit it but when Liam showed up at her door with the news of his impending divorce a part of her deep down inside was dancing with glee. She would never admit that because what kind of person is excited when their friend tells them about a divorce? She felt guilty for being happy but then again she couldn’t help herself. She never got over Liam, and maybe that was a reason why her husband cheated on her. No, that was not her fault. She had to keep telling herself that, Greg made his decision.

             
Still, Liam always held a piece of her heart, no matter who she dated…or married. Now that he was going to be single…hopefully, she would have her chance to maybe re-kindle what they lost years ago. Maybe she could finally have the happily ever after she always wanted.