into his eyes and for the first time he felt he was really looking at Holly Bennett.
“You probably think I’m being a bit of a spoiled brat,” she said. “I mean, you came home because of an unspeakable tragedy, while my parents just retired. Which, at their age—”
“Yes, but most parents don’t retire and head off to a new life and dump their old life on their only child.”
She tilted her head slightly. “I thought you and my parents were friends.”
“We are. I love your folks. But that doesn’t mean I automatically vouch for all their decisions.”
“Did you regret coming back to run your family restaurant? You seem—”
“Happy? I am. Very. And I didn’t necessarily expect to be. Turned out that all my training has benefited me just as much, if not more, in taking over Gallagher’s as it would have if I’d gone off on my own in D.C. like I planned. But I was lucky. I was already heading in a direction very similar to my folks, and their folks before them. It was more a detour down the same path than a whole new journey.”
“If you had come back and hadn’t been happy…would you have stayed anyway?”
“I don’t know. I have the benefit of coming from a very large family. So, it’s possible I’d have trained one of them, or a handful of them, to take over, and I’d have gone back to my original plan of opening a more upscale establishment. They’d have only been a few hours apart, so it’s possible I could have run one and overseen the management of the other.”
“Why didn’t you go ahead and do that anyway? Have your cake and all that?”
He smiled easily. “Because I am happy here. I learned why it was that generations of Gallaghers have cooked and run restaurants, here and in Ireland. It suits me…perhaps more than that other world ever would have. And I still have the training. It’s affected the menu here and there. I get to play a little with things that interest me. So I think I am having my cake.”
She nodded, then fell silent again, apparently lost in thought.
“You know,” he said at length, “you didn’t follow in your parents’ footsteps, in terms of being a shopkeeper, or even in the antiques business, right? Your mom said you are an artist.”
“I’m in advertising.”
Sean knew that, but he also knew that, according to her mom, anyway, it was just what paid the bills. Art was her passion. “No one is going to fault you if you decide this isn’t for you. Your mom—”
“Says she’d be fine with whatever my decision is.”
“Well, then…?”
Holly sighed lightly. “That’s what she says. But it’s not how I feel. Now that I’m here. I know what this meant to her. If she was truly okay with dismantling it, she’d have done so.”
“There’s a difference between being okay with it no longer being here…and quite another to be the one in charge of taking a beloved possession apart, piece by piece. Maybe she simply didn’t have it in her and knew that you being not so emotionally attached might find that easier. I’m not trying to overstep here, but…it’s your legacy to do with as you please, right? Maybe you should just think of it that way. It could be something you find you enjoy…or the sale of it could provide you with the nest egg to pursue your own dreams. Don’t you think your parents would be happy with either outcome?”
She held his gaze for the longest time. “What I think is that I wish I could have this conversation as easily with them as I’m having it with you.”
He smiled. “I know they’re your parents, and nobody knows them better than you do. But if you want an outside friend’s opinion—”
“I think I already have it.” She smiled then. “And it’s appreciated. More than you know.”
“Anytime.”
Time spun out and neither of them moved. Or stopped smiling.
Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the sense of intimacy created by standing in the darkened shop, or the connection he felt they shared, lives being abruptly changed, or simply a childhood of separate but shared memories of growing up in the same town, surrounded by the same things, the same people. Whatever it was, he found himself shifting a step closer. She didn’t move away. And all he could think as he slowly dipped his head toward hers was: Why had it taken half of his life to finally work up the nerve to kiss Holly Bennett?
But just before his mouth could brush hers, she took a small step back. “Sean, I—thank you. For the food. I should probably—” She was looking anywhere but at him.
He touched her jaw, turned her face back to his. “It’s okay. I understand. Long day. I shouldn’t have complicated it further.”
She surprised him then, when her lips quirked a little, before she looked away again.
“What?” he prompted, ducking his head to catch her gaze again.
She paused, then took a breath and said, “There was a time when I’d have died and gone to heaven, just thinking there might have been a moment like…” She gestured between them.
It was such an unexpected comment, Sean didn’t immediately have a response. His body wasn’t nearly as slow on the uptake, however, and moved forward of its own volition. “Wait,” he said, reaching out, touching her arm. “What did you—what?”
He was close enough, even in the shadowed light, to see the color steal into her cheeks, but perhaps it was his own uncustomary clumsiness that gave her the where-withal to reply. “When we were teenagers, I…I guess you could say I had a crush on you.”
“No way.”
Now she laughed. “Are you kidding? Even you aren’t that humble. You know darn well you were the most popular guy in school. If it was female and had a pulse—”
“I’m not being disingenuous. But…you?”
Her eyes widened and she took a big step back. “Wow. Okay, so I know I was dorky and would never give a cheerleader a run for her money, but—”
Belatedly he realized how that had come out. “No, no, that’s not what I—Holly.” He closed the gap between them, then took the box from her hands and set it on the counter. “I watched you every day for…well, it felt like forever. You never looked like you’d give me the time of day. You were so poised, so sure of yourself, so…different from the other girls.”
She snorted. “Right. They could all get a date.”
He turned her face to his again. “Because teenage boys are idiots. Myself included. You have no idea how many times I wanted to say hello to you, but—”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious. And, you’re right, I didn’t have a problem getting dates, but most girls came on to me.”
“Poor popular guy, you,” she said dryly.
“What
