How I’d love to be welcomed into the fold of a family like this. At least I think I would. I’ve seen how Lachlan commands things with Fiona. He’s the leader of the house, and I’m not sure I like that. Keenan’s no exception, as Clan Chief. These men are old-fashioned and principled. I know they do… some things… outside the law, but in Ballyhock, they’re revered.
I watch Fiona and Lachlan take their vows, and for one brief moment, my reservations about the McCarthy clan are forgotten. He looks at her with utter devotion in his eyes. I don’t miss the way Carson holds Megan’s hands during the vows, or the way Keenan tightens his arm around his own wife’s shoulders. Clan matriarch Maeve, mother to Keenan and a few of the brothers, wipes tears from her eyes when the newlyweds kiss for the first time.
I have no gran who’ll cry at my wedding. I’ll have no brothers or sisters in my wedding party. I have none of the riches Fiona has now.
Oh, she looks lovely, like an angel on earth, with her gossamer dress and vibrant red hair, fair skin, and bright eyes. I want to kiss her myself. Lachlan tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, leans in, and kisses her forehead.
That’s it. No matter what I once thought of the man, he loves my friend, and I have to love him for that.
The reception’s a magnificent affair, right on the grounds of the mansion. A large tent’s set up, tables laden with delectable food, and music filters through speakers. A fountain bubbles over with bubbly beside a table set with crackers, cheese, and antipasto. My stomach growls with hunger, so I fill my plate. Megan waves me over to a table, and I gratefully take my seat.
“This is delicious, I say with a groan. The crackers are light and buttery, the cheese tangy and creamy, the cured meats and olives some of the best I’ve ever had.
“Oh, aye,” Megan says, taking hearty bites herself. “Nolan knows some people in Spain.”
I stifle a snort. Of course they’d have Spanish food imported for an event like this. “Have you tried the hot hors d'oeuvres yet?”
I shake my head, and Megan waves down one of the waitstaff. My eyes go wide at silver trays of stuffed mushrooms, little squares of spanakopita, and tiny little meatballs with toothpicks in them.
“I won’t have an appetite for much else if I eat this,” I say to Megan, but her gaze is at the entrance to the garden.
“Ah, the couple arrives,” she says, and stands. We cheer and hoot and holler as Mr. and Mrs. Lachlan McCarthy are introduced. Then the couple takes their first dance.
“Go,” Megan says to me.
I look at her, startled. “Excuse me?”
“Go,” she whispers, gesturing toward Tiernan. “He needs a dance partner, and you don’t want that stupid twat Leesa to get him, do you?”
That “stupid twat” was a friend of mine I had lost touch with. I snort.
“What do you have against Leesa?”
Megan rolls her eyes. “She knows everything there is to know, that’s what. Stuck up little thing. I don’t want her near Tiernan.”
My brows rise. “Really?”
“Really,” Megan says. “Now get on over there, and I bet he’ll ask you to dance.”
I frown at her. “And if he doesn’t?”
Megan groans. “I’ll kick his arse.”
Sure she will.
I get up at her prompting and walk over to him tentatively. Some of the other men of the Clan are dancing, but Tiernan watches them all, his eyes sharp and stern.
“Hello, Tiernan.”
He turns and looks at me as if for the first time. He blinks, then drags his gaze down from my eyes to my dress, then quickly back up again.
“Aisling. You look lovely tonight.”
He turns his gaze away. I don’t know if I’m pleased or not.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice wavering a little. “Are you… going to dance?” I ask him, immediately wishing I could take it back. This is not how this was supposed to go.
“I don’t dance…” he begins, then follows it with a shrug, “much.”
I nod. “I don’t either, but Megan said I should come over and ask you.”
I’ll throw her under the bus then.
He looks to me, his expression changing. A corner of his lips quirks up. “Did she?”
He looks over his shoulder at Megan, who’s gesturing madly and making motions for us to go to the dance floor.
“She’s crazy,” I mutter.
“Absolutely mad,” he agrees with a chuckle. Then he sighs. “Suppose it couldn’t hurt.”
I look at him in surprise. “Well, don’t act like you’re doing me a favor,” I snap. The nerve! I turn to walk away, ignoring Megan, when I feel his hand on my arm.
My reaction’s instant. It’s the first time he’s ever touched me. His touch is warm, possessive, and insistent, sending frissons of awareness and a tingle of excitement straight through me. My eyes widen as I look to him.