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When they continued down the path, Keegan looked after them. “They’re all of them a bit scuttered, and happy with it.”

“Scuttered?”

“Drunk. A little.” He bit into the biscuit. “And still the lot of them bake like gods.”

When he offered Breen the second half, she shook her head. “I’ll wait. I’ve had Marco’s pozole before, so that’ll come first for me.”

“And what’s this pozole?”

“Incredible,” she assured him.

The minute he walked in the cottage, into the scents, he knew she spoke truth.

“Well now, Marco, it seems you’ve done it yet again.”

“Welcome back!” With his dish towel over his shoulder, Marco came out of the kitchen to give Keegan a solid hug.

“Brother, I’m wet.”

“Then take off your coat. You, too, Breen. Wine or beer?”

“Whatever’s handy,” Keegan told him.

“I’ve got a wine that goes with the pozole, so start there. I hope you’re hungry.”

“If I wasn’t, whatever’s cooking there would change that. A pie as well, I see.”

“Deep-dish apple, with currants. I tried my hand at a flan, too, because pozole. I didn’t want to go head-to-head with Sedric on shortcake biscuits. His are the best, but we’ve got some of his, and some of Finola’s cream cake, Nan’s winter berry tarts. And more. Jesus, what a great day.”

All but babbling, he poured wine while Breen filled the food and water bowls for Bollocks.

“We’re going to do it every month, like a round robin. At Nan’s, at Finola’s, here.”

“This is Sidhe wine,” Keegan said after he drank.

“Finola brought it, said it went with everything.”

“She’s right there. No finer in the whole of Talamh.”

“Tell me. We drank two bottles while we baked. I might just sprout wings. I had thebesttime.”

Breen set the table while they talked, while they drank. She watched Keegan as he leaned against the counter and laughed as Marco recounted the great baking contest. Music played, as she imagined it had all through the afternoon.

She lit candles while Bollocks curled up by the fire for a nap.

They’d share a meal, and likely gorge on pie. Later, Keegan would share her bed, and when he returned from duty, Brian would share Marco’s.

Despite the training and the countless defeats she’d suffered during it, she had to agree, it had been a damn good day.

Like Morena, she’d prize every moment.

CHAPTER TEN

It rained for five full days, pouring and soaking and drenching on both sides of the portal. The roads went to mud; the bays held as leaden gray as the sky.

And the green glowed like polished emeralds.

Keegan rode or flew through it every day, checking portals from west to east and back again. He gave time to Harken and the farm when he had it to spare and consulted with his mother daily through the mirror.


Tags: Nora Roberts Paranormal