Ronan tells Henry that he’s planning to throw a party tonight, and he would love it if he would be able to come to the bar for dinner at the very least to celebrate.

“Are you kidding me? I’m coming right now. You kids hold on a few minutes while I get ready.” His slippers make a whoosh-whoosh sound as he shuffles down the hall.

“I can’t believe he thought I knocked you up.”

I can’t believe he thought Ronan asked me to marry him. “I like that he got all righteous about it.”

“Yeah, well, I think fifty percent of the reason he couldn’t wait to marry my grandma was so he could finally get into her pants, because back in the sixties that was how things went.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s how you think things went. It wasn’t any different than it is now. Teenagers had sex back then just like they do now, only now it’s easier to get contraception and kids actually know that standing up after sex doesn’t prevent pregnancy.”

“Okay, we need to stop talking about sex and teenagers and pregnancy, because it’s sending mixed messages below the waist and I’m having some conflict over that.”

I glance down at his crotch. “Are you aroused?”

“Not fully.” He’s amusingly defensive.

I poke the front of his pants. “You have a semi?”

“You said ‘sex’ twice and ‘contraception,’ and some parts of me don’t realize it doesn’t mean right now.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m excited, about a lot of things, not the least of which is my girlfriend spending the night with me. Tell me you can get Callie to open for you tomorrow. I really want you to celebrate this win with me because it never would have happened without you.”

“I’ll talk to her as soon as we’re back at The Knight Cap.”

“This is as much your win as it is mine.”

“This is yours, Ronan. Don’t feel bad about being excited.”

“I know how much this meant to you, though.”

“And it means a lot to you, too, and to Gramps.” As much as I wanted the win to be mine, I can’t begrudge Ronan this. There’s so much love here. History and connection and family. It’s impossible to compete with that kind of beautiful backstory. “I can’t think of a better way to honor your grandmother’s memory.”

Henry appears in the hallway. “What do ya think? Not too dressy for the occasion, is it?” He tugs on the hem of his suit jacket and I want to burst into tears. Like everything else in this house, it’s a throwback to the nineties, and it’s obvious he’s lost some weight since he put it on last.

“You look perfect, Gramps. You’re gonna knock ’em all out,” Ronan says, his voice breaking.

Henry looks to me and winks. “Blaire, I need a woman’s opinion, not this hipster jackass.”

A half giggle–half sob bubbles up, but I manage to swallow it back down. “You look absolutely dapper.”

“I haven’t worn this suit in a while, but I figured if ever there was a reason to wear the family tartan, this is it.” His smile is huge, and my heart melts for the man who stepped in and brought his grandfather’s bar back to life.

chapter twenty

Don’t Leave Me Hanging

Blaire

The Knight Cap celebration is fantastic.

Ronan stays over at my place afterward and keeps me up until an ungodly hour in the morning. I tamp down my resentment over his peaceful, sleeping form sprawled over my mattress, dead to the world as I tiptoe around my room and try not to trip over our discarded clothes while I get ready for work.

We only have three days left to prepare for the street party, which means I have a lot of things to take care of. I leave Ronan in my bed, ruing my lack of sleep, but aware it’s my own damn fault for staying out until two in the morning and then letting him persuade me to have slightly drunk marathon sex until four. My short sleep seems woefully inadequate right now.

I’m running behind this morning, so I have to rush through decorating today’s cupcakes before B&B opens. I’m grateful that Callie is around to help, because I’m still in decorating mode when the doors open. The shop is bustling with morning customers and people picking up orders. I help Callie get things under control, tragically under-caffeinated for this level of on-the-ball. I can’t say I’m disappointed by the number of customers we have, though. It’s busier than it has been as of late, possibly because of the best bar winner announcement and the Top 10 list Tori posted on its heels.

Once we’re past the initial rush, it slows down until lunch, which means I can start tackling the event prep and the eleven million questions that come with it. I expect Ronan to stop by and say hello, get his cupcake fix, and go over the last-minute stuff we need to get in order for Saturday. Except that doesn’t happen.

I pop over to The Knight Cap after the lunch rush dies down, hoping to touch base with Ronan, but he’s not there. Lars isn’t on until the evening shift and Lana, one of the other bartenders, doesn’t seem to know where Ronan is or when he’ll be in.

I send him a message, asking about an ETA and when we’ll have time to go over any last-minute emergencies. Two hours and another influx of customers later, he still hasn’t responded so I start fielding questions on my own.

It’s almost four in the afternoon by the time he rolls in, looking a hell of a lot more chipper and rested than I feel. “Hey, babe.” He leans over the counter and kisses me on the cheek. He sweeps a thumb across the hollow under my eye. “Sorry I kept you up so late. You hanging in there?”

I fight that melty feeling I always get when he touches me and remind myself I’m kind of annoyed that the day is more than half over and he’s been MIA. “I’m okay. Where have you been?”

“Oh, you know, running around, picking up stuff for the weekend.”

“Did you get my message?”

“Huh?”

“I sent you a message hours ago.” I can feel my irritation building at his less than remorseful expression.

“Really? I must’ve missed it. What’s going on? What do you need?”

I blink at him, trying to figure out why he’s suddenly so…off. Preoccupied? I don’t know what it is, but I find it frustrating. “We have an event in two days. I could’ve used some help fielding questions from all the other local businesses and coordinating with them, but you were nowhere to be found.”

He seems to realize I’m pissed off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I was taking care of last-minute stuff. Who needs questions answered?”

“No one anymore, for now.”

“Fantastic. You’re always so organized. This is going to be smooth sailing until Saturday.” He pats his pocket when his phone starts buzzing. He checks the screen. “I gotta take this. I’ll stop by later.” He kisses me on the cheek again, grabs the cupcake I plated for him—like the sucker I am—and disappears out the front door, his phone at his ear.

He doesn’t stop by later, though. And when I drop by The Knight Cap again to see if he’s around to go over the fine details, I discover that he left a couple of hours ago to take care of some things, according to Lars.