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sight of him. What was it about him that affected her so? He was annoying, to be sure, but it was more than that. Maybe that impossible nature of his reminded her just the tiniest bit of Sean Malone, which was far from a recommendation.

      As if to prove her point about his difficult nature, he immediately bristled at the hint of accusation in her voice. “Kiera, I’ve been running the kitchen quite efficiently for some time now. I don’t need you to tell me how to do it. I believe I’ve mentioned that before.”

      She winced. “More than once,” she said stiffly. And here they went again, off on the wrong foot, just when she’d been trying to convince both Luke and herself that they could manage to get along. “I wasn’t suggesting you don’t know what you’re doing.”

      “Really? Haven’t you made it your role to be Luke’s eyes and ears, when he’s not around?” His gaze narrowed as he watched her busy herself behind the bar. “And now what? Are you taking over bartending, too? Were you not satisfied with meddling in how I run the kitchen? For the past week, you’ve been tossing out suggestions every time you pass through the kitchen door.”

      She stopped in her count of glasses and stared at him in shock. “Are you suggesting that I’m pushing my way into things that are none of my concern? I don’t know what you expect, Bryan. Luke told me it bothered you if I kept silent. Now I’m speaking up too often. You’ll have to excuse me if I’m confused by how to make this work with you.”

      Something that might have been guilt flitted across his face, but she didn’t know him well enough to be sure.

      “I’m only doing what my son-in-law has asked of me,” she reminded him. “If that bothers you, take it up with him.”

      “Oh, believe me, I have.”

      Kiera was taken aback by the flat answer. “You’ve tried to undermine my position here? Why would you do such a thing? Is it your goal to get me fired from my job before I’ve even begun?”

      This time the flush of guilt that spread across his face was undeniable. “No, of course not. Your position is not in question. Luke and Moira want you here. That’s all I need to know.”

      “Then what?”

      “I’ve just tried to clarify what authority you have over what I do.”

      “So it’s a matter of authority, is it? Is it me personally you object to listening to or would it be any woman?” She paused to let her words sink in, then answered her own question. “Wait now. It can’t possibly be that since you’ve no objection to taking Nell’s words to heart or Moira’s. That leaves only one answer. It must be me. Do I grate on your nerves because I hit a little too closely to the truth from time to time and underline some insecurity of yours about your cooking?”

      Bryan looked genuinely distraught by her conclusion, but she was in no mood to be consoled by that. If his patience had worn thin, hers was at an end.

      “Kiera, no. Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s been a bad morning, and it has nothing at all to do with you. I’d been hoping for something, and it didn’t work out. There’s no reason for me to be taking my foul mood out on you. You just happened to appear as I finished taking the call.”

      Something in his voice alerted her that whatever that call had been about, it truly had thrown him off his game. His words were as close to a sincere apology as she’d ever heard from him. And there was no mistaking the hint of despair in his eyes, if she paused long enough to see that and not focus on the temper in his tone.

      She stopped what she was doing, took his coffee cup and refilled it, then looked him in the eye. “Do you want to talk about whatever’s really bothering you? I’m not Luke, but I’m a good listener and I don’t spread tales.”

      A smile flitted across his face at that. “Spoken like a true Irish bartender,” he said.

      “Spoken sincerely,” she countered. “We certainly can’t claim to have reached the status of friends. In fact, we’re coworkers and barely that, but I’d like to help if I can.”

      He seemed taken aback by the offer. “I appreciate that, but there’s nothing you can do. It’s something I’m unlikely to resolve. One of these days I have to accept that.”

      The resignation in his voice reminded her of times in her own past when she’d wanted to give up. Sometimes it had been her own inner strength or a bit of support offered when needed that had gotten her through. She wanted to offer that to him.

      “If it’s important enough, you can’t stop trying, no matter how many dead ends you encounter,” she told him. She thought of how her father had reached out again and again, despite her determined efforts to push him away. No matter how far apart she told herself they were, she’d known if she truly needed him, he would be there. He’d proved it by all he’d done with Moira to get her to Chesapeake Shores when she’d desperately needed to make a change.

      She held Bryan’s gaze and added earnestly, “It’s the trying that will come to matter someday.”

      He sighed. “I want to believe that. I truly do.” He picked up his coffee and headed toward the kitchen. “Thanks for this,” he said, gesturing with the cup. “And for the advice.”

      Kiera watched his retreat and felt something inside her shift. Bryan Laramie was a far more complicated man than she’d ever imagined. And despite every warning bell going off in her head, she couldn’t help being just a tiny bit intrigued.

      * * *

      There was always a natural lull between lunch and dinner at the pub. The waitstaff often changed during that time, with some of their part-time college students heading off to class and others showing up for the evening shift.

      Normally Kiera wanted nothing more during those hours than to put her feet up for a bit, have a strong cup of tea and say not a single word to another soul. Today, though, with her conversation with Bryan still on her mind, she decided to take a chance and see if she could get to the bottom of his mood. Even as she told herself that pressing him was a bad idea, she stepped into the kitchen, only to find it as spotless as if there had never been a lunch rush, and deserted. Since the back door was sitting open, she peered outside and down the alley behind the building. No sign of him there, either. Going off and leaving the kitchen unsecured wasn’t like him, which only worried her more.

      Wherever he’d gone and whatever his reason for it, he shouldn’t have been so careless, she thought with annoyance. She closed the door and turned the lock, then went back into the dining room and settled at a table just inside the door with her tea and a book that wasn’t holding her interest. Her gaze kept straying to the street, but wherever Bryan had gone, he didn’t appear to be in any hurry to get back.

      Not that she intended to question him or even to lecture him on his carelessness. One testy encounter was enough for today. She was just hoping to see what he had to say for himself when he returned to find he couldn’t slip in the same way he’d walked out.

      She’d been staring down the street for a half hour or more when Luke joined her.

      “Everything okay?” he asked.

      “Fine. The lunch hour went smoothly. Will you be wanting me behind the bar again tonight?”

      “No, I can take over. Paul called in, so I’ll need you to help with serving.”

      Her gaze narrowed. “It’s the third time this week he’s called in.”

      “Finals are coming up soon. I think he’s under a lot of pressure to get his grades up. His parents have high expectations for him. He’s the first in the family to go to college. He doesn’t want to let them down.”

      The excuse sounded like one her own sons might use to explain away irresponsibility. “But he has a responsibility to you,” Kiera objected. “That matters, too.”

      “I’ve told him his grades are the most important thing for the moment. And I have you here to take

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