He was swamped. There'd been a step-dance exhibition at the school that evening, and it seemed half the village had decided to drop into Gallagher's afterward to hoist a pint. Several of the young girls had changed back into their dancing shoes to reprise the show for his customers.

It made for a happy sound, and a full pub.

He was pulling pints with both hands, holding three conversations at once and manning the till. He wanted to shoot himself for giving Darcy the day off.

Shawn slipped in and out of the kitchen as time allowed and lent a hand at the bar and with the serving. But he'd get caught up in the dancing and forget to come back as often as not.

"It's not a bleeding party," Aidan reminded him, again, when Shawn strolled back behind the bar.

"Sure it sounds like one to me. Everyone's happy enough." Shawn nodded to the crowd that circled three dancers. "The Duffy girl's the best of the lot, to my thinking. She's got a way with her."

"Leave off watching them, would you, and get down to the other end of the bar."

The abrupt tone only made Shawn smile. "Missing your lady, are you? Can't blame you for it. She's a sweetheart."

Aidan sighed and pa.s.sed br.i.m.m.i.n.g gla.s.ses into eager hands. "I haven't time to miss anything when I'm up to my a.s.s in beer."

"Well, then, that's a pity, as she just walked in and looking fresh and pretty as a dewdrop despite the hour," Shawn added when Aidan's head whipped around.

He'd tried not to think of her. In fact, he'd made a concerted effort on it, mostly to see if he could manage it. He'd done fairly well, only finding himself distracted by thoughts of her a couple dozen times that day.

Now here she was, with her hair bound back and her smile all for him. By the time she'd squeezed her way to the bar, her smile was a laugh, and he'd forgotten about the Guinness he was building.

"What's going on?" She had to lift her voice to a near shout and lean in close, so close that he caught her scent, the mystery of it that lingered on her skin.

"A bit of a party, it seems. I'll get you some wine when I've got a free hand." He'd rather have used that free hand, both hands, to s.n.a.t.c.h her up, haul her over the bar, and gather her in.

You're well and truly hooked, Gallagher, he thought, and decided he rather enjoyed the sensation.

"Did you have a fine time in Dublin, then?"

"Yes, a wonderful time. I bought everything that wasn't nailed down. And if I started to resist, Darcy talked me into it."

"She's good at spending money," Aidan began, then caught himself. "Darcy? She's back. Oh, thank the Lord. Another pair of hands might get us through the rest of the night without a riot."

"You can have mine."

"Hmm?"

"I can take orders." The idea took root in her head and bloomed. "And serve."

"Darling, I can't ask you to do that." He shifted as someone elbowed to the bar to order pints and gla.s.ses and fizzy water.

"You're not asking. And I'd like it. If I bungle it, everyone will just think the Yank's a bit slow, then you can call Darcy."

"Have you ever waitressed before?" He gave her an indulgent smile that instantly put her back up.

"How hard can it be?" she snapped back and to prove her point, turned and muscled her way toward one of the little tables to get started.

"Didn't take a pad or a tray." Aidan looked at his customer for sympathy as he filled the order. "And if I was to call Darcy now, that one would have my head for breakfast."

"Women," he was told, "are dangerous creatures at the best of times."

"True enough, true enough, but that one is normally of a calm nature. That's five pounds eight. And," he continued as he took the money and made change, "it's the ones with the calm natures who can cut your throat the quickest when riled."

"You're a wise man, Aidan."

"Aye." Aidan took a breath in a moment's lull. "Wise enough not to call Darcy and have two females bashing at me."

Still, he figured it wouldn't take Jude more than a quarter hour to realize she was over her head. She was a practical woman, after all. And later he could smooth her feathers by saying it was a rare night in the pub in any case, and how thoughtful it had been of her to offer to help, and so on and so forth until he got her naked and in bed.

Pleased with the image, Aidan served the next cheerfully. And he had a smile waiting for Jude as she wove her way back to the bar. "I'll get you that wine now," he began.

"I don't drink on the job," she said smartly. "I need two pints of Harp and a gla.s.s of Smithwick's, two whiskeys, um, Paddy's, two c.o.kes, and a Baileys." She offered a smug smile. "And I could use one of those little ap.r.o.ns if you have one handy."

He started the order, cleared his throat. "Ah, you don't know the prices."

"You have a list of them, don't you? Put them in the ap.r.o.n. I can add, and quite well, too. If you have a tray, while you're filling that order, I can clear off some of the empties before they end up broken on the floor."

A quarter hour, he thought again, and dug out a menu, an ap.r.o.n, laid them both on a tray and pa.s.sed it over. "It's kind it is of you to pitch in, Jude Frances."

She lifted her brows. "You don't think I can do it.'' With this, she flounced away.

"Does it hurt?" Shawn asked from behind him.

"What?"

"Shoehorning your foot in your mouth that way. I bet it cracks the jaw something fierce." He only snickered when Aidan jabbed him sharply, elbow into ribs. "She has a way with her, too," he added, watching as Jude cleared off one of the low tables and chatted with the family who sat there. "I'd be happy to take her off your hands if-"

He trailed off, a little daunted by the vicious look Aidan shot at him. "Just joking," he muttered and slipped back to the other end of the bar.

Jude came back, began unloading the empties, loading the first order. "A pint and a gla.s.s of Guinness, two Orangeens, and a cup of tea with whiskey."

Before Aidan could speak, she'd hefted the tray, just unsteadily enough to make him hold his breath, and moved off to serve.

She was having the time of her life. She was in the middle of it all, part of it all. Music and movement and shouted conversation and laughter. People called her by name and asked how it was all going. No one seemed the least surprised that she was taking orders and emptying ashtrays.

She knew she didn't have Darcy's graceful efficiency and style, but she was handling it. And if she'd almost poured a pint of beer on Mr. Duffy, the operative word was "almost." He'd caught it himself with a wink and grin and said he'd sooner have it in him than on him.

She managed the money, too, and didn't think she made any important mistakes. In fact, one of her ap.r.o.n pockets was bulging with tips that had her glowing with pride.

When Shawn breezed by and swung her into a quick dance, she was too surprised to be embarra.s.sed. "I don't know how."

"Sure you do. Will you come by and play my music again, Jude Frances?"

"I'd like that. But you have to let go. I'm running out of breath and stepping all over your feet."

"If you were to give me a kiss, you'd have Aidan boiling with jealousy."