Lilac Lane (Chesapeake Shores #14)(14)

It was Megan who caught sight of her first.

“Oh my, look at you,” she said, coming over to clasp Kiera’s icy hands. “You look fabulous, Kiera.” She turned to the rest of the family. “Doesn’t she?”

“I would hardly have recognized you,” Mick said. “I like the new hairstyle. It becomes you.”

Jo beamed. “I need someone to take me in hand, as Moira did for you. I haven’t had a makeover in years and I am in sad need of one. Being on the athletic field at the high school all day long wreaks havoc with my skin and my hair. Kiera, you’re putting all of the O’Brien women to shame with this new look of yours.” She grinned at Megan. “Well, perhaps not her. Megan has always been stylish from head to toe.”

“It’s those trips to Paris I insist Mick take me on,” Megan replied. “I sit in cafés and observe what the French women are wearing, then adapt it for Chesapeake Shores. I think I’ve learned to knot scarves in at least twenty different ways.”

“And I always thought there was only one way,” Jo said ruefully.

Kiera was happy to have their attention diverted from her for the moment and fascinated by the teasing between the sisters-in-law. It continued to astonish her how well the O’Briens meshed as a family, despite differences in styles, opinions and personalities.

Luke beckoned Kiera over to the bar. “I need a closer look at this transformation,” he said. “Is this the same woman I saw polishing my bar just last night?”

“Okay, okay,” Kiera said, laughing at last. “I’m flattered by all the attention, but I wouldn’t mind a pint of ale right about now. Is the service in here falling apart without me on the job?”

“Happy to oblige,” Luke said at once. “And what about some dinner? You and Moira must be starved after your long day. The special tonight is shepherd’s pie.”

One of my favorites, Kiera thought to herself. She couldn’t help wondering if Bryan had the knack for it, since it hadn’t been on the menu since her arrival.

“You stay right here,” she told Luke. “I’ll get plates for myself and Moira.”

Before he could stop her, she walked around the bar and entered the kitchen. “Two shepherd pie dinners,” she called out.

Bryan’s head swiveled so quickly in her direction, she was surprised it didn’t make him dizzy. Then his mouth gaped in a most startling and complimentary way.

“Kiera?” he said, his voice oddly choked.

“Yes. Who else would be barging into the kitchen like this?”

His gaze narrowed. “You look different.”

“After the money Moira spent today, I would hope so,” she said tartly, then gave him a hesitant look. “Is it a good difference?”

His lips curved slightly at the apparent hint of insecurity in her voice. “You look softer, more approachable,” he said, though he sounded as if that was more troublesome than it should have been.

“Ten years younger, that’s what the stylist claimed,” she said. “Of course, she wanted to be sure of a tip.”

“I don’t know about that,” Bryan said. “You looked fine before.” He seemed to be fumbling for words. “But don’t all women want to look younger?”

Kiera studied him curiously. There was something oddly charming about his obvious nervousness. Usually he was brusque to the point of rudeness. If there was something about her look tonight, there was also something very different in Bryan’s reaction to her. She wished she could put her finger on it, but perhaps it was better that she couldn’t put a name to it. That might shift the nervousness straight to her.

*

“What took you so long?” Moira asked when Kiera finally returned to take her seat at the bar.

“Bryan wasn’t giving you a rough time, was he?” Luke asked worriedly. “Or you him?”

“Not at all,” Kiera said, placing two plates of shepherd’s pie on the bar. It looked just fine, and the aroma was as tempting as any she’d eaten before. “I’m anxious to give this a try. Moira, have a taste and see if it’s like what we get back home.”

“I’ve had it before,” Moira said. “It’s as delicious as any I’ve ever had, except perhaps that you’ve made yourself. The only dish you make that’s any better is your Irish stew. I have to warn you, though, Bryan’s Irish stew has become a favorite here. He takes great pride in it, as does Nell, who taught him how to make it.”

Leaving the Irish stew debate for another time, Kiera took a bite of the shepherd’s pie and nodded, pleasantly surprised that it seemed authentic. Not bad for a man who’d once been making sandwiches in a deli.

“Does it pass muster?” Luke asked.

“It does,” Kiera said. “It’s quite good, in fact.”

“And will you tell Bryan that yourself? I know it would please him.”

“Bryan’s ego needs no boost from me,” Kiera said, not sure why the thought of praising his cooking felt too much like eating crow.

Luke kept his gaze on her steady. “For the sake of harmony,” he suggested.

“Fine, then,” she said grudgingly. “I’ll tell him.” She rose to do just that before she lost the will, but Luke waved her back to her seat.