Read The Mighty Quinns: Riley for Free Online Page B

them, nodding as their gazes darted back and forth between Riley and Nan. Conversation would be impossible with three overly interested eavesdroppers. Never mind that the entire village would know the details of the conversation before the end of the day, but they’d no doubt interrupt with questions of their own.
    â€œAren’t you three late for a game of dominoes?” he asked, giving them a pointed glare.
    For a moment, they protested, then realized what Riley was getting at. They quickly jumped up and headed to the door, chatting as they left. Once the door shut behind them, the pub was empty—and quiet. Riley stepped out from behind the bar and walked to the door.After flipping the lock, he dropped the Closed sign in the window.
    â€œDo you always encourage your customers to leave?” Nan asked. “It’s a wonder you’ve been able to stay in business.”
    â€œUnless you want to reveal your darkest secrets to all of County Cork, you should be happy I sent them out,” Riley said, returning to his spot opposite her. He drew Nan a half pint of Guinness and set it in front of her, then circled the bar to sit down next to her. He turned her to face him, trapping her knees between his and smoothing his hands over her thighs. “So, tell me all your deepest and darkest secrets. What do you like to eat for lunch?”
    She picked up her Guinness and took a sip, then wrinkled her nose. “I’m a salad girl,” she said.
    â€œTry the Guinness again,” he said. “It’s an acquired taste.”
    She took another sip. “What kind of salads do you have?”
    â€œKatie!” A few seconds later, the pub’s cook stepped out of the kitchen. “What kind of salads do we have today?”
    â€œWe don’t have salads,” she said. “We’ve got shepherd’s pie, bangers and mash, and corned beef with cabbage and red potatoes. And I’ve a bit of seafood chowder left.”
    â€œThe chowder sounds great,” Nan said. She watched Katie return to the kitchen, then glanced around the pub. “You said your parents owned the pub. Are they here?”
    â€œThey’re off caravanning.” He caught her quizzicallook. “What? Caravanning? They have a big caravan and they drive it places and camp—”
    â€œOh,” she said. “An R.V.? A recreational vehicle. A little home on wheels?”
    â€œYes. They’ll be back in September and then I get back to my regular dissolute life. As a musician, I spend my days writing impossibly bad lyrics and trite tunes and my evenings trying to sing them.”
    â€œI thought you’d cut your own CDs. Are you really that bad?”
    â€œOnly in my own mind,” he said with a chuckle. “I make a decent living. I’ll never be a millionaire, but I pay my bills. And I love what I do.”
    He’d always enjoyed the fact that his profession came with scads of female admirers, a benefit he’d taken advantage of on many occasions. But Riley suspected Nan was not the kind of girl who jumped into bed with a guy just because he played a guitar and sang a pretty song.
    â€œAnd you sing here?”
    â€œEvery Saturday night throughout the summer,” he said. “You’ll have to come see me.”
    â€œI’d expect you have a lot of girls coming to see you,” Nan said.
    â€œNot a one as pretty as you are, Nan Galvin.” He leaned forward to steal a kiss, but before he could, Katie barged through the kitchen door. He waited while she put the crock of soup in front of Nan, along with a plate of sliced homemade bread and butter.
    â€œThank you,” Nan said, giving her a smile.
    â€œCherry tart for dessert,” she said. “Warm from the oven. Can I get you a piece?”
    She grinned. “All right. I’m famished. Bring it on.”
    â€œThat’s the spirit,” Katie said, walking over to the kitchen door.
    Nan dug