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marveled at the intimidating look he saw there. She was a powerhouse. He loved her.
    Patrick had heard enough. Hell would freeze over before he let Conall continue to criticize Sunday.
    “It’s clear you aren’t going to listen to reason. Maybe you need another type of persuasion. I bet your farm boy’s never even kissed you.” Conall grabbed Sunday and took her lips roughly.
    Patrick sprang out of his hiding spot as Sunday shoved against Conall’s shoulders.
    “Stop!” she cried.
    Conall wouldn’t be deterred. His hand grasped Sunday’s breast, squeezing.
    Patrick captured Conall’s wrist and twisted, hard, forcing the man to release Sunday. He shoved Conall farther away.
    It was clear from the shocked look on his enemy’s face, Conall hadn’t expected to be interrupted. “Oh look,” he sneered. “It’s the barkeep. Just in time, too. I’m parched. Go fetch me an ale.”
    Patrick reacted without thought. He punched Conall in the face, following with a solid blow to the gut. Conall dropped like a sack of potatoes.
    “How dare you lay a hand on her!” Patrick shouted. “Didn’t you hear her say ‘stop’? What’s wrong, rich boy? Hasn’t anyone ever said no to you before?”
    Sunday’s hand landed on his arm. Patrick stiffened. “Pat. It’s okay. I’m fine.”
    Patrick wasn’t soothed. “No, Sunday. It’s not.”
    Conall staggered to his feet and Patrick thought the man was going take a few swings of his own. Patrick had broken up more than his fair share of barroom brawls. He had no doubt he could handle one spoiled college boy.
    He gestured for Conall to step closer. “Come on, Conall. I’ve been waiting a lifetime for this.”
    Conall paused, his gaze traveling from Patrick to Sunday and back again. “Fuck it,” he said at last. “She’s not worth it.”
    Patrick’s world went red. “You stupid bastard. You’ve spent your entire life placing value on the wrong things. Sunday is priceless . You’re going to realize that one day and you know what?”
    “What?” Conall spat belligerently, rubbing his jaw.
    “It’ll be too late.”
    Conall studied Patrick’s face for a long time. Then he shrugged. “It was too late before it started. Take her, Pat. You two deserve each other.” Conall staggered away, his last words meant to be an insult.
    Patrick didn’t take them as one. He turned to face her. “I’m sorry, Sunday.”
    She frowned then rolled her eyes. “Sorry? For what part, Pat? The part where you pulled that asshole off me? Or maybe when you said I was priceless? Is that what you’re sorry about?”
    He shook his head. “No.”
    “Did you mean it?”
    “Christ, lass. Do you really have to ask? You’re a treasure beyond measure, but Conall was right. What can I give you that will show you how much you mean to me?”
    “Your heart. Give me your heart, Pat. It’ll be more than enough.”
    He leaned forward and pressed his brow against hers, shutting his eyes tightly. “You have that. You’ll always have that. I love you, Sunday.”
    Sunday reached up and placed her hands on Patrick’s face. She waited until he opened his eyes to look at her. “And I love you.”
    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
     
    “Yes!” Riley stood up and high-fived Sean across the coffee table.
    Patrick chuckled at his youngest daughter’s exuberant response. “I assume this means you approve of the happy ending?”
    “Hell yeah. You punched that coward twice! That was totally cool, Pop.” Riley resumed her seat on the couch.
    “So whatever happened to Conall Brannagh?” Ewan asked.
    “Ah, well, that’s a story in itself. He took the fancy job in New York, but he couldn’t cut it as a high-powered business executive. He was fired before the end of the first year and returned to Killarney, where he managed to run his family’s businesses into bankruptcy in less than a decade. Now he’s the barkeep at Scully’s.”
    Teagan’s eyes widened. “Really?”
    Patrick’s grin grew. “No. Not really. Last