“I don’t need to know everything. I just need to
know where to find it when I need it.” – Albert Einstein

Chapter 1

Kira Delaney was interested in one thing and one thing only – how to steal one of the scones that had been delivered in a care package for her mother, Aislinn. The basket brimmed with pastries, all but taunting her from the counter of her mother’s gallery, and the lovely scent of cinnamon wafted her way as she drifted closer. Still warm, Kira thought as she shot a glance to the front window of the gallery. Gracie had already left for the pub, so Kira should be in the clear. 

She reached out, then paused as her phone buzzed on the counter. Kira picked it up and rolled her eyes. 

Don’t you eat that scone. 

I have no idea what you are talking about. 

Nice try. Take them to your mother. I magicked them so if anyone else eats them without her permission, they’ll get sick. 

You wouldn’t dare. 

Okay, fine – try one. 

“Damn it.” Kira slammed the phone down and glared at the basket of scones. In all likelihood, Gracie was lying. But did she want to chance that and risk spending the afternoon in the bathroom? 

“Bloody magickal women. The power goes straight to their head.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t realize anyone was in here.” Kira turned as she spoke, a shiver going down her neck, as she was someone who was typically quite aware of her surroundings. In more ways than one.

“I didn’t mean to be startling you. I just wasn’t sure if you were speaking to me.” The man gave her a disarmingly sweet smile, his dark hair curling from beneath the knit cap he wore. Kira’s senses stood at attention as his clear blue eyes met hers, and a lazy, languid warmth slid through her. Well, hello, she thought. The last thing she would have expected was to find a handsome man wandering a town where she knew everyone by name. 

“I wasn’t, at that. I was cursing my wily friend who has gone and dropped off some scones for my Mam and insisted that I can’t have one for my own tasting.” 

“That’s downright cruel, it is.” The smile deepened in the handsome man’s face and so did Kira’s interest. Maybe there would be some enticing distractions to be found in little Grace’s Cove over the next six months. 

Kira’s mother had recently torn a ligament in her knee and needed surgery. Unsure what to do with her gallery, Aislinn had asked if Kira would be interested in running it. Kira’s photography career afforded her a flexible schedule so she had been happy to help, though she was certain her father had weaseled a few extra months from her so he could get a vacation out of it. He planned to whisk Aislinn away for an easy holiday in Portugal; she could paint by the beach during her recovery, and Baird could make sure she didn’t overdo it. 

It was Kira’s first week reporting for duty, and already she was overwhelmed by how much was involved in running Aislinn’s gallery. That must explain why she’d not even noticed there was a customer in the store – and a handsome one at that.

“It is. And I swear she can read minds. I was just about to sample one – just to be making sure they’re tasty for Mam – and she messaged me to keep my paws off. You’d think she was spying on me.” Kira leaned against the counter and shot the man a wide grin.

“Or perhaps just good instincts. It’s hard to resist the smell, I’ll admit.” 

“If you’ve a hankering for good scones, I suggest the café at the end of this street. They do a lovely pot of tea and clotted cream with the scones – you can’t go wrong.” 

“I’ll take that recommendation. The weather looks to be turning moody again, so I won’t get further with any of my plans for the day.” 

“Traveling through, are you?”

“Not particularly.” The man smiled at her, then turned to a rack of postcards featuring prints of her Mam’s works. “I’ll take a few of these and be on my way before the rain hits.” 

“Three for ten.” Kira nodded at the rack and turned, her curiosity piqued. His aura – a rich blue with hints of green – suggested he was a man she would absolutely be interested in getting involved with. However, his non-answer to her question was slightly troubling. 

Shrugging it off, Kira rounded the counter and stood by the cash register so the man could pay for his purchases before the clouds unloaded their burden. 

“This is a nice gallery.” 

“Thank you. It’s my Mam’s. Aislinn is her name and she’s the artist of these fine portraits you’re buying postcards of.” Kira tapped the postcards before sliding them into a small brown paper bag. 

“Ah. I thought you might be the artist.” 

“I am an artist, but in a different medium.” Kira smiled at him, leaving out any more information. After all, he hadn’t been particularly forthcoming with his own details. 

“I’m sure whatever you create must be equally as charming.” The man glanced to the windows where the sky had grown darker. “That’s me off, then. Now, you’ve got my mind on scones. A pot of tea will do just the trick. Have a nice afternoon.” 

“Same to you…” Kira let her voice trail off into a question, but the man didn’t offer his name. Instead, he hunched into his raincoat as the first few drops splattered to the pavement.

She looked down at the banknote he’d given her. If she wanted, Kira could close her hand around it to see what insights it would give her on the man who had just held it. It was one of her gifts, passed down to her along with a few other more notable traits; it also tended to be one of the trickier tools at her disposal. Particularly where money was concerned. She’d not only pick up on the man who had just touched the money, but also several people before him. An item that passed through too many hands could give a very inaccurate reading.  

“I hope he sticks around,” Kira said out loud to the empty gallery as the skies opened up and rain tumbled down. She could do with a distraction or two, and a very delicious-looking man with a good aura would serve nicely.

Chapter 2

“Sure and that girl is just trying to fatten me up now that I’m off my feet.” Looking every inch a ‘girl’ herself, aside from the threads of grey that ran through her hair, Aislinn studied the basket Kira presented her with. 

“True. Better not have any then.” Kira turned, bringing the basket with her, and smiled when Aislinn let out a wistful sigh. “Just admit you want one, Mam.” 

“Well, I suppose I do want one. It’s tremendously hard to say no to fresh-baked goods. But maybe you can share with me? That way, I won’t eat them all.”

“If I must, I must.” Kira plopped down on a cushioned velvet chair in a deep mossy green color and handed her mother a scone from the basket, along with a little plate. The bedside lamp, its shade done up in stained glass, cast a rainbow of color across the navy-blue wall. Aislinn lived her life immersed in colors, and that had translated to her decorating style as well. Kira, having inherited some of her mother’s traits, was also drawn to color, but she enjoyed the stark contrast of black and white for her portrait photography. The absence of color could sometimes be as startling as its presence.

“You must,” Aislinn ordered with a smile, and Kira finally picked up her scone and took a bite. 

“How’s the knee?”

“You’d think I was an invalid,” Aislinn hissed. “Not only did the surgery go well, but I had Gracie and Keelin up here doing their magick on me. I think my knee is stronger than it was when I was twenty.” 

“Likely so,” Kira laughed, “but you know how everyone likes to fuss.” 

“I’m going out of my mind, I am,” Aislinn said.

“Dad not letting you out yet?”

“I could run circles around the man. Where has he gotten off to now anyway?” 

“Um, I think just to the shops,” Kira lied easily, fully aware that Baird was likely having a pint at Gallagher’s Pub. 

“He’s not to the shops. He’s at the pub. And it’s because I’m being a miserable twit, is why. I can barely stand myself, so I don’t blame the man for sidling away for a nip of whiskey here and there.” 

“You’re not used to taking it slow.” Kira reached over and squeezed her mother’s arm. “It’s totally understandable.” 

“That’s enough of me whining. Tell me how things are at the gallery.” 

“Today was slow, but that’s just the weather and the time of year. Online orders are up thirty percent from last month.”

“People are spending their Christmas money.” 

“That’s my thoughts. Have you considered gift baskets for when tourist season starts?”

“Gift baskets? With art prints?”

“Well, you know, maybe more like a local artisan gift basket. You can add some of your jewelry, some pottery, some knitting – that kind of stuff. Not only would they get a beautiful piece of art, but also a few other pieces from around Grace’s Cove. You could wrap it all nicely, maybe make little tags with a ‘Grace’s Cove Artisan’ logo, something like that.”

Aislinn had already grabbed a sketch pad from her bedside table, and her pencil dashed across the page. 

“Something like this?”

Kira leaned over and peered at the image: an interlocking G and C, with a sprig of clover beneath it. “Perfect. It might be a way for someone to get all of their shopping done in one go.” 

“I like it. You’re good for the business.” Aislinn set the sketch pad down and studied her daughter. 

Kira knew that look in her mother’s eyes. “I’m not taking over the galleries for you.” 

“And why not? They’re quite successful, you know.” The gallery in Grace’s Cove wasn’t Aislinn’s only shop; she had a few smaller galleries scattered around Ireland. 

“I do know. Which is why Morgan kicks so much arse in running them, and running them well. I’m not a businesswoman, Mam.” 

“Well, now, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. You run a lovely business. Your services are in high demand. And you’ve got quite the social media following, not to mention a gorgeous website.” 

“Yes – as a one-woman show. It’s too much hassle managing employees and multiple locations. I like my freedom of movement.” 

“What about just one location then?”

“Mam.” Kira sighed. “You know I like to travel.” 

“So travel then. You can hire people to watch the gallery.” 

“Like you did?”

“Well, it’s a bit different for me.” Aislinn pushed herself further up the bed. “I’m the artist. Much of my time needed to be creating, which meant I had to be here. But you could still travel. You’d need to, anyway, to bring back more photographs to sell.” 

Kira had built a solid reputation in the world of photography, if she did say so herself. She’d covered everything from portraits of dignitaries and rock stars to animals in the wilds of Africa. It was tough for her to stick to one subject, and her propensity for moving between interests had actually strengthened her reputation as a versatile and flexible photographer. At this point, she was able to pick and choose her gigs, and she was always changing her plans based on her mood. It had led to a fluid and interesting life, and not one she was certain she was ready to change to man the helm at her mother’s gallery in small-town Grace’s Cove.

“I won’t lie. It’s always nice to come home,” Kira admitted. 

“See? You love it here.” 

“The people I love are here,” Kira said. “That’s a little different.” 

“I think if you gave Grace’s Cove a chance as an adult, you’d be falling in love with it. Aren’t you tired of living out of a suitcase? Don’t you want someplace to settle, even if it is just a home base of sorts?”

“I’ll admit, traveling does get tiring. There are moments where I wish for nothing more than the comforts of home. But!” Kira held up a finger. “I think those are also moments that I learn a lot about myself.” 

“You can learn about yourself here. Oh, Kira. Aren’t you lonely?”

“That… well, the truth of it is… yes, at times my life is a bit lonely. Though I’ve made friends around the world.” Kira didn’t elaborate that ‘friends’ often meant lovers.

“I wasn’t keen on that last friend of yours.” Aislinn leveled a look at her daughter. 

“Jax?” Kira kicked her feet out onto the bed and let out a dreamy sigh, mainly to cover the ache in her heart that still surfaced when she thought of him. Despite having worked with many a rock star in the past, she’d fallen for him – and fallen hard. She’d been certain she was different than the other groupies and that Jax had really cared for her. Perhaps he had, as much as he could care about anyone other than himself, but being an afterthought was not a role that Kira was interested in filling.

“Yes. The rock star who thinks so highly of himself.” Aislinn sniffed, her disdain clear. 

“He’s good at his work.” 

“And a shite human to others.” 

“Ah, well,” Kira said, “I suppose you’ve the right of it there. I wish I’d seen it sooner, but I was mesmerized for a bit. Not as long as some of his other groupies, at least. But it pains me to admit how much I fell for him.” 

“That’s a good thing, though.” 

Kira laughed at her mother. “How so?” 

“I think we all need a bit of heartbreak in our lives. The sharpness of that loss defines our path forward. It clears the cobwebs from our vision, helping us to see what we want for our future.” 

“That’s a nice way of looking at it. I think I’m a bit embarrassed as well. As a photographer, I’m meant to be objective, not to fall for my subject.” 

“Art is nothing without heart. You’re being too hard on yourself. Because if it had worked out and he was the mad love of your life, then you’d be saying it was all meant to be. The point is…you gave it a go. And that’s more important than anything. Never turn your back on a chance at love.” 

“You weren’t saying that about Danny O’Sullivan.” 

“Ach, that lad was a mess and you and I both knew it.” Aislinn tossed her curls over her shoulder. “A man who preferred a woman in her place and a pint in his hand. He’d never have made a good partner for you.” 

“No, I knew that too. But I enjoyed the flirtation.” 

“Thank goddess it never went any further than that.”

“I never stayed around long enough. That’s the point – my career doesn’t leave me a lot of time for a relationship.”  

“I understand. But traveling like that must become tiring at some point. You’ve worked so hard for so many years… you’ve proven yourself as an artist. Over and over. Isn’t it time to take a break and see what staying in one spot would feel like for you?”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing right now? I’ll be here for months while you’re gone.” 

“Sure and you choose to do this when I’m not around to spend the time with you,” Aislinn grumbled, and took a bite of her scone.

“Well, don’t go to Portugal then. I’ll still stay here.” 

“Really? Hmmm…” Aislinn drifted away and Kira knew she was thinking about sunny beaches and delicious food. 

“See? Take your holiday, Mam. You’ve earned it. How about this? I’ll stay on for a bit longer once you’re home so we get a proper amount of mother-daughter time.” 

“Promise?”

“Of course. You’re right, I absolutely can take the time to slow down for a bit.” 

“You should explore around here more. Our wilds. We have some amazing spots for photography. You grew up wandering these hills. It might be nice to revisit them now that you’ve gained a new perspective.” 

“That’s something I might just do. I do love our hills. Though… probably not today,” Kira said with a laugh and a glance at the rain-lashed windows. 

“No. Today is best spent on drawing. Let’s figure out how the gift baskets could look. I need something to do with my energy.”

“Of course.” Kira bent to the notepad, and together they drifted the afternoon away.

Chapter 3

She’d certainly left an impression. 

Brogan McCarthy looked up from a recent study on land-use management and stared out the window at the pouring rain for the tenth time since he’d left the little gallery down the road. The woman at the shop had been right – not only did this café have excellent scones, but with a cheerful fire in the corner, lilting music in the background, and moody seascapes on the walls, it also provided a cozy haven from the rain. A variety of sitting spaces, with mismatched chairs and tables, made it feel like walking into someone’s living room and being invited to stay for tea. 

It was the perfect spot to settle in for the rest of the afternoon and go over some necessary paperwork, but Brogan couldn’t bring himself to focus. And that was unusual, he thought, pushing the study back in its folder. Leaning back in the cozy armchair he’d chosen by the fire, he kicked his legs out and studied the rain falling in sheets outside the large front window. Periodically, a brave soul would wander past the window, head ducked and shoulders hunched, but for the most part, his view of the sea was unencumbered. The water was foreboding today, reflecting the stormy grey skies, and little white caps tipped the waves of the churning water. Fishing boats, moored for the day, were a burst of color in an otherwise morose picture. 

Brogan loved it. He loved the sea as much as he did the land, and embraced nature in all its moody glory. If he didn’t have paperwork to deal with, it was likely he’d be out in the rain, stomping through the hills and losing his thoughts to study the natural world. 

But for now, his mind kept being drawn back to the lovely lass he’d met at the gallery. Too shy to ask for her name, he’d stumbled from the gallery feeling warmed from within – after only a few moments in her presence. 

A lightning bolt, Brogan decided. That’s what the woman was. When he’d turned and seen her at the counter, cursing at her phone, a flash of heat had struck him. A study in contrasts, the woman had worn leather pants with a wool sweater, her hair tumbling wildly about, with cool green eyes and warm red lips begging to be kissed. 

Brogan shook his head and laughed at himself. Where had such a fanciful thought come from? As an environmental scientist, he wasn’t much for flights of fancy. Instead, he stuck to studying the natural world, and he liked it when things made sense. This woman seemed like she would disrupt the natural order of things. 

And yet…

He should’ve asked for her name, but he’d been too shy to make much more than basic polite conversation before he’d hustled himself out the door. Maybe one of these days, he’d wander back down to the gallery and see if he could talk her into having a drink with him. At that thought, Brogan outright laughed at himself. He was about as good at wooing women as he was at painting – both of which left a lot to be desired. It wasn’t that he wasn’t confident in who he was or what he wanted out of life – he was just a quiet sort. Brogan preferred roaming the hills and communing with nature to hitting the party scene. He’d learned, though, that women were naturally drawn to He Who Commanded The Most Attention – a title Brogan would happily leave to someone else. 

“Having a laugh with your demons?”

Brogan looked up to see a man appraising him with smiling eyes and just enough scruff on his face to warrant calling it a beard. 

“I suppose I am at that,” Brogan admitted. 

“This seat taken?” The man gestured to the armchair on the other side of the fire. 

“All yours.” 

“Thanks. Nice day to hunker in.” 

“That it is. Though I’d prefer to be out in it,” Brogan admitted. “I’m Brogan.”

“Liam. You new to town? Or just traveling through?”

“A bit of both. I’ll be staying here for a while until I figure a few things out. Then…” Brogan spread his hands wide in front of him. “We’ll see.” 

“A man after me own heart. Though I’m much more settled these days. Careful, this town has a way of digging her hooks into you until you want to call it home.” 

“From what I can see, it’s not such a bad place to live.” 

“Where’s home for ye?” Liam smiled as the server brought him an Irish coffee in a tall glass with thick cream at the top. 

“Not too far down the way – Kinsale.” 

“That’s a lovely spot, it is. Arguably as lovely as here, actually.” 

“It is. But when you’ve known it for much of your life, it’s always good to explore. I’ve spent the last years in Dublin, though. I’m ready to be out of the city again.” 

“I like cities, I truly do. But only for a visit, that’s the truth of it. I’m a man of the water, and prefer the small quarters of a ship over the confinement of a city. If that makes sense.”

“Sure, because the boat is always moving and the ocean is vast.”

“That’s exactly it.” Liam jabbed a finger in the air. “Cities feel like they close in around me.” 

“I’m much the same, I’ll admit. It’s the land I’m needing, not another shop.” 

“Exactly. So, Brogan, what’s on your list to explore here?”

“Largely the land. But I’d also like to try a few restaurants in the village here, as well. My cooking will get old quickly.”  

“As you should. Well, welcome you are, then. We’re a small village at that. You’ll know everyone’s name in a matter of weeks, I’m sure of it.” 

“Doubtful,” Brogan laughed. “I have a tendency to keep to myself.” 

“By choice? Or habit?”

“A bit of both, I suppose.” Brogan took a bite of his scone, letting the blueberry flavor settle on his tongue as he thought it over. “I don’t need a lot of social interaction to be happy. I’m content with my work so long as I can get into nature.” 

“We all need friends, though.” 

“Of course.  You’re right, I think I just fall into a routine of keeping to myself, then realize I haven’t bothered to socialize when I really should have taken the time to.” 

“Well, I’m happy to introduce you around. Even if you’re here for work, it’s always good to have a few lads to have a pint with on occasion. Come meet us at the pub sometime this week? You can meet the lads.”

“I’m game. I’ll need to make a few contacts here anyway.” Brogan didn’t elaborate and Liam didn’t ask. Brogan immediately liked that about him – a man who kept his own counsel and wasn’t too nosy. Not that he was doing anything that warranted hiding, but it was nice to know whom he could trust if he needed it down the road. 

“Here’s my card. Give me a call when you’re ready for a pint. You’ll find me at the pub many a night – they have good company and good food. I’m not always in a mood to cook and my fiancée, Fi, isn’t particularly focused on whipping up a meal these days.” 

Brogan surprised himself by asking, “Is she pregnant?” Now who was being the nosy one?

“I hope not!” Liam threw his head back and laughed. “She’s started a new job translating novels. I can barely make a noise in the house these days. I’m finishing up the conversion of a bedroom to her office and moving her into it this week. Right now, she’s working at the dining table.” 

“Ah, yes. A dedicated workspace will make a difference.” 

“I just need to figure out a way to make her think it was her idea first.” 

“You’re a smart man.”

“I like to think so.” Liam finished his coffee and stood. “Nice to meet you, Brogan. Hope to see you around.” 

“Same to you.” Brogan was surprised to realize he meant it. That was two people in one day who’d left an impression on him. Maybe Grace’s Cove would be exactly what he needed to pull himself out of his funk after all. Time would tell.