It was simple enough work, no more than a patch here and there, and it gave her a fine opportunity to sit in the wavering sunlight and look out at the water.

When she built a house, she thought, she’d choose higher ground so her view of the water would be from windows rather than a rooftop. It was good to look and see the boats out again and know that life was sliding back into its regular rhythm.

And maybe she’d have some sky windows as well, so she could look up and see the sun or the rain or the drift of stars. It was time for a home of her own, she knew, though she’d miss the sounds and scents of family.

But there was something inside her that told her the time was now for the next stage of what she was and where she was going. There’d been a different tone between her and Shawn the night before, and it had changed everything in her once and forever. Her mind and her heart were in one place now.

It was time to tell him, to ask him. To browbeat him if there was no choice. Whatever it took, the O’Tooles were going to be planning another wedding.

God help them all.

She scooted over to the ladder, climbed down. Leaving her toolbox by the back door, she went in to tell her mother the job was done and she’d be on her way.

When the phone rang, she picked it up without thinking, then guiltily tucked the receiver under her chin and wiped the shingle grime off her hands onto her jeans. “Hello.”

“Miss O’Toole?”

“This is one of them.”

“Miss Brenna O’Toole.”

“Aye, you’ve hit the target.” Automatically Brenna pulled open the refrigerator door and perused the contents. “What can I do for you?”

“Would you hold the line, please, for Mr. Magee?”

“Oh.” She shot up straight, bumping the door with her hip and slamming it on her own hand. She bit back a yelp. “Yes, I could do that. Goddamn it,” she added in a mutter when she heard the line click, and sucked at her sore fingers.

“Miss O’Toole, Trevor Magee.”

“Good day to you, Mr. Magee.” She recognized his deep, smooth voice from the time she’d waded through what had seemed like an army of assistants to speak with him. “Are you calling from New York City?”

“No, actually I’m on my way to London.”

“Oh.” Her initial disappointment in not taking a call from New York vanished in a fresh thrill. “Are you calling from an airplane, then?”

“That’s right.”

She wanted to shout for her mother to come quick, but thought it would sound just a little too countrified. “It’s kind of you to take time out of your busy schedule.”

“I always make time for what interests me.”

He sounded like he meant it and that the reverse was entirely true as well. “Then perhaps you’ve had time to look at the package Aidan Gallagher sent you.”