Absently, Brenna took the second half of the scone and nibbled on it. “I wager Dad and I will be going from room to room in that house, and top to bottom. She’s got the bit between her teeth now. Must be a nesting sort of thing.”

“Well, if it pleases her and Aidan doesn’t mind it . . .” Shawn trailed off, imagining how it would be to live in the midst of all that hammering and sawing. He’d rather be roasted over a slow fire.

“Mind it?” Brenna let out a quick snorting laugh. “He comes in during one of our discussions and just grins like a fool. The man’s besotted with her. I believe she could say, well, let’s just have Brenna turn this house around to face the other way and he’d never bat an eye.” She sighed and sipped her tea. “It’s lovely to see, really, the way they are together.”

“She was what he was waiting for.” At Brenna’s puzzled look, Shawn shook his head. “Sure he was waiting. You’d only to study on him to see it. When she walked into the pub that first night, that was it. A life change from that instant, though neither of them knew it.”

“But you did?”

“I can’t say I knew precisely, just that I knew things would change.”

Intrigued, she leaned forward. “And what are you waiting for?”

“Me?” His eyebrow quirked. “Oh, things are fine as they are for me.”

“That’s a problem with you, Shawn.” She jabbed a finger at him. “You walk the same line until it becomes a rut, and never notice, for your head’s in the clouds in any case.”

“If it’s a rut it’s mine, and I’m comfortable in it.”

“What you need to do is take charge.” She remembered her father’s words. “To move forward. If you don’t move forward you’re always in the same place.”

Eyes mild and amused, he lifted his tea. “But I like this place.”

“I’m ready for a change, for moving forward.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. “And I don’t mind being the one who takes charge if that’s the way it has to be.”

“And what do you have a mind to take charge of this time around?”

“You.” She sat back, ignoring his smirk as he sipped tea. “I think we should have sex.”

He choked, spilling hot tea over his hand and onto his paper as he coughed violently. She made a quick sound of annoyance and dislodged an irritated Bub to get up and thump Shawn briskly on the back. “It can’t be that horrible a thought.”

“Jesus!” was the best he could manage. “Sweet Jesus Christ!” When she plopped into her chair again, he simply goggled at her with eyes that continued to water. Finally he sucked in a breath and blew it out again. “What kind of thing is that to say?”

“It’s plain speaking.” Determined to hold back both nerves and temper, she hooked an arm over the back of her chair. “The fact is, I’ve a yen for you. I’ve had it for some time.” This time his mouth fell open, and the shock on his face teased her temper closer to the surface. “What do you think? Only men can scratch an itch when they have one?”