Mary Kate’s ego took a nosedive. Why did he always think of her as one of the O’Toole girls? She was a grown woman now. “No, I’m not with anyone.” It wasn’t a lie, she assured herself. She may have come in with her parents and Alice Mae, but she wasn’t with them.

“That’s fine playing,” he murmured, forgetting her in his pleasure with the music. “Quick and clever and bright. It’s no wonder they’ve made a name for themselves. The tenor’s the strongest voice, but he knows how to blend in without overpowering his bandmates.”

He wondered what they would do with one of his own ballads and was brought back to the moment only when Mary Kate touched his arm. “You could make a name for yourself, too.” Her eyes were full of dreams when they met his. “A bigger one. A brighter one.”

He avoided answering, or thinking too deeply on the possibilities by giving her a light kiss on the cheek. “You’re a darling girl, Mary Kate. I’d best be back to the kitchen.”

He’d no more than let the door swing shut behind him when it burst open again and Brenna charged through. “I told you to stay away from my sister.”

“What?”

She planted herself in the stance he knew very well signaled a fight. “Didn’t I stand here a week ago and tell you what the situation was as regards my Mary Kate?”

She had, of course. And, Shawn admitted as he shoved a hand through his hair, he hadn’t given it another thought. “I just had a conversation with her, Brenna, nothing more than that. It was as harmless as tickling a baby.”

“She’s not a baby, and you kissed her.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ on the Cross, I’d kiss my own mother in the same fashion.”

“The Germans are hungry,” Darcy said brightly as she carted in a tray loaded with empty plates and bowls.“They’re after three servings of your stew and two of the fish. You’d think the lot of them hadn’t eaten since they left their homeland.”

Dumping the dishes, she measured the weight in the pocket of her apron with a drum of her fingers. “But, bless them, they tip often and they tip well, and only once did one of them give my bum a pat.”

When she started to deal with the dishes, Brenna took a steadying breath. “Darcy, would you mind seeing to those later? I need a word with Shawn, in private.”

Darcy glanced around, lifted an eyebrow. She could see it now, the tension running in waves from one to the other. As far as she was concerned, the two of them weren’t happy unless they were spatting. But this seemed . . . different. “Is something the matter?”

“The O’Toole thinks I’ve designs on Mary Kate and is warning me off.” He wrenched open the refrigerator to take out the fish he needed. But not before he saw Brenna flinch.

“I don’t.” Because she spoke without heat, without her usual bite, Shawn looked back at her. “But she’s designs on you.”