Shawn laid the next level of Guinness in the glass. “That would depend on the man.”

“Well, a smart one doesn’t, for he’d be bored brainless within a year. Not that I’m in a rush to see my Brenna here off and married. My chicks are leaving the nest quick enough now, with Maureen already wed and Patty looking to be a bride in a few months.” He sighed. “I don’t know what I’ll do without my Brenna when the time comes.”

“You won’t have to do without me, time or not. We’re partners. I’ll just go back and get the soup, since you’re shorthanded here.”

It was as good an excuse as any to get out of the spotlight and away from uncomfortable topics. She was behind the bar and through the kitchen door as quickly as she could manage without letting on she was in a hurry. When the door was behind her, she rolled her eyes heavenward and blew out a breath.

Her father was getting powerfully sentimental lately, and while she found it touching most times, this wasn’t one of them. She got down bowls and tried not to wince when she heard the door open again. She didn’t have to turn to know it was Shawn.

“I can get this. You’re busy.”

“And Darcy can man the bar as well as me—or anyone. Besides, your father wants a sandwich. You don’t build as well with bread and meat as you do with wood and nails.”

Because he wanted to, and because he knew it would fluster her, he came up behind, took her hips in his hands and bent down to nip at the back of her neck.

Heat flashed straight down to her toes. “What are you about? You’re to be working.”

“You’re work enough.” He turned her, then slid his hands up her sides.

“I’ve only time to get a bite to eat. I have to get back to the house and finish up.”

“I’ll feed you soon enough.” With his hands hooked under her arms, he boosted her onto the counter. “You feed me first. I’ve an appetite for you.”

She started to protest, though her heart wouldn’t have been in it, but then his mouth was nibbling on hers. “Someone could come in,” she managed, but her hands were already in his hair.

“And why would that bother you? Just put your mind to this for a minute.” He framed her face, tilted his head. And took her under.

He’d promised to drive her crazy, and she was forced to admit he was a man of his word. For days he’d kept her on a shaky sexual edge that was both frustrating and wonderful. It was never more than a kiss, long and slow and deep or fast and hard and hot. The bare, teasing brush of hand or fingertips. The quiet look that could send her pulse scrambling without a word spoken.

An appetite for her, he’d said. It must have been true, as he was sampling and savoring and consuming her in lazy, lingering bites. When she began to tremble he only made a sound of satisfied approval.