A smile cracked his face. He did want a family. When he looked at his brothers, he felt like he was missing something in his own life. He wanted a wife and children to fill his world. Aiden worried that he was the one son who was turning into his wandering father, a man who couldn’t handle commitment. “I’m not too much like Da, am I?” he asked his mother.

Her expression softened. “Oh Aiden, you’re the lovely parts of Liam. You got his handsome looks, his charm and craic. But the rest, you got from the Hannigan side.”

Aiden didn’t know why he needed to hear her affirmations so badly. At thirty-eight, he wondered if he was getting too set in his ways, not making any concessions for another person in his life. He had to take his mother at her word since she was the most honest person he knew. But the nagging thought still lingered. “Thanks, Mam.”

Clare gave a quick nod. “Well, you take care on the road, will you?”

He put his phone in its hands-free holder. “Of course, I’m just making a quick stop in Clifden for groceries before I get to Tully Cross. No more than a couple of hours.”

“Fine then,” she said. “Call me when you get there.”

Aiden glanced at the dashboard clock. “How about I send you a text instead?”

She arched a brow. “My stubborn little clam.”

He rolled his eyes. “Goodbye, Mam.” He gave a quick wave before switching her off and turning his GPS on. If he was going to collect his keys before nightfall, he needed to haul-ass immediately. A week of rest in the country awaited him.

Chapter Seven

“No, no, please don’t tell me this,” Antonia pleaded with the hotel receptionist. She was exhausted after a six-hour flight to Shannon Airport and a long, confusing drive to Clifden. The rental car was a manual-shift that stalled out every time she came to a stop. The only reason she’d reserved it was because it was cheaper and she had assumed Derek would drive the entire trip. And now this young bright-eyed brunette was telling her she had no room. Ireland was quickly feeling like a mistake. “I checked on this reservation last night. No, not last night, I was on a plane. What day is it?”

The receptionist, her name tag read “Breda,” gave a pitying smile. “It’s Thursday and I’m truly very sorry, Mrs. Rogers—”

“—No, not Mrs. Rogers,” Antonia interrupted. “I didn’t marry, I mean, I know I made the reservation under that. But...” She knew what she must have sounded like. A single woman showing up to a hotel suite meant for a newlywed couple. The young woman, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, simply nodded her head.

“Of course, Ms. Harper?” she said checking her credit card once more. “Your reservation was canceled yesterday evening. Mr. Rogers called and said your stay wouldn’t be necessary.”

“He called?” Antonia bit back her anger as she clenched the counter. “You mean he actually called you and canceled our—my reservation?”