Page 17 of The Chef and the Countess

Liam counted off on his fingers. “We close the pub at midnight starting next week. We’ll go with two options for luncheon starting tomorrow. We’ll meet with Celia and plan the menu for teatime. I’ll speak to Tommy about the scones.”

“He’s a good lad,” Fiona said. “You never said where you found him—or the other two.”

“I can’t talk about it—not yet,” Liam said. “It wasn’t the best of situations, as you can imagine.” And had far more personal implications than Liam was ready to acknowledge as yet.

“Then we’ll discuss it another time.” Fiona clapped her hands together. “Perfect. I do like it when everything works out.”

“You mean when everything goes your way,” Liam replied gruffly.

“We will have to consider staffing in the next week or two. I want to hire another muscular young man for the pub to serve drinks and help keep the customers in line. That will free up one of the young women to work during the day.”

“We’ll discuss it next week. Is that all?”

Fiona smiled. “For now. Did you have lunch?”

“No.”

“You stay here in the office. I’ll bring you a bowl of stew. Take some quiet time for yourself. I’ll see that teatime runs smoothly. I have to check on the beer delivery anyway.” Fiona stood, came around to where he sat, leaned in, and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Liam, like the younger brother I had always wished for. Never forget that.”

Liam grunted in response.

“You can respond with more than a grunt,” Fiona admonished gently. “We are alone, no one will know.”

Liam took her hand, the one resting on his shoulder, and kissed it. “Back at you, Fee. I always wished for an older sister.”

They had been through a lot together, both having experienced tragic losses in their pasts and shared a strong bond due to their Irish backgrounds. When Walter had taken Liam in, he was no more than a feral animal and Fiona’s kindness and patience had slowly won him over. Fiona’s opinion mattered, so when she said Celia’s story sounded legitimate, Liam was silently relieved. He didn’t just take anyone in. But the fact that he’d reacted—physical and otherwise—to touching her and holding her in his arms was concerning. It had been a long time since a woman had piqued his interest—and not just physically. Liam closed his eyes, remembering when he had stood in the hallway, holding her close, reveling in the feel of her in his arms. When Celia had touched his shoulder and arm and trailed her fingers through his hair, he’d nearly dropped to his knees. The reaction had been that intense.

For that reason alone, he should consider taking Drew’s suggestion that he send Celia to a charity house. He had a long-standing rule never to become involved with the staff, but she would not be a permanent employee. As soon as she had better accommodations, she would leave. Liam’s internal struggle was more than evident. It was a constant battle, a war raging within him. He knew what he should do, but his growing feelings for Celia, a woman he had just met and was now responsible for, made it difficult to follow through.

Perhaps it was better that she departed. The last thing Liam wanted was to complicate his life. And a lovely lady in distress could upend his ordered existence—if he let it. However, he could already feel Celia encroaching closer to his heart. And maybe he wanted that more than he was willing to admit.