Page 88 of Hearts on the Mend

He’s streaming Disney music for her in the truck as his phone dings with a text from his mom asking if we can pick up more butter on our way over.

“We can do that, right?” I ask, just as Ruby in the back seat roars with her T. rex mask.

That damn mask.

He chuckles as if he knows what I’m about to say.

“Of course.” He slows and signals, turning so we can stop at the market.

Ruby spots the display of shamrock cookies near the entrance and makes a beeline without asking.

Nolan catches her by the hood of her jacket. “Butter first.”

“Then cookies?” she asks, hopeful.

He peeks at me, and I shrug. Not about to crush her heart over a container of cookies today.

“Then cookies,” he agrees. “Climb up, Rue. I’ll give you a ride.”

She wriggles free, and he hoists her up onto his shoulders, her boots drumming against his chest while she narrates everything she sees. I walk beside them as she points out a display with giant rainbow balloons as we swing left to the dairy aisle.

An older woman nearly knocks into us with her carriage. Nolan snakes his arm around my waist to pull me close, then gives me a cheeky swat on my ass before combing over butter brands.

I’m fighting back the blush on my cheeks when the woman smiles at me. “Lucky you, you landed a smart one. Your husband knows about the good stuff. Irish butter will make all the difference if you’re having soda bread today.”

Husband.

Being with Nolan seems like the easiest decision I’ve had to make the past few months. But husband? My pulse picks up at the thought.

She tosses a box of it into her cart and carries on. Nolan sets Ruby down, then glances at me sideways, not saying anything. That doesn’t hide the pull at the corner of his mouth.

I spin forward, pretending to read the label on the nearest thing I’m holding, which turns out to be… rice pudding. I nearly gag.

He leans forward, his lips brushing against my ear. “Dying to have some rice pudding, Hellcat?”

“Shut up,” I mutter.

His chuckle echoes behind me as he calls out to Ruby so they can hunt down those shamrock cookies.

When we pull into the Murphys’ driveway, it’s already full of cars. A shamrock wreath hangs on the front door, and Bridget greets us wearing a green glitter hat and oversized shamrock glasses.

“Happy St. Patrick’s Day!” She throws her arms wide, and Ruby runs right to her.

“Look at you dressed in green. You pass the test. Come in, come in.” Bridget holds out her hand.

I never grew up celebrating the holiday. It wasn’t until I was in college that I’d go out with Matt and his friends to the bars. But leave it to the Murphys to show me how it’s really done.

Inside, traditional fiddle echoes over the speakers, something bright and lively, and Ruby tries her best at step dancing. A rich, buttery scent wafts through the air, along with the thick sweetness of Guinness.

Izzy and Jack sit at the table with June. Ethan and Sloane are in the kitchen, and Kathleen and Richie are floating between the two rooms, bickering with one another. Something about turnips or rutabagas.

“We don’t have to stay long,” Nolan says close to my ear.

I give him my coat. “It’s fine.”

It is. More than fine. That’s the part I wasn’t expecting. I squeeze his hand quickly, then peel away to pop into the kitchen.

“Do you need any help in here?” I ask.