"Nora Roberts - Christmas at Ardmore" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

She moved off, the baby she carried making a mound under her
faded work shirt. Aidan had only to catch Jude's eye, nod in Brenna's
direction to have the matter dealt with. Jude wound her way around
to Mollie O'Toole, had a quick word. Moments later Mollie had the
tray in hand and her very pregnant daughter in a chair.

So all's right with the world, Aidan thought. Or nearly. There was one
he missed seeing moving through the crowd, serving pints and
bowls, adding her voice to the music. Without his sister Darcy
arguing with Shawn, flirting with the customers or stopping by the
taps for a quick gossip, it wasn't quite Christmas.

She had a life of her own, he reminded himself. A new husband, a
new career. In the three months since her wedding, she'd been
seeing the world as she'd always wanted to. In a first class manner.
And he was thrilled for her, content that she was happy and that the
man she loved was one he could respect, one he considered a
friend.

But, damn it, he missed her.

Of course she wasn't just traveling and swanning about in hotel
suites. She was working and working hard. Her voice might have
been a natural gift--that was the Gallagher way--but recording for a
man like Trevor Magee would be no walk through the park, Aidan
was sure.

"Three pints of Harp, two ginger ales, pint of Guinness." Jude
touched a hand to his before he reached for the glasses. "What's
made you sad?"

"Not sad. Thoughtful maybe. I'm missing Darcy."

"They'll be here tomorrow, the next day at the latest." She paused a
moment. "But it's not the same."
"It's not, no. It's grand having my mother and father here, and your
granny, Trevor's parents. It's Ailish's first Christmas." He glanced
toward his daughter again, cuddled in his mother's arms. And his
heart simply swelled. "It should be enough for anyone."
Not for you, Jude thought, not at Christmas. Not for a man with such
deep love for his family and such a wide need for tradition. She loved
him for it. It had been Aidan who'd hauled down all the boxes of
decorations for the pub, for their home. And both places that were so
dear to him, and to her, were alive with the holiday.

Twinkling lights hung from the eaves outside, from the rafters in. A
little pine tree squeezed into a corner and was dripping with
ornaments. A grinning Santa stood on the bar hefting a pint glass,
and a trio of angels flew over the front window. There were sleigh
bells on the door and reindeer on the roof.