Liam nudged him. "Whats wrong, Dyl? You think the governor ordered the lane closures as retribution of some kind?"

"I have no idea. But I should have known she and her team were investigating the story."

"Why?" Liam asked.

Pat added, "What are you talkin about?"

Uh-oh. He hadnt told his brothers he was working with Rachel, nor the circ.u.mstances that had brought that about. s.h.i.t, what to do now?

Pat moved in closer. "Dyl, whats going on?"

"Something I havent told you." Both brothers waited. "Im investigating Rachel Scott, to give her a second chance to explain herself. You know, like I have with a lot of the columns."

"You mean explain why she got Rory kidnapped? C.J. hurt in the process? Smeared Sophie? How could she ever explain that?" Dylan knew Pat would be upset. And wait till Aidan found out.

"She cant, Paddy, I know that."

Liam asked, "Then why are you giving her another shot?"

Dylan prided himself in taking responsibility for his actions. But he had to tell his brothers the truth or theyd hate him, for a while at least. "Her boss is cozy with the mayor. The mayor called my editors boss. I was ordered to give her another chance to prove herself. And you know she wanted one. I did tell you that."

"You should have said no." Pats tone was implacable.

"And lose my job?"

"Maybe."

Dylan didnt know what to say. Pat and Liam worked full-time at the pub, but it had never been enough for Dylan. Besides, the business couldnt support three families. Aidan had gotten into his photography, and Dylan had snagged another job writing for CitySights. Because he loved journalism, hed gone on to earn a degree in it. "I want to keep my job, Pat. Besides, I need it to make ends meet."

"You could quit the column, fill in here more and work on that book you keep saying you want to write."

Like his namesake, Dylan Thomas, hed tried his hand at poetry and a screenplay but had eventually set his sights on a novel.

"You know my agent suggested submitting my columns for a nonfiction book to get my feet in the publishing-house door before I ventured into fiction." That ma.n.u.script had been with Clive Mason for a couple of months, and he was shopping it around. A bit hurt by Pats accusatory tone, Dylan added. "I told you all that so youd know I havent given up on a writing career."

"Bulls.h.i.t! No job is worth having to make a deal with the devil."

Dylans spine stiffened. Hed learned two things long ago: that his family meant everything to him-h.e.l.l, hed die for them-but paradoxically, he had to stand up for himself, protect himself, as well as them. "Im keeping my job at CitySights, so I have to work with her. If youre mad at me for it, you can shove your objections up your a.s.s."

"All right, everybody, calm down." Liam stood and ducked under the opening to the bar. He slid his arm around Dylan. "You do what you have to do. Well stand by you."

Leaning into his little brother, Dylan said, "Thanks, Liam," then turned to Pat, who was now propped up against the back counter, his arms folded over his chest. "What about you, Paddy? You standing by me even if you disagree about what I did?"

Rachel stepped out of the town car and said to her driver, "Sam, would you mind not coming in? This probably wont be pretty."

Samuel J. Stone, a man she could count on, crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. "Then I should go with you."

"No, but thanks. Stay in the car, where its warm."

Pulling open the carved oak door to Baileys Irish Pub, she stepped inside and out of the night. Dylan hadnt called her after the show and she knew his silence was worse. Shed decided to go on the offensive instead of waiting for an attack.

As it was after midnight, the place was empty of customers and she saw three men at the bar. Dylan was working in a ledger, Patrick was wiping down surfaces and Liam upending stools.

When she came closer, Patrick glanced over at her. "Oh, great, just what we need tonight."

"h.e.l.lo, Patrick."

Dylans head snapped up. Liam stopped overturning furniture. "What do you want, Ms. Scott?" Patrick asked formally. He was one tough nut to crack. But at least he wasnt calling her names.

"Im here to see Dylan."

"You been doing a lot of that lately, we hear." With a cold glare at Dylan, Patrick gestured to the right.

Dylan was watching her. Leaning against the bar, he stared at her but said nothing. She walked to him. Liam approached them and stood by.

"Dylan, may I speak with you privately?"

"I dont know about that, Miss America."

Pat walked up to them. "I do. Hes been tellin us all night that he had no choice but to work with you. Seems to me you tricked him again by not keepin up your part of the bargain. ONeils arent stupid, Ms. Scott."

Liam opened his mouth to speak, but Dylan beat him to it. "No, its okay, Liam. Pats right. My brothers are p.i.s.sed as h.e.l.l at you, Rachel, and now at me, because I gave you a second chance." He glanced at the television. "Which apparently was a stupid idea. You lied to me."

Unwinding her scarf and unb.u.t.toning her coat, she said with as much aplomb as possible, "I did not lie."

"You know the rules. Im supposed to have total access to your stories."

"I couldnt tell you about this segment. It was hush-hush at the network. I broke it because Ive followed the story since November, but if wed been preempted by another station because I told someone, there would have been h.e.l.l to pay."

"And you would have paid the price." She couldnt read his tone.

"Yes."

"Jesus, Dylan, you sound like shes convincing you." Patrick straightened and put his hand on Dylans shoulder. "She lied, boy. Im addin that to her list of sins against us."

Rachel felt her lip begin to tremble at the wrath she saw in the oldest ONeil, so she bit down on it. "I had no choice."

Liam ran a hand through his hair. "You said the same thing about Sophie. My fiance, who you embarra.s.sed in front of the whole fire department."

She faced the brother her network had wronged. "The editing on Sophies interview was another thing out of my control."

"It seems to be your byline." Pats voice was ice cold. "You write the feature just fine and others change it. How can you live like that?"

Before she could answer, Dylan did. "Shes chasing another job. So she gives into them."

Patrick snorted. "Oh, yeah, the overseas reporter. You wouldnt last a day, honey."

Dylan told them about her goals? Her private aspirations? Why did she feel betrayed?

"Look, Ms. Scott, you should really leave." Liams tone was tempered. She read once that Bailey had given the ONeil brothers nicknames: Patrick the Fighter, Dylan the Taunter, Liam the Manipulator and Aidan the Peacemaker. "You know youre not wanted here, and it looks like Dylan isnt in any mood to tangle with you. Ill call you a cab."

"She has a driver." Dylan nodded to the door. "Who looks like he doubles as her bodyguard."

Rachel tracked his nod. d.a.m.n, Sam would freeze to death out there. "Sam is like family to me. Of course he watches out for me."

Patrick braced his hands on the edge of the bar, white knuckling them. "Like we do for Dylan. Which means were never gonna forgive you for what you did to us. If we could stop Dylan from giving you a second chance, we would."

Dylan shook his head. "I can fight my own battles, you guys." Reaching into the well for a bottle, he poured two gla.s.ses of whiskey then faced his brothers. "Go home, guys, Ill close up, after I talk to Rachel."

Circling the bar he led her to a table in the corner, said, "Take off your coat and sit. Im p.i.s.sed as h.e.l.l at you," he lowered his voice, "but frankly, Im glad I am."

"Ill sit and stay if Sam can come inside. He wont leave me here and go to the car but its frigid out there."

Dylan sighed. He didnt want to see this softer side of her. "Liam," he called out, "can you ask her driver to come in and give him some coffee before you leave? Tell him to stay on the other side of the room."

After Liam beckoned the older guy in, Sam glared at him and waited for a signal from Rachel. "Im okay, Sam. I just dont want you standing out in the cold."

When she turned back to Dylan, lines of fatigue etched across her beautiful face. Hed never before seen flaws in her complexion. "What did you mean youre glad youre mad at me?"

"Its a good thing." Raising the Jamesons to his mouth, he took a sip. "I needed to be reminded of who you really are, Rachel. I was falling under your spell, I think."

"Im under-"

The gla.s.s. .h.i.t the table hard. "No! No more of that. No telling me how you feel about me. No showing me the feminine vulnerability you pretend is part of you." Now he leaned closer. "I want to start over. Completely over. Im going to forget about the night of the wedding. Well avoid doing things together that let me see you as a sister, an aunt. I wont give you another opportunity to be around Hogan and charm him."

Instead of cowering, she arched a c.o.c.ky brow. "So what youre saying is youre afraid of the real me?"

"Afraid?" he scoffed. "Hardly. Just reminded, once again, that youre a conniving little b.i.t.c.h who cant be trusted."

Before he realized what was happening, Rachel picked up her gla.s.s and threw the liquid in his face. "Ill tell you what I am, Dylan ONeil. Im tired of being a doormat because of my guilt over having slept with you. I wont be insulted tonight, or any other time, because of your Irish temper." She stood, sc.r.a.ped back the chair, and it hit the floor with a whack. "You can tell your brothers the same thing for me."

Turning, she grabbed her coat, stalked away from him and swept out of the bar like some outraged victim.

Picking up a napkin, he wiped his face and stared after her. h.e.l.l, she was crazy, thats what she was. He was the victim. And he couldnt lose sight of that.

The clock struck one as Dylan locked the front door of the pub and closed the blinds over the wall of windows. The room went dark, except for a light coming from behind the bar. Exhausted, he headed to the back just as a figure appeared in the rear doorway. His heartbeat escalated and he looked around for a weapon. Whoever had entered from the back most have broken in, because it was never left unlocked at night.

"Its just me, son."

Dylan leaned against a table to calm his heart. "Jesus, Pa, you scared me."

"Sorry about that." The old man walked closer and stopped a few feet away. "I couldnt sleep. Came down to get a nightcap. Wanna have one with me?"

"Nah, I had a drink earlier. Ones my limit when Im driving."

"Then sit with me, boy."

That was the last thing Dylan wanted to do. He was drained from his encounter with Rachel. But this was his pa asking for his company. "Sure. Ill get you a drink. Baileys?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." He dropped down onto a stool. Paddy ONeil was a big man, but recently his shoulders had started to slump. At eighty, that was to be expected, but Dylan still remembered leaning on those shoulders, both emotionally and physically.

"Ma doin good?"

"Yeah, she doesnt stop chattering about that cruise shes been pestering me about."

Dylan set the Baileys in front of his father. "Dont you wanna go, Pa?"

"I didnt at first. But my Mary Kate is so excited, its contagious, I guess. Never did see myself floatin around the ocean in a tin can."

Dylan laughed and the honest humor felt good.

"Havent heard that much lately, Dyl."

"What?"

"You laughin. You been serious for a while now."

Dylan shrugged.

"Hogan okay?"

"Yeah, the effects of staying with Stephanie are pretty much gone. We been doin guy stuff together. We both like it."

His Pa stared at the pictures of the grandkids that were tacked up on a wall at the end of the bar. "I was against the divorce at first, but what a b.i.t.c.h she is. She made him cut his hair."

"He took it good, though. I felt worse than he did."

"You always feel worse about things than anybody else."

"What do you mean?"

His pa sipped his drink and then snagged his gaze. "Youre different from the other boys. Sure, Patrick worries about all of you, but you..." He shook his head again. "Youre ferocious in your defense of everybody. Like this thing with that reporter. You took it upon yourself to single-handedly get her in line."

The irony wasnt lost on him. Hed accomplished the opposite. For G.o.ds sake, she threw a drink in his face an hour ago. "I just want to protect our family, Pa. I thought I could intimidate her into silence."

"Thats what I mean. Everything isnt your responsibility. You need to take care of yourself, too. Clay can handle her. Or sh.e.l.l just fade away into the sunset."

Huh. Had his Pa been privy to what happened tonight? "Pa, theres something I need to tell you. I-"

"Paddy ONeil, are you drinking with my boy this late at night?"

His fathers smile was so real, so genuine when Ma came fully into the room, it took Dylans breath away. "Come on and join us, Katie, me girl."