Читать книгу His Wanted Woman - Linda Turner, Linda Turner, Marilyn Pappano - Страница 8

The old tavern was packed with St. Patrick’s Day revelers who were loud, boisterous and in the mood to party. Rushing inside, his black, wavy hair and sharp features glistening with the damp mist that had socked in Washington, D.C., Patrick O’Reilly wasn’t surprised to find his two brothers already seated at their favorite table, right next to the fireplace, where a roaring fire took the chill off the air. They both worked just around the corner from the bar and didn’t even have to move their cars. He, on the other hand, had been working a case across town and had been caught in traffic.

Devin spied him first as he made his way through the crowd and grinned, though there was little amusement in his steel-blue eyes. “It’s about damn time you got here. We started without you,” he said, and raised his Guinness in a salute.

“We ordered you one,” Logan added. “Devin didn’t think you were coming, so he drank it for you.”

“Hey, it was getting warm,” he said, defending himself. “Here. You can have mine.”

“No, thanks.” Patrick chuckled. “I’ll get my own.”

Signaling the waitress for another beer, he sank into the wooden chair between his brothers and lifted a dark brow. “Well? Did you bring them?”

Devin and Logan didn’t have to ask what he was talking about. They both pulled out a single piece of paper and tossed it onto the table, then waited for Patrick to do the same. Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he produced his own document and added it to the two on the table.

“That’s a pretty sorry sight,” Logan retorted as the waitress delivered another round to their table. “Three brothers. Three divorces, all within six months of each other. Who could have guessed?”

“You should have,” Patrick drawled, “at least when it came to yourself. You never believed in marriage anyway. How you let Jan talk you into walking down the aisle, I’ll never know.”

“Yeah,” Devin said. “You always said marriage was unnatural. Then the next thing we know, you’re planning a damn wedding.”

His green eyes twinkling ruefully, Logan shrugged. “What can I say? It was temporary insanity, and I learned my lesson the hard way.”

“You weren’t the only one,” Patrick said grimly. “At least you didn’t fall for a liar.

“I saw that look,” he added when his brothers exchanged speaking glances. “You two are as bad as Mom. Just because I’m never going to get married again doesn’t mean I’m bitter. I’m just not stupid.”

Grinning, Logan held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, you won’t get an argument out of me. Our mama didn’t raise any idiots.”

“Just a bunch of cops who have bad taste in women,” Devin added, chuckling. “I think she’d rather have idiots.”

Patrick laughed. “Too bad. She’s stuck with us.” Raising his beer, he clicked glasses with his brothers.

“To the three stooges,” Devin said with twinkling eyes.

“Speak for yourself,” Logan tossed back. “To the three musketeers.”

“To never getting married again,” Patrick said.

“Amen,” his brothers said.

And without further ceremony, they each picked up their marriage licenses and, on the two-year anniversary of their divorces, tossed them into the fire. Within seconds, the licenses…and the relationships of the past…went up in smoke.