Read Online Falling in Love in New York by Melissa Hill - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Melissa Hill
Ads: Link
their partners couldn’t keep them on, Finn knew that he couldn’t part with her again–especially given what she’d been through. And although there was no possible way she could be re-trained, in time he managed to coax the frightened Labrador out of her anxieties and bring her back to the intelligent, loving companion she was.
Now, watching Lucy play happily with her equally clever and talented offspring, Finn was reminded of the comment Nora, one of his elderly neighbours had made recently, when she was (yet again) teasing him about his single status.
“Honestly Finn, you’ll never find anyone as long as you keep that big, hairy mutt around!”
And Finn thought to himself now, as he had then, why on earth would he want to, when Lucy was possibly the only female on the planet who hadn’t let him down?
Chapter 8
The following Sunday afternoon, Finn opened his front door to find Pat Maguire standing on his doorstep.
“Hey Dad, how’s things?” he said, stepping back and beckoning him inside. As he did so, Lucy–who adored Pat–bounded down the hallway to greet him, her tail wagging furiously.
The feeling was mutual.
“Ah there you are, my darlin’” Pat bent down and ruffled Lucy behind the ears. “How was she the other day?” he asked, referring to the ceremony. Pat, like Finn, knew how lonely Lucy got when her pups went out into the big bad world.
Finn shrugged. “Not too bad. A bit moody earlier in the morning, but much better when it was all over.”
“Isn’t it gas the way they know what’s happening all the same?” Pat said, shaking his head. “Imagine pining over her young ones like that. Aren’t they nearly human sometimes?”
“Better than some humans in that way.” Finn’s expression tightened and he moved to the sink. “At least she actually gives some thought to her offspring. Cup of tea, Dad?”
“That would be grand, thanks.” Pat took a seat at the kitchen table and looked at his son. “Lookit, there’s no need for that kind of smart talk, is there?”
Immediately Finn felt guilty. There was no need, and it wasn’t fair to his father– especially after all this time. But sometimes, he just couldn’t help but revert to behaving like some sulky teenager instead of the grown man of thirty-five he was.
“Sorry, it’s been a busy week and I’m a bit stressed out.” Finn stood by the counter as he waited for the kettle to boil.
“Stress, stress, stress–everyone in this country is stressed these days. Whatever happened to just taking things easy?”
Finn smiled. “The one who’s talking! When’s the last time you took things easy, Dad? Sixty-eight years of age and you’re still going up and down ladders like a madman.”
Pat was a cabinet-maker by trade, but for as long as Finn could remember he’d been working as a painter/decorator and odd-job man in the Balbriggan area. His father could turn his hand to anything; plumbing, carpentry, electrics, a feat that thanks to him, Finn could also lay claim to, and which had served him well in rejuvenating this house. After a stint of travelling and working abroad–mostly in the US–a few years back he’d decided to come home to Dublin and settle down, at least, that had been the plan. He’d bought this place shortly after taking up work in the training centre, deciding that a run-down, crumbling old farmhouse in the rural and more peaceful North County Dublin would suit him a lot better than the hustle and bustle of the city centre.
“Well, I might have to give up those ladders for a while soon,” Pat said, and hearing a slight catch in his voice, Finn looked up. Suddenly realising that this was no casual visit, he stared at his father. “What does that mean?”
When Pat didn’t answer immediately, he frowned. “Dad, what’s going on?”
“Finish making that pot of tea and I’ll tell you,” his father replied, leaving Finn wondering what on earth was coming.
He soon found
Now, watching Lucy play happily with her equally clever and talented offspring, Finn was reminded of the comment Nora, one of his elderly neighbours had made recently, when she was (yet again) teasing him about his single status.
“Honestly Finn, you’ll never find anyone as long as you keep that big, hairy mutt around!”
And Finn thought to himself now, as he had then, why on earth would he want to, when Lucy was possibly the only female on the planet who hadn’t let him down?
Chapter 8
The following Sunday afternoon, Finn opened his front door to find Pat Maguire standing on his doorstep.
“Hey Dad, how’s things?” he said, stepping back and beckoning him inside. As he did so, Lucy–who adored Pat–bounded down the hallway to greet him, her tail wagging furiously.
The feeling was mutual.
“Ah there you are, my darlin’” Pat bent down and ruffled Lucy behind the ears. “How was she the other day?” he asked, referring to the ceremony. Pat, like Finn, knew how lonely Lucy got when her pups went out into the big bad world.
Finn shrugged. “Not too bad. A bit moody earlier in the morning, but much better when it was all over.”
“Isn’t it gas the way they know what’s happening all the same?” Pat said, shaking his head. “Imagine pining over her young ones like that. Aren’t they nearly human sometimes?”
“Better than some humans in that way.” Finn’s expression tightened and he moved to the sink. “At least she actually gives some thought to her offspring. Cup of tea, Dad?”
“That would be grand, thanks.” Pat took a seat at the kitchen table and looked at his son. “Lookit, there’s no need for that kind of smart talk, is there?”
Immediately Finn felt guilty. There was no need, and it wasn’t fair to his father– especially after all this time. But sometimes, he just couldn’t help but revert to behaving like some sulky teenager instead of the grown man of thirty-five he was.
“Sorry, it’s been a busy week and I’m a bit stressed out.” Finn stood by the counter as he waited for the kettle to boil.
“Stress, stress, stress–everyone in this country is stressed these days. Whatever happened to just taking things easy?”
Finn smiled. “The one who’s talking! When’s the last time you took things easy, Dad? Sixty-eight years of age and you’re still going up and down ladders like a madman.”
Pat was a cabinet-maker by trade, but for as long as Finn could remember he’d been working as a painter/decorator and odd-job man in the Balbriggan area. His father could turn his hand to anything; plumbing, carpentry, electrics, a feat that thanks to him, Finn could also lay claim to, and which had served him well in rejuvenating this house. After a stint of travelling and working abroad–mostly in the US–a few years back he’d decided to come home to Dublin and settle down, at least, that had been the plan. He’d bought this place shortly after taking up work in the training centre, deciding that a run-down, crumbling old farmhouse in the rural and more peaceful North County Dublin would suit him a lot better than the hustle and bustle of the city centre.
“Well, I might have to give up those ladders for a while soon,” Pat said, and hearing a slight catch in his voice, Finn looked up. Suddenly realising that this was no casual visit, he stared at his father. “What does that mean?”
When Pat didn’t answer immediately, he frowned. “Dad, what’s going on?”
“Finish making that pot of tea and I’ll tell you,” his father replied, leaving Finn wondering what on earth was coming.
He soon found
Similar Books
