The Mighty Quinns: Danny

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“Are you going to eat that toast or paint a portrait of the Mona Lisa with raspberry jam?” He grabbed her hand and took a bite, then grinned.

“Hey! Eat your own toast.”

“I like yours better,” he said. Though she did everything to perfection, from buttering toast to renovating the manor house, there was one thing that seemed to escape her—flirting.

“What do you want to know?” she asked.

“Tell me about your family,” he ordered.

“Only if you tell me about yours,” she countered.

“Agreed. You first.”

“All right. There’s not much to tell. I have four older brothers who work for the family business. My father thinks I should decorate houses but I think I should get the same chance to run Kencor as my brothers have. So I work as hard as I can.”

“You and your father don’t get on?” Danny asked.

Jordan shook her head. “I’m sure he loves me just as any father would. But he doesn’t really trust me. I think I remind him of my mother. She drives him crazy.” She took a bite of her eggs. “I suppose you have a normal family life?”

“As normal as it gets,” Danny replied. “Two sisters, two brothers, all older. I know what it’s like to be on the trailing end. I was always following my brothers around. My folks own a pub in Ballykirk. The Speckled Hound. My sisters are both married, both teachers. You know Kell. He’s the oldest boy and then there’s Riley. He’s a musician and he helps my folks with the pub.”

“And how did you become a blacksmith?” she asked.

“I went to art school and studied sculpting and along the way I started working in metal. It was the next logical step. I saw a demonstration at one of the heritage festivals and went to a few workshops. Then I spent my summer holiday working for a smith up in Galway.”

“It seems like such hard work to make that iron do what you want it to.”

“It is. It’s a slow process. It gives you time to think and plan and visualize what you want it to be. All the architectural stuff is just to pay the bills. Someday, I’d like to focus entirely on sculpture.”

“I saw the work in your portfolio. The willow tree that you did, the one that was blowing in the wind, that was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. I want it for the garden here.”

“You’ll have to steal it from the lady I sold it to in Dublin,” he said. “It’s sitting in the lobby of her posh hotel.”

“You should show in a gallery,” she said.

“I have a few things in a show opening next month. And I’ve had my own show a few times at a gallery one of my friends runs.” He paused, observing her from across the table. “What about a boyfriend?”

His question took her by surprise and Danny cursed inwardly, knowing he should have waited. But there was no reason not to be honest about his interest in her.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just curious.”

“You first,” Jordan countered. “Do you have a girlfriend? Or do you have five or six?”

“I have no girlfriend,” he said. “There was someone about a year ago, for about a month, but that ended. No hard feelings. Most women are looking for a little bit better than I’m able to provide. Now you.”

“There is a guy I used to see in New York. But we were never in a committed relationship. We were just …” She cleared her throat. “Friends.”

“You’re just dating then?”

“Well, no.” She frowned. “Yes. At least I was. I’m sure we’ll see each other again when I get back to New York.”

“Naked?” he asked.

She gasped. “What?”

“Will you see each other naked? It’s a simple question.”

“That’s none of your business,” she replied.

“Well, it is. I don’t want to cause any problems between you and your man.”

“He’s not my man. I don’t have a man,” Jordan said. “I’m single and that’s all I have to say about it.”

“You sound a wee bit prickly there,” he said. “Did I touch on a sore subject?”

“You’re awfully nosy for someone I’ve just met.”

“Curious,” he said. “That’s a better word for it. So, now it’s your turn. Ask me anything you like. Anything at all.”

He picked up a slice of bacon and bit off the end, then waited for her to come up with an appropriate question. But she seemed to struggle. “You want to know whether I can be discreet,” he finally said. “You want to know that, if we indulge, it won’t blow up in your face. And you really want to know what I look like naked.”