Never Too Late For Love (Heroes Of The Sea Book 9) by Danelle Harmon

Author:Danelle Harmon [Harmon, Danelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2019-05-30T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

The tavern was loud and boisterous, the spirits free-flowing, the sailors rowdy and the tobacco smoke a blue cloud in the lantern-light but through it, Liam saw a familiar form approaching.

Kieran.

The look on the younger man’s face boded ill.

He approached the table at which Liam sat drinking with his newfound friends. They took one look at the younger man, exchanged wary glances, and recognizing authority, made room for him.

Lots of room.

“Ahoy, Cap’n.”

Someone raised a tankard. “Something to drink?”

Kieran ignored them and remained standing. “Liam. We need to talk.”

“What?” The crash of a table going over and plates, tankards and glasses with it as a fight broke out nearby, drowned out the last of his captain’s words. Liam’s new friends, eager to escape what looked to be a confrontation between Kieran and himself, jumped up and hurried to the brawl, already throwing money down on a table as bets began to fly.

“Outside.”

“But—”

“Now.”

Kieran didn’t often use his captain’s voice, and his da before him hadn’t either, but when he did, people listened.

Liam listened.

Ignoring the fight behind them, Kieran turned his back and headed toward the door, instinctively ducking as a chair flew toward his head and crashed against the wall just to his left. Calm and unflappable as always, Liam thought, sparing an envious glance behind him. He itched to throw himself into the fight. Itched to feel his knuckles against someone’s face. Itched to lose himself in something physical. The way he was feeling right now—

His captain took a firm grip on his elbow and shoved Liam ahead of him, out the door.

“God almighty, Kieran, it’s just getting good back in there! What the bloody hell are ye doing?”

The younger man pushed him outside, stopped, and turned. In the light emanating from the tavern windows his mouth was hard, his eyes watering from the smoky room they’d just vacated. He looked impatient, annoyed, frustrated.

“You’re not going back in there to join into the brawl. And don’t tell me you’ve no intention of doing just that, I know you, I know your moods, and I know you think it’ll make everything better. It won’t. Besides, I need crew. Getting yourself injured isn’t going to make you of any use to me in sailing Sandpiper home.”

“What are ye talking about?”

“I’ve reached the end of my patience. I’m going home and so are you.”

“But—” Liam thought of Annis and felt momentary panic. “Why?”

“Females. You do know, don’t you, that you and Mrs. Cutter are being conspired against? That there’s a small navy of matchmakers trying to get you together? I came here to warn you.” A window exploded just behind them, a shower of glass raining down near their feet, a chair bouncing once, twice off the cobblestones. Kieran merely moved a few feet away, unfazed. “I’ve got a headache from listening to their scheming. I’m going home. If you’re smart, you’ll join me.”

“What?”

“You heard me. We’ll have breakfast in the morning with Rosalie’s family, then I’m catching the tide and making sail for Newburyport.

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