But seeing how happy everyone else was, how established and lived-in their homes were, and watching the anniversaries and birth announcements pile up… Well, it sort of killed him in a bittersweet way that made him feel like a self-centered shit.
The house he bought wasn’t the only one he looked at. There had been others, three that were far away from Center County, but in the end, he couldn’t bear crushing his mum by moving any farther away than the other side of town. Plus, he worked here.
Maybe he made a mistake staying because he’d already learned there was no one here for him. In a small town, everyone knew everyone. And if he hadn’t yet been set up with an available, age appropriate woman living in town, there was good reason to continue avoiding them.
He’d dated all of them—or tried. Even some of the crazier ones. No one interested him. Except Maggie.
Maggie was different, or so he’d thought. And like all the others, Maggie was unavailable. She might be a widow, but her heart very much belonged to her deceased husband.
He needed to get her out of his head. Last night had been a disaster. One would think her disinterest would have set him straight when he was hosing away her puke that morning but nope.
A sharp whistle caught his attention. He quickly stuffed his pining thoughts down where no one could see, and his gaze jerked across the lawn. Luke waved to him from the garage by the big house.
Ryan climbed out of the truck and walked that way. Tristan appeared on the wraparound front porch of the log cabin, Aunt Maureen coming out after him and smiling widely.
“Ryan, love, are you hungry? I’ve got a fresh stew cookin’ and dinner’s just about ready.”
“Thanks, Aunt Maureen. I’d love that.”
“Wonderful. I’ll set you a plate.” She went into the house. Tristan met him at the tire swing by the tree in the front yard where Alexia was swinging.
“Daddy, watch!”
Tristan and Luke both turned as Alexia lifted her feet off the dusty ground, and the tire spun quickly, the thick weathered rope unraveling from the tight coil she’d worked up to the tree branch. Her wild red curls spun like cotton candy as she squealed with glee.
“She looks so much like Sheilagh.”
“Except for the curls,” Luke commented, smiling.
“That, and she’s not evil,” Tristan joked.
Ryan laughed because despite Sheilagh’s reputation for being a she-devil, everyone knew Tristan had a soft spot for her. “So, what did you have to show me?”
The guys directed him toward the garage. A strong scent of lacquer caught the breeze. “We made you something.”
“A housewarming gift,” Tristan explained, pulling open the garage doors.
Ryan’s head cocked at the sight of a long slab of wood, several inches thick. Bark covered the edges and the heavily lacquered surface swirled with aged rings. It stood on a custom-built cabinet with open shelves. The varnished gloss gave it a gleaming surface that would easily wipe clean.
Ryan didn’t know what to say. “It’s gorgeous. You guys made this?”
They smiled and nodded. “That’s custom McCullough lumber, so you know it’s quality wood,” Luke said.
“McCulloughs are known to have the best wood.” Tristan lifted a brow and gave the surface a knock with his knuckles. “Thick and hard.”
Ryan laughed. “You’d know.” He ran his hand over the smooth surface. “This is incredible, guys. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
“Now you have a reason to finish that basement.”
“Put all those new bartending skills to use,” Tristan teased.
As far as gifts went, this one was spectacular. “I’m speechless. This is over the top.”
“We love you like a brother, man. We had to get you something. Buying a house is a big deal.”
He cleared his throat, shoving back the emotions sneaking up on him. “Thanks.”
“You can thank us by inviting us over when the bar’s up and running.”
“Definitely. Speaking of bars, any word when Kelly’s coming back?”
The guys shared a glance that didn’t give Ryan any sense of hope.
“What is it?”
“Maybe you should give him a call,” Luke hedged.
“Maybe you should tell me what you know.”
His cousin sighed. “He’s been commissioned to do a whole new line of canvases. It’s a pretty big deal, but it’s going to take time to complete.”
Ryan frowned. “But his studio’s here.”
“Right, but…” Luke glanced at Tristan and they shared a look of disappointment.
Tristan sighed. “He’s thinking about selling the bar.”
“What? To who?”
They shrugged. “Anyone who will buy it.”
That would never fly. O’Malley’s was a part of their family. His dad and uncles had been running the bar since they were kids. The aunts held every christening and reception right there in the back room.
“That’s bullshit,” he snapped. “It’s been in our family for half a century.”
“We’re all upset,” Luke said. “But Kelly’s found his calling. This is what he wants to do. It isn’t right for us to assume he has an obligation to run the pub on top of everything else going on in his life.”