St. Patrick’s Day had once been the worst night of Maeve O’Connell’s life. Now it was the biggest celebration of the year at her coffeehouse, The Lucky Clover Café. Green streamers hung from the ceiling, fiddle music drifted through the room, and the scent of fresh Irish soda bread filled the air.
This year marked the café’s tenth anniversary, and Maeve dove into the festivities. She was determined to make new memories and forget the heartbreak of St. Patrick’s Day, one year ago, when the love of her life moved to New York.
Maeve was so absorbed in her tasks that she didn’t notice him at first. But when their eyes met across the room, her breath caught. Aidan Coller. The man she once planned to marry.
“It’s good to see you.” Aidan slid onto a stool and dunked his hand into the bowl of mixed nuts on the counter.
If it were anyone else from her past, Maeve would lean her elbows on the counter, cradle her chin in her palms and reminisce. But before she could even consider playing it cool, her heart slammed against her ribs and her belly did a little flip. Her body didn’t seem to get the memo that Aidan was probably just visiting.
“What brings you back to town?” She hoped the words sounded smoother than they felt tumbling out of her mouth.
He jutted his chin into a familiar head tilt, and it felt like he saw all the way into her soul. “It was time to come home.”
It was the way he said home. It warmed her from her toes to her cheeks.
“New York was missing something. It took me a long time to figure out what.”
She coiled one of her fiery red curls around her index finger, staying quiet.
“I was hoping to reconnect with old friends tonight.” He looked disappointed that she hadn’t asked him to elaborate on what had been missing in New York. “Does the gang still come here?”
Their old friend group would certainly come out for St. Patty’s Day. It would be an act of solidarity to support Maeve on the anniversary of Aidan’s departure.
“They’ll be in at some point.” Maeve forced a bright smile. “What can I get you?”
“Your famous Irish cream hot chocolate,” Aidan said with a grin. “I’ve heard it’s still the best in town.”
Maeve chuckled, relieved to be on safer conversational ground. If there was one thing she could talk about until the wee hours of the night, it was the traditional recipes she served.
The old gang came and went, yet Aidan stuck to her like glue. Maeve had overheard him probing her friends for her relationship status. He’d said that he didn’t pack up his New York apartment on a whim. He knew what he was in for when he walked into The Lucky Clover and he wasn’t leaving until Maeve knew losing her was his biggest regret in life.
She didn’t know what to do with that information.
As the night progressed, Maeve felt herself loosening up. She didn’t even mind when Aidan followed her into the kitchen to keep the conversation flowing. It reminded her of their dating years, when they would cook side by side in Maeve’s small apartment.
Aidan rolled up his sleeves. “Someone once taught me the secret to a great shepherd’s pie.”
“Really?” She cocked a sassy eyebrow.
“Hand pies,” he said, reaching for the pastry dough. “You used to say they tasted like home.”
They fell into a familiar rhythm.
As the clock approached closing time, the place quieted down. They stepped outside and the streetlights cast a soft glow on the cobblestone streets.
“If I could go back in time,” Aidan said, “I’d never leave you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver shamrock pendant. “I found this unpacking. Do you remember it?”
Maeve gasped. Of course, she remembered the pendant. Her fingertips brushed the gem. She’d called it her lucky charm, but tonight she realized it had never been about luck at all. It had always been about love.
“You gave it to me years ago.”
“And you returned it when I left for New York.” He moved slowly, unclasping the necklace and looking into her eyes for permission. “You were what was missing in New York. I came home because I still love you. You’ve built a good life here, and I’d like to be part of it, if you’ll let me.”
Maeve lifted her hair so he could fasten the necklace. Her fingertips brushed the small silver shamrock. She might have called it her lucky charm, but tonight she realized the charm had never been the pendant. It was the man standing in front of her.
She felt the sincerity in Aidan’s words and the weight of what he was offering. Tonight wasn’t about everything they had lost. It was about the possibility of beginning again. About love coming home.
She turned to meet his gaze. “I’d like that.”
They walked back inside, where laughter and fiddle music still drifted through The Lucky Clover Café. The celebration hadn’t ended after all. And neither had their story.
If you enjoyed When Love Comes Home, you might also enjoy Sweet Beginnings in Sycamore Hill, where one brave whistleblower sets off a twenty-four-hour chain reaction on the eve of the town’s most important holiday celebration.
A baker receives a career-making opportunity, a reporter chases the truth, a woman faces her greatest fear, and a lost child returns home as the day unfolds.
As the residents of Sycamore Hill prepare to welcome a new year, five couples discover sweet beginnings filled with hope and unexpected possibilities. This interconnected story sequence introduces the Sycamore Hill Series.
Each Sycamore Hill book offers something a little different—romance, mystery, and even suspense (my personal favorite to write) as the lives of its residents intertwine.
Step into Sycamore Hill and see where the first domino falls.