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T he next day, a loud crash greeted Emma at the bottom of the stairs. She paused and peeked around the corner.

Aidan was on the floor, wrestling with Reilly. Wrestling. With another grown man.

Emma rather hoped Reilly would win their skirmish.

She still wasn’t sure what to make of that kiss, and Aidan had scowled at her the entire night.

It was so at odds with everything he’d done and said to her since they first met, and she wasn’t sure who she was angriest at—Aidan, for being such a jerk after such a wonderful kiss, or herself, for letting her guard down.

Either way, she made the firm decision that they were in a strictly professional relationship now.

Aside from the fact, of course, that she was staying in his cousin’s house, hiding from her crazy ex.

She had to figure out a way to free herself from Ben MacDermott.

She carefully sidestepped the two men as they crashed into the back of the lovely leather couch, shaking her head.

From what she could see as she skirted past, Aidan appeared to be bleeding from his lip, and Reilly was sporting a nasty bruise under his eye.

They also seemed intent on beating each other to a pulp. Emma rolled her eyes.

She didn’t understand boys when she was younger, and things hadn’t gotten any clearer now that she was grown.

Emma felt much more comfortable after last night’s games, when she soundly trumped all of them at poker, Texas Hold ’Em, and even Go Fish.

She had a good time, despite the remnants of whatever that kiss was between her and Aidan.

Plus, Aidan didn’t even pretend to like Reilly, which made Reilly flirt all the more outrageously with her. It was interesting to watch.

Reilly’s head popped out from the living room. “Good morning, Em—oof!” He disappeared again.

She found Colin in the kitchen. He stared intently at a laptop, muttering to himself in Gaelic. She had a sudden thought that she might have landed in a house of lunatics.

Well , she tried to rationalize, that isn’t any different than my typical clientele, really.

“Good morning,” she said, sliding into the chair beside him.

“Morning, Emma. Sleep well?”

As well as I could, knowing that the man who kissed my socks off was sleeping only a door away and that my ex is out to have me killed . “Yes, thanks.”

Another loud crash was heard from the living room, followed by what she was sure were curse words in Gaelic. Colin didn’t bat an eye as he added, “They don’t even try to get along. Haven’t for years. But they do love each other as only family can.”

“I see,” she replied, her most charming smile in place.

“Last night, you mentioned your matchmaking business, and I realized I signed up for it a few years ago, when my boyfriend and I at the time were on a break.” She grimaced.

“I thought I was ready to jump back into dating, and your New York office was right across from my work, so…Anyway, when did you take ownership?”

He cleared his throat. “About, um, eight years ago.”

“It’s done very well,” she replied. “Some of my clients used Celtic Connections. They did so with great success.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” Colin replied. Another crash. “Coffee?”

“Sure, thanks,” Emma said. Another thud, followed by grunts.

“Whenever you’re ready to hop back on the dating circuit, let me know,” he offered, sliding her a steaming cup. “We have great matching profiles when you’re ready to settle down. Serious inquiries only.”

She took a sip and frowned thoughtfully. “Thanks. But I don’t think marriage is for me.” But even as she said the words aloud, her heart hurt. Ben would never allow her peace enough to date, let alone marry.

She also wasn’t fool enough to think that she could entrust her heart to anyone ever again.

“You’d make an excellent wife, I’m certain of it,” Reilly drawled, entering the kitchen with Aidan.

“Are you offering to make her one?” Aidan growled to Reilly.

Emma choked.

Reilly laughed at Aidan, who was wiping the blood from his lip. “Down, lad. Emma, excellent job at cards last night. Beginner’s luck?”

“Perhaps,” she murmured, reaching for her coffee.

“Ah. A lass of many secrets. Well, that’s fine by me,” Reilly replied, helping himself to her coffee before she could get to it. At her protest, he flashed her a mischievous grin. “Ah, love, we’re all family here. We share everything.”

“Not everything,” Colin interjected mildly, watching Aidan attempt to rein in his temper .

“Aye,” Reilly agreed. “Not everything. But most things.” He saluted Aidan with her coffee mug.

“Do you always tease him?” she wondered. Reilly just shrugged, and Colin laughed.

“One of the reasons they act like children is because they love each other so much,” Colin explained.

“Hardly,” Aidan growled.

“So how, exactly, are you related to each other?” Emma asked. “None of you look anything alike.”

Colin cleared his throat. “Our family tree has, um, many branches.”

“You all have different last names. That’s interesting. Are your mothers all sisters?” she asked.

“We’re more like second or third cousins,” Colin said carefully, and Emma’s BS radar went on full alert.

“Second or third?” she replied.

“Right. Many branches,” Colin reminded her.

“Right,” she echoed. She poured herself another cup of coffee, since Reilly was still drinking hers, as they swiftly changed subjects and began to (loudly) discuss the state of affairs in Ireland.

Reilly, who owned a cottage near Dublin, was arguing with Aidan about the property taxes, and Colin just continued to stare at his laptop.

They were trying too hard. She’d seen it hundreds of times with clients; she wasn’t fooled. She wondered what the real story was—she’d only asked a simple question about their family history.

She caught Aidan’s eye and raised her eyebrow. He stood abruptly, cutting Reilly off mid-sentence. “Emma, come with me. I don’t want your sweet self tainted by any more time spent with O’Malley.”

“You wound me,” Reilly replied. “Is Cian around today?”

“No.” Aidan didn’t elaborate.

“Actually, I have some questions for Colin,” Emma cut in. “ I’d like to know more about your matchmaking business. Did Aidan ever fill out a profile?”

Colin was clearly caught off-guard by the question. “Well—”

“Why is that important?” Aidan interrupted.

Emma took a sip of her coffee. “Because if I’m going to do my job successfully, I need to know what information about you is out there. Is his application still in your database?” she pressed Colin.

He looked bemused. “Of course.”

“How secure are your firewalls? Have you had any hacking attempts recently? Has your client information ever been put at risk? What safeguards do you have in place in the event of such an occurrence?”

“Still not seeing the importance here,” Aidan cut in irritably.

She raised an eyebrow. “Let’s say a patron at The Colcannon decides that he had a terrible experience there.

He digs around and finds your profile on Celtic Connections.

He can glean all sorts of personal details to use in whatever way he thinks of to damage your reputation.

If we know what information is publicly available, and what information is privately available, our case against him will be stronger in court, and we can mitigate the damage.

So, I want to know how secure your information is on Colin’s database. ”

Aidan’s mouth hung open in surprise. “Oh.”

Colin inclined his head, his expression impressed. “I’ll take you through it all this afternoon in my office.”

“I thought you said the office was ‘organized chaos,’ and that not even the housekeeper would touch it,” she teased. “Maybe we’d better stay in the kitchen.”

“Unnecessary,” Aidan said swiftly. “We can discuss it later, but for now you can rest assured the information in that application is no longer in Celtic Connections’ servers. ”

“You wiped my servers?” Colin exclaimed. “You don’t have permission to do that, MacWilliam!”

“Colin’s overprotective about the business,” Reilly murmured in Emma’s ear. “He loved Brianagh—another cousin, the original founder—very much and he promised to take care of it for her. You’ll see a temper tantrum now.”

Colin and Aidan weren’t paying attention to her and Reilly; Colin stood nose-to-nose with Aidan and was shouting all sorts of things at him in rapid-fire Gaelic.

Emma caught “Brianagh,” “fool,” and what she thought were a few choice words directed at Aidan.

Aidan didn’t shout back, but she could see the muscles on his neck bunching.

“How, exactly, are they related again?” she asked again, watching the spectacle with interest. Never having any siblings or cousins, Emma had never had the opportunity to argue with such enthusiasm before.

All her relationships were businesslike; she’d never blown up at anyone like that before. It was fascinating to watch.

“Technically, Aidan is Colin’s uncle. Many times removed,” Reilly replied, draining the coffee cup.

“Really? You want to pull that out already?” Colin asked incredulously, turning on Reilly.

Emma’s head spun. How could that be? “Uncle?”

“Uncle Aidan, that’s me,” Aidan responded.

“It’s a convoluted tale, lass, and I’m hardly traceable to Colin through bloodlines.

Irish families—we’re enormous by default.

No need to worry, though. His reputation is so clean, I think if anyone did associate us, it would be only for the good of my brand. ”

The reminder hit its target—Emma was his employee.

She ignored the little stab of pain in her chest. He was right, of course.

She had to remember that she was not a part of this family, or any family.

She relied on herself, and while these interactions were interesting, they were not her concern. She gave a brief nod .

“We are done here,” Aidan said sharply. “Emma—get your coat. We’re leaving.”

“Save your commands for Cian,” Reilly snapped. “You’re not her laird.”