Page 42

I’d had a plan—a simple one. Give as good as I’d been getting. Make her feel all the things I’d been feeling for the past six months—hell, the past three years—while keeping my own response in check.
Usually something I’m good at.
The only thing I learned is that I like what happens when I push you.
That’s all it took. All she had to say before I was yanking down her pants and finger fucking her in the hallway.
The guy I’d been 24 hours ago would never do something like that. He wouldn’t have let things get so out of hand. He wouldn’t have tackled her like a sexually deranged linebacker. He wouldn’t have taken her to the brink of coming and then left her there without delivering.
And he wouldn’t have felt so good about it either.
I rub my hair dry and get dressed—cargos and a random t-shirt—before I realize I still haven’t shaved. Not wanting to risk another visit to the bathroom, I make a beeline for the living room. Stopping only long enough to pull on a pair of shoes and snag my laundry basket, I head out the door.
When I leave, her bedroom door is still shut.
I don’t go far. Heading downstairs I round the bar to see Declan behind it, building a round of Black and Tans for a bunch of rowdy locals in the back of the bar, watching the Sox game.
He gives me a chin jerk and tosses me a key as I walk past the bar before reverting his attention to the pints he’s working under the taps. Carrying my load of clothes down the hall, I use the key he tossed me to unlock the office where we keep a stackable washer and dryer. Adding soap to my load of clothes, I set the dial before locking the office on my way out.
When I get back, Lisa is standing at the bar, waiting for her order. When she sees me, she smiles and I smile back as I slide onto a worn leather stool. “Hi, Patrick,” she says, looking at me through her lashes while Declan sets the last of her order on her tray.
“Hey,” I say, gaze straight ahead as she walks past to deliver the round.
“Con told me but I was sure he was full of shit,” Declan says as soon as she’s out of ear shot.
“What?” I look up to catch his expression. He’s either amused or concerned. With Dec, it’s hard to tell.
He sets a pint of Harps in front of me and shakes his head. “She’s more trouble than she’s worth,” he says, whipping the towel of his shoulder to wipe down the bar between us. “Trust me, you don’t want to go there.”
I think he’s talking about Cari and I feel my jaw flex, the muscles in my neck going tight. I’ve known Cari for years but that didn’t mean I know about every guy she’s been with. The thought of her and Declan together makes me want to hurt something. Namely him.
Before I can say anything, he continues. “I dated her for a few months in high school,” he says, shaking his head. “She’s crazy. Like, bag-full-of-cats crazy.”
He’s talking about Lisa. I pick up my beer to cover up the fact that I’d been three seconds away from committing assault over just the thought of Cari with someone else and even though it was a simple misunderstanding, I can’t quite shake the anger that’s clawed its way into my gut.
I shrug, already done with the conversation. “It was over before it even started,” I say setting my pint on the napkin he tossed in front of me. “And I’m not looking for a do over.”
“Really?” Declan says, arching an eyebrow at me. “Does she know that?”
“She’ll get the picture.” I lean back on my stool, elbows resting on the edge of the bar, gaze glued to the muted television behind him. “Eventually.”
“Yeah?” Declan looked at me for a second before letting out a low laugh. “You heard the part about her being nuts, right?”
I think he might be right and it feels strange not to care. Before I can tell him to drop it, light streaks across the dark Mahogany bar as someone comes through the door, drawing his attention. Ready to call out a friendly greeting to his new customer, Declan sees who it is and tenses, his fingers tightening around the towel in his hand before he drops his gaze, the greeting never uttered. Curiosity getting the better of me, I shoot a quick look past my shoulder to see who has my control freak, over-achieving cousin polishing rocks glasses like his life depended on it.
It’s Tess. She shoots me an I-know-your-secret look as she strides past the bar before bouncing it up, letting her gaze skim past Declan, barely acknowledging his presence before landing it on the Sox game going on over his head.
Ouch.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I say, lifting my pint and draining it. I set it on the bar and nudge it forward. After our construction business took off, Declan rarely worked weekends. Matter of fact he only works Thursdays and that’s just so he can keep Conner’s bathroom conquests to an absolute minimum. The thought of Conner left alone to tend bar on Ladies’ Night was as awe-inspiring as it was frightening.
“Con’s backed up at the garage and Da’s taken Mom away for the weekend.” He looks relieved that I’m not peppering him with questions about what I just witnessed. “It’s their anniversary.” He sets a fresh pint in from of me. A reward for minding my own business.
I lift the pint and shake my head. “You should’ve told me. It’s my—”
I hear her before I see her and I can’t stop myself for looking in her direction as she steps off the stairs and into the bar. She’s wearing her loose sundress; the one I tease her about looking like a blue potato sack. It’s about as sexy as a hospital johnny but the sight of her in it jerks at my cock like a divining rod. Because I know what’s underneath it.
She looks directly at me. Challenging me, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking and I have to force myself not to look way. To give as good as I got without dragging her back upstairs to finish what I started this morning.