Page 10 of Ciaran

“These are amazing.”

He nods. “I agree.”

“I think they may be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Now the moment I dreaded is over—Ciaran’s interest in my past—I can finally relax. “To great food, and even better company.” I tap my wineglass against Ciaran’s. “Tell me about your job. I have to say, if I’d inherited a million dollars, I doubt I’d choose a career as dangerous as a police officer.”

When he takes a sip of wine, his throat bobs as he swallows, and I have to drag my gaze away.

“I don’t think I ever shared why I wanted to join the NYPD.”

With my interest piqued, I angle my body forward. “No, you didn’t.” I dig into another mussel. Surviving on ramen after tasting food this good will be tricky. I should make the most of every mouthful.

“My paternal grandfather got a job with the NYPD when he arrived from Ireland. He stayed with them his entire working life, always doing good, helping others. After he retired, he still volunteered on occasion. I don’t think he knew what to do with himself. He and I were incredibly close, so it made sense I’d lean that way. But my grandfather’s legacy wasn’t my main reason for joining up.” A cloud drifts across his face, and his eyes glaze over for a few moments. “When I was eight, my gran got mugged by a teenager who’d fallen in with a street gang. She died a few days later. Gramps never recovered. He died a few months after her.”

My hand covers my mouth. “Oh, Ciaran. I’m so sorry.”

“I still miss them both, but him especially. After that drunk driver killed my parents, it solidified my decision. I guess by joining the force, I’m doing my bit to save another victim from the kind of pain my family suffered. It’s also why I used my inheritance to launch a charity which helps victims of crime, rather than to go into business like my brothers. All I want is to play my part in making the world that little bit better. It means more to me than money or things. It’s people that matter.”

Beautiful, kind, and altruistic. This guy deserves all the happiness the world can throw at him, and more besides.

“That’s an incredibly generous thing to do.”

“Not really. It was the right decision for me. Callum made it clear he thought I had rocks for brains.” He laughs. “Yet more proof that we might look identical, but we’re not.”

No, you’re not. I feel as if I’ve been given a new pair of glasses and I’m seeing things I never noticed before.

He sips his wine, watching me over the rim of his glass and casually tossing in, “So, about this job you said you needed.”

I swallow. I hadn’t wanted to bring it up. It seemed…crass somehow. But now he has, hope blossoms within me.

“Oh, yeah,” I say, keeping my tone matter of fact, even as nerves rampage through my tummy. “You mentioned something about that yesterday.”

Please know something. Please know someone. Please let it be real.

“One of Declan’s front desk clerks at the hotel is leaving to have her second baby, and she’s already told him she doesn’t plan to return after her maternity leave. I’m sure it’s not your dream job,” he continues, oblivious to the relief storming through me, “but the pay isn’t bad. Although sometimes the hours can be long if Declan is short of cover, especially during holidays and the like. And you may have to double up as bartender slash customer liaison slash whatever role Declan can dream up when the need arises.”

I touch my throat. “That would be fantastic. Really amazing. I don’t have any experience, though.” Heat fills my cheeks. Do I sound too desperate?

He flicks his wrist. “You’re great with people; that’s the only essential element. Tanya can teach you everything else before she leaves.”

“And is Declan okay with it? Y’know… with it being his hotel and all.”

“He’s more than okay. Saves him the headache of finding someone trustworthy.”

A grin tugs at my lips until I’m beaming. I clutch his hand and give it a squeeze, the voluntary show of affection surprising me. “Thank you. Thank you so much. You’ve saved my life.”

A flicker of emotion I can’t read crosses his face, and I withdraw my hand, but he captures it inside his much larger one. He gently brushes his thumb over my knuckles, those smoldering emerald eyes locked on mine. I’m torn between my instincts to pull away and my desire to drown in how Ciaran is making me feel—safe and secure, of course, but there’s something more. Something deeper.

No, I’m being silly and seeing things that aren’t there. Ciaran is just being friendly. He hadn’t shown the slightest romantic interest in me at high school. Callum was the one who relentlessly chased me, then got bored real quick once he’d caught his prey.

Callum! Oh no. Surely, he won’t want his ex-girlfriend hanging around, albeit our relationship was brief and relatively innocent. Translated, we hadn’t slept together, but we had kissed, like teenagers did, as though our very survival depended on locking lips at every spare moment.

I withdraw my hand from Ciaran’s, but only so I can sweep it over my face. “I’m sorry, Ciaran, but I can’t take it.”

I have to give the poor guy credit. He handles his confusion pretty well: a frown, followed by a nose wrinkle, a twist of his lips before shaking his head. “Why not?”

“Callum,” I say with a sigh. “I can imagine he won’t be too happy with me working at the hotel.”

His lips thin. “You leave Callum to me.”

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