Page 4 of Troubles

“He did—he’s gone, mate.” I follow his line of sight and see her smiling at her friend finally relaxing a bit. “What’s her story? She’s gorgeous.”

“Don’t. Just leave that alone. She’s special.” He makes a good effort of puffing up his chest and trying to make sure I know he’s serious.

“Right.” No way I’m intimidated by this pup, but we’re obviously done talking for now. Scanning the room, I can’t help but to find her in the crowd—her pull magnetic.

She’s beautiful—gorgeous, really. Auburn hair cascades in a mass of curls down her back. I think of the silky strand that passed through my fingers in the storeroom—and her deep green eyes.

I fill several more pitchers answering the same question I’ve heard all night long. You’re new here, right? So, are you really Irish? The accent and a little bit of flirting can accomplish just about anything I need it to, and the girls here are drawn to it like flies to honey. My tip jar is full up again, and there’s still hours yet to go.

The night feels like it’ll never end. Pushing my hair back again and holding it there, I glance slowly around the room, hoping to see it starting to clear out. I’m completely disappointed to see it’s just as packed as it has been since we opened today. My gaze bounces around the room until I find her.

Finn mentioned her name, but that was hours and hundreds of pitchers ago. I wonder about her story, trying to work it out in my mind as I think about the timid, self-conscious way she holds herself. The way Francie and Finn seem to wrap her up and look out for her. The photographer in me wants to capture her image. Tease out the sadness she holds in her eyes. This girl is absolutely gorgeous. Stunning. But she’s seen some troubles.

She darts her gaze away from me, back to the conversation flowing around her. I can’t help my smile and shake my head, chuckling under my breath. As much as I was working her out in my mind, I just busted her checking me out. And that’s okay. I like that she was looking at me. The idea that maybe she’s trying to figure out my story as well. I don’t want to think of that tonight.

It’s coming on four in the morning when Francie finally starts ushering the last of the people out the door. I head to the back and put the keg of Guinness back on tap and pour one for myself and Finn. There’s no way I’m closing out this night without having at least one. Francie’s shrill whistle hits me from where he’s shuffling people out the front door. He nods at the tap with a little bit of longing in his eye, so I pull a pint for him as well.

Coming around the bar, with three pints in one hand and snagging a bag of rubbish with the other, I do a quick scan and see the last handful of people heading for the door. What I don’t see is the blur of luscious curves coming out of the storage room. I have no time to move—barely time to brace myself—I drop the trash, and wrap my arm around the stumbling girl to keep her from falling.

Again.

“Ohmygod, shit. Ohmygod.”

The minute I realize who I’ve got my arm wrapped around, I pull her a little closer, hold on a little tighter. “You’re alright, then?” Her arms are trapped between us, one hand pressed flat to my chest. Everywhere we’re pressed together, from hip to shoulder, tingles like there’s some kind of current running between us.

Slowly, she tilts her head back and looks up at me, her eyes wide and sparkling. “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s three.” I smile down at her, not quite ready to let her go. Her brows pinch together as she purses her lips, confusion washing over her perfect features. “I’ve saved you three times tonight.”

“You have.” She straightens, pulling away from me. “Thank you…really. I…I—um, thank you, for everything.” Her voice is soft and shy. I keep my arm wrapped round her a bit longer than I need to, because I want to. But when I finally let her go, I feel the loss of her body pressed up against me far more than I should. She steps back with an awkward smile quirking at her lips.

“G’night, then.”

“Good night.” She turns away, going straight to Finn and Francie, hugging them and gracing each with a kiss on the cheek. Her attention briefly lands on me as she and her friend trip out the door a little unsteady on their feet. Arms linked and heads tilted together like they’re sharing a secret.

“Francie.” I prop the door open with my shoulder, letting the early morning air sweep through the pub. I watch the two girls walk away, the streetlights spotlighting their path as they go. “They’re alright walking home this late, yeah?”

He stands on the walkway out in front of his pub; his pint in one hand and the other stroking his beard as he narrows his eyes on the girls. Several blocks away now, she turns and waves before disappearing into the small apartment building. “She knows I’ve got her back.” Francie fixes me with a pointed stare, brows pinched in earnest.

That message is delivered loud and clear.

3

Lis

Gracyn and I are completely holding each other up as we pick our way down the sidewalk to our apartment. We share a second-floor apartment in an old building just off the town square. “Holy shit, Gracyn. What even happened tonight?”

“Did you kiss him? Were you licking him in the storeroom?” She tries to hip bump me but misses, and I have to grab her so she doesn’t fall. “You were so kissing him, right?”

“Nope.” I sigh, but I really wanted to.

“Liiiissss,” she draws my name way out dramatically, “but, did you see? Did you see how he rescued you? It was like a fairy tale.” Gracyn’s leaning all her weight into me, her head tilted—almost resting on my shoulder.

I did see it, and I can still feel the heat from his touch lingering on my back. Where our bodies were aligned from my hip all the way up to my chest. If I closed my eyes, I swear I can feel the hard planes of his chest against the palms of my hands. But if I do close them, I’m pretty sure the two of us will bust ass and I know Francie is watching from the doorway to make sure we get home safe.

“Which time?” I swing my still-wet shirt back and forth, trying to keep my mind from wandering back to Aidan. The feel of him. “He saved me more than once tonight, G.” Rob never went out of his way to do anything for me. He just broke my heart.

Gracyn climbs the steps to unlock our door as I turn to wave at Francie. But Francie’s not standing outside alone. Aidan is with him—leaning against the door drinking his pint. He raises his glass and nods to me before we each turn, disappearing into the warmth inside.

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