Page 6 of Troubles

4

Aidan

It’s been almost a week that I’ve been looking for her with every chime of the bell. Hoping to see her come back through the door of McBride’s. I’ve worked every shift I could in that time, not wanting to chance missing her. Francie went all protective when I asked about her, and Finn’s been useless for anything beyond her name and that I need to keep my distance. Jimmy, the other bartender who shares the flat, talks about her while we clean the bar and pour drinks.

He’s told me she’s at university, almost done with her program. That she works at Bistro Antonio across town—waiting tables and pouring cocktails. I went in there for lunch a couple days ago, hoping to see her, wanting to chat her up, but she wasn’t working. I hung out as long as I could without bleeding over into the dinner rush, but she must have been to class and I had my shift at McBride’s. I caught sight of her friend, the one Finn fancies, as I left, but no sign of Lisbeth.

Tuesday, I spend most of the day in New York City. I was able to arrange a meeting for a photo shoot. It’s not the journalistic side that I’m used to, but I miss being behind my camera, and shooting a few weddings for the right people will get me back to doing what I love.

The train ride in to New York City is a little over an hour, giving me plenty of time to think about what’s next for me. The rhythmic sway of the train lulls me deep into the introspection I’ve been trying to avoid lately. Tending bar has been a great mindless distraction, but with all the time I’ve taken off since Michael died, I probably need to focus a bit back on my career. After university, I fell into photojournalism and made excellent use of my cameras and passport. Until I got the call home.

If this meetup goes well, I’ll be able to fill more of my hours doing what I’m really good at—and pad my wallet as well.

A flash of auburn hair on the platform brings my thoughts back to the pub. It’s not her. I wouldn’t be that lucky, but I want to see her again. Spend an evening chatting her up. There’s something magnetic about her that draws me in. She’s stunning, yeah, but there’s something else—something more to it.

McBride’s car park is quite empty when I stop in on the way home from the train station for a pint and some dinner, and to plan for the photography job I just booked. I’m sure there’s nothing to eat at our flat since it was Finn’s turn to get food in.

Francie’s chatting with a man at the bar and Finn, of course, is busy with yet another girl.

I head to the kitchen and drop my dinner in the fryer. It’s just easier to do it myself than trying to get Finn’s fucking attention. And after setting my chicken tenders and chips on the bar, I start my pint and take stock of the bar. Finn is truly useless when he’s flirting, so I clean the glasses he’s let pile up, stock the fruit trays and wipe down the bar before topping up my pint, adding a shamrock flourish in the foam just for the hell of it.

As I reach out to place the glass next to my dinner, I’m met with the most beautiful green eyes—an almost olive green with gold and brown twisting through them. And they belong to her.

Dear God, help a poor bastard like myself.

“Hiya. What can I get for you?”

She smiles brightly, plump pink lips spread wide, and gives my plate a little nod. “That looks perfect. Did you know I was on my way?”

I smile back and wink, grabbing a glass for her. “I was hoping…only hoping.” She chuckles and points to the Guinness when I raise the glass and nod toward the taps. “Are you wanting some dinner as well, then?” I ask, leaving her pint to settle.

“Seriously, I’ll have exactly that.” Her eyes crinkle as she looks at my basket of food. “This guy’s obviously got fantastic taste.”

Chuckling, I place her pint in front of her and head to the kitchen dropping more food in the fryer. With a hard squeeze to his shoulder, I let Finn know to listen for the timer, grab the vinegar, and head ’round to settle in next to her at the bar.

“So, I’ve good taste, then? Here, take this one. Finn will bring mine out in a bit.” I move my basket closer to her. “I’ve not seen you in since St. Paddy’s.”

She grabs a chip and pops it in her mouth. Is she humming? Yeah, she’s fucking humming…and bouncing in her seat a bit. I can’t help the smile that quirks up on one side of my face. “You are correct. I haven’t been in since. I think I needed some time to process all that green beer.” Her small frown and scrunched-up nose tell me there’s something more.

“I never actually introduced myself, I’m Lisbeth. Lis, really.” She wipes her fingers on her thigh before reaching out to shake my hand. Just then, Finn drops my food on the bar in front of her.

“Lissy. How are ye?” Finn leans in for a peck on the cheek. “You’ve met Aidan, then?”

She slides the basket across the bar to me.

“We were just getting to that.” She thrusts her hand out again to shake.

The moment our fingers touch, that current runs through me again. Forgoing her hand, I grasp her wrist and pull her toward me. I press my lips together, intending only to brush a chaste kiss on her cheek, but she turns just then. Just a bit, but it’s enough that my lips land on the corner of her mouth, and time stills. Her eyes go wide before fluttering shut and I want to stay there, right there for the rest of my life. But fucking Francie chooses that moment to slam his glass on the bar making Lisbeth jump away. I’m pretty sure that was his intent by the murderous look in his eye.

What is his fucking deal? I’ve seen Finn and Jimmy flirting plenty with patrons and taking kisses far more intimate than that across the bar. She’s smiling shyly with her fingertips resting against her lips when I drag my eyes away from Francie. I give her all of my attention, pitching my voice low. “You didn’t think I’d let Finn have a kiss and just be satisfied with a handshake for myself, did you?” I turn back to my dinner giving her a moment to think about it.

She takes a long draught from her pint and lets out a contented breath—I want that satisfaction to be because of me. “No. I don’t suppose so,” she whispers, meeting my eyes in the mirror behind the bar. Mhmm.

“Tell me what you do when you’re not here, drinking pints with the help.”

She pops her last chip in her mouth and tilts her head back and forth while she chews. “I’m either in school or mixing drinks, myself. But I’ll be doing instruction hours in the hospital soon, too.”

“All of that? When do you find time for fun?”

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