Page 28 of Mob Knight

He’s not in one of his three-piece suits like he was the last two times and like he has been in most of the photos I found online. In those images, if he wasn’t in a regular suit, he was in a tux.

Instead, he’s in a midnight blue shirt with tan slacks. He has the sleeves rolled up to just above his elbows, the throat open to the second button. He looks sexier than sin on a stick. The way his shirt pulls across his biceps and his chest leaves me wanting to drool.

Seamus, Finn, and Dillan are dressed similarly, but they do nothing for me. Even Seamus, who looks so much like Cormac, is ridiculously attractive. I couldn’t care less. My attention is strictly on Cormac now. Riveted, you might say.

Chapter Eight

Cormac

I can’t believe Joey’s standing in front of me at McGinty’s, and I can’t believe I just insinuated rolling around while fucking her. She might not realize it, but the guys are already giving me shite. They’re going to bust my balls as soon as she’s gone, but for right now, they’ve just got their shite eating grins in place. For anyone who doesn’t know my family, they appear charming. I could throat punch them all.

My gaze meets Dillan’s. My expression doesn’t change except my stare gets more intense. He knows they’re pissing me off, and they’re about a breath away from pushing me too far. He nudges Finn who glances at me. Seamus notices because his gaze darts to me.

“It was nice meeting you, Jocelyn. I need to get back to the bar.”

Finn excuses himself with a smile and nod to her friends, who barely keep their drool from puddling on the table. Finn’s the pretty one.

“Mair’s going to wonder where I went. I came out to get her some 7-Up.”

Dillan offers the same smile and nod before he strides to the bar to get his pregnant wife something to settle her afternoon sickness. So much for just mornings. The poor woman’s sick around the clock. Seamus appears in no hurry, which might be a blessing in disguise. He’s keeping the women occupied while I come up with something to say to Joey. I know that won’t last much longer since I see the flush starting at the base of his neck. It matches mine since neither of us enjoy striking up conversations with strangers.

I suddenly feel tongue tied and regret chasing my cousins off. Neither of them is as shy as Seamus and me. We’re the most introverted of the cousins, even if our parents are the least introverted of their siblings. I need to come up with something since I already know Joey’s been here before. The ball’s in my court, and it’s rolling out of bounds.

“Did I interrupt a meeting or something?” Joey’s gaze sweeps the bar before glancing down at my shirt, which is far more casual than she’s seen me in before.

“No. I stopped by to read some documents Finn asked me about. Dillan’s wife was going to help out tonight since Finn’s short a waitress, but she’s not feeling well. Dillan swung by to check on her.”

Check on her means he’ll insist she go home where he can hover and practically force feed her saltines. He’s no better than Finn was a few months ago when his wife, Ally, was going through morning sickness.

“That’s sweet. But if she’s sick…” Joey watches a bartender deliver a tray of drinks.

“It’s morning sickness, nothing contagious.”

Her eyes widen as she nods, then she shoots a sympathetic glance toward the hallway Dillan disappeared down. Sympathy or empathy? Does she know how Mair feels? I didn’t think about that before just now.

“Jocelyn, we’re going to play darts.” One woman stands next to Joey as the other two slide out of the booth.

I know they hid their purses under their jackets. Fortunately for them, no one here would dare steal anything from anyone unless my brother, cousins, or I ordered it. Anywhere else, it would be foolish. As though thieves don’t know people hide shite like that.

“Do you play?” Joey watches her friends walk to the corner where the boards are on the wall.

“This bar was my nana’s before Finn inherited it. I practically grew up in it since Nana watched all of us after school until our parents could pick us up.” I can’t believe I shared that.

“But do you play? Or should I ask if you’re any good?”

“I can hold my own. Do you play pool?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a table free, so we walk over. I watch her rack the balls after we flip to see who’ll go first, and I wonder if she’s a ringer. Good thing we’re only playing for the quarters we each put down. She’s about to win twenty-five cents.

“Solids.”

I nod and speak, having just watched her sink three stripes with the first shot. She moves her way around the table, and it’s obvious she’s not just a natural. She’s had practice. I step back to let her shoot where I just stood. Her arse is directly in front of me, and I’d love nothing more than to grab her hips and sink into her cunt.

It’s the first shot she’s missed. When she stands and glances over her shoulder, I watch her swallow. Maybe she was more unsettled than she looked. It’s crowded enough to justify how my body grazes against hers as I step around her. It’s my turn to lean over the table with my cue. I pray I don’t make an arse of myself as I inhale. I’m handy with a pool stick, but it’s usually not when I’m trying to get a ball in a pocket. I make my target, but onlythat ball. I breathe a little easier. I move on to the next one and miss. So much for impressing her.

Her eyes narrow as she steps in front of me. “You aren’t going to throw this, are you?”

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