Page 28 of Dublin Brute

And I don’t know how to handle it.

I claim a second raspberry macaron and let the blend of tart and sweet explode in my mouth. The soft murmur of voices is enough to remind me we’re not alone, but distant enough that our conversation is private.

Would he be so outwardly flirtatious if people were around? Does a guy like him worry about optics? I’m certainly not the arm candy people expect when they see a man like him.

“Hey, where’d you go just now and how do I get your smile back?” Brendan sets his spoonful of stew back into his bowl and leans toward the table. “Is something wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”

“Yes,” I say before my mind can catch up with me.

He looks stricken. “What? Whatever it was, I?—”

I wave away his concern. “Sorry. I’m very uncomfortable with compliments and having you go to such lengths and saying things like me being beautiful or intelligent, it just strikes a chord of dissonance in me.”

A look of sheer violent fury darkens the emerald green of his eyes before it’s pushed away and replaced by sadness. He reaches across the table, captures my wrist, and brings my palm to his lips. His kiss is warm as he bends his head, his full lips brushing over my racing pulse.

But even with his head down, his gaze remains locked on mine.

Tingles spread across my skin and up my arm as something wicked flashes in those piercing eyes. He pinches the fleshy pad of my thumb between his teeth, a startled gasp escaping my lips before he releases his bite and kisses away the sting. “Do I have your full attention, angel?”

I swallow and dip my chin, my mind too scattered to speak.

“I never say things I don’t mean. And if me telling you how I see you is uncomfortable, you’ll simply have to take my word for it until you accept it as truth. What I find most upsetting is that you don’t already know it. Someone or many someones have failed you, gorgeous, because you should’ve been showered with praise your entire life and know how special you are.”

I drop my gaze, blinking quickly, fighting back the sting of tears.

My pulse is whooshing loudly in my ears, and I fight to pull myself back together. Brendan sees too much—it unravels me.

“I’m ruining this.”

He doesn’t need to answer.

When he gets up from his seat, I know it’s the truth.

Lost in my self-recrimination, I miss his movements until he is suddenly sliding into the booth next to me, taking my jaw in his gentle grip. His hand is massive, his fingers strong and warm as they grip my cheeks.

“Look at me, Nora.” There’s a growl to his voice that resonates inside of me, speaking to something dangerous and carnal. It’s in his eyes, too, a warning of something I don’t yet understand. “You’ve ruined nothing. I wanted to get to know you and let you get to know me. We’re doing that. We may not be making small talk about our favorite colors or what we do in our spare time, but this is better—it’s real.”

Is it? It feels more surreal to me than real…but maybe that’s just me.

“Now, I’m aching to kiss you, and normally I’d push in and do my thing, but you’re special and skeptical, and I don’t want to rush you.”

My mind blanks out, all my girl parts weighing in at once. What topsy-turvy world have I been transported to? “You want to kissme? Seriously?”

He scoffs, a low grumble tearing from his throat. “From the moment I laid over you, I’ve thought of little else.”

There’s not an ounce of hesitation in his words and how sexy is that? I can’t imagine being so confident that I could put myself out there like that. Then again, look at this guy. He’s probably never had a woman turn him down in his entire life.

That reality cuts with a double-edged blade. It’s super flattering and hot that he likes me, but wow, how am I supposed to stand up next to the women who have come before?

“AnnndI’ve lost you again.” Brendan frowns, rubbing his thumb over my cheek. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Nora? One moment you’re here with me and you’re smiling and then the light drains out of you, and you shrink into yourself and become small.”

Is that what I’m doing?

Has my father’s paranoia and doubt rooted itself so deeply in me, I instinctively shy away from things that might make me happy?

“I’m sorry.” I let out a long sigh and swivel on the bend to face him fully. “You’re not wrong. Tanya was the one who made me realize my home life situation was toxic. We had big plans. We were going to get better-paying jobs, rent our own flat, and live life with gusto.”

His gaze softens. “It sounds like she was a great friend.”

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