Page 66 of Trying Sophie

“Does this … approach … usually work for you?”

Her face was filled with mistrust and skepticism.

“Um …” I answered dumbly, because I hadn’t been prepared for that quick shift.

“Oh my god, it does!” She declared laughing. “Women love that shit, don’t they? I bet they fall all over themselves when you come on to them like that.”

I was at a complete loss how to salvage this, had absolutely no idea how to woo her. And the fact that I’d thought a word like “woo” made we want vomit. I didn’t woo women. They came to me. I didn’t need to beg Sophie to give me a chance. I could walk out of this pub, hop in my car, and be buried balls deep in someone eager for my company in less than an hour.

Those days are behind you, I reminded myself, disgusted I’d even had the thought.

And besides, I didn’t want some nameless, faceless bird. The only woman I wanted was standing right in front of me. Taunting me, yes, but I’d just have to find a way around that.

Standing, I spun the chair back around and sat, planting my forearms on my thighs. I captured Sophie’s gaze and she went still. I nodded at her chair and she fell into it without putting up a fight. The easy way she’d followed my silent command sent a jolt through me. Maybe Colm was on to something earlier when he’d talked about taming her, because right now the idea of bringing Sophie to heel was intoxicating.

“Here’s the honest to God truth Sophie. I don’t pursue women. They come to me and we fuck before I send them on their merry way.”

She flinched, but I kept going. “I don’t date; do you understand?”

Numbly, she shook her head.

“Good. So you understand what a big fucking deal it is that I’m sitting in your grandparents’ kitchen trying to charm you into spending time with me.”

The room was so silent you could have heard a pin drop. I’d wanted to be honest but the second I started speaking things I hadn’t meant to say came barreling out of my mouth.

“Well, I’ll give you points for honesty,” she finally said. “But I’m going to deduct a point or two for reminding me why I shouldn’t get involved with you.”

“But—”

She held up her finger and I bit my tongue. I’d said enough anyhow.

“Here’s the deal,” she said, leaning forward to mimic my body language. “I’m leaving in a little over a month. I hadn’t wanted any distractions, but the truth is, Declan O’Shaughnessy, you’re quite the distraction.”

Her eyes roved over my body, settling on my cock before she raised them back to my lips, then my own eyes. Electricity cracked between us and I was tempted to reach out and touch her. While I debated the wisdom of that, she stood and moved away.

Switching topics, as if she hadn’t just blatantly come on to me, she continued, “As much as it pains me to admit it, you bring up a good point about my sponsors wanting fresh content. So you’ve got yourself a deal: a day in Dublin for you to show me all your favorite haunts.”

The more she spoke, the faster my heart raced. I couldn’t believe I was going to get my day with her after all. And your night, the devil on my shoulder added hopefully. I pictured the little fucker rubbing his hands together with anticipatory glee.

I started to tell her about my favorite coffee shop since I knew it was the key to her soul, but she shut me up with a shake of her head and a narrowing of her eyes.

“But I have a few conditions.”

“Anything,” I answered.

I’d do whatever she wanted if it meant spending time with her away from Ballycurra and all its prying eyes. Even if that meant I’d go home at the end of the day with the bluest balls anyone had ever seen.

That’s when I knew I was in trouble.

She eyed me skeptically. “First of all, this is not a date.”

Shit.

“Agreed.”

“This is nothing but one friend showing another around town.”

Fuck.

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