Page 34 of The Barista's Beloved

“Wait, explain that again?”Ben took a bite of his hot dog as Maeve pointed out the various positions on the field. Several stories below, Ireland played Australia in an exhibition match meant to increase interest in rugby in the U.S.

Back when he’d first started working in the city, Ben had known a few guys who’d played for a club in San Francisco, and he’d been to Kezar’s with them a couple of times to watch the big international matches, but he’d never seen anything like this in person. The men on the field were massive, making the guys Ben had known look like middle schoolers. He was pretty sure one of them was legitimately seven feet tall.

And he didn’t even want to think about how banged up they’d be the following day. He winced and rubbed the bruise on his thigh he’d gotten when he’d accidentally banged into the small dining table in his apartment on the way to the bathroom last night. He was fit, and in good shape, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not cut out for the gladiator-style shit taking place below them.

“G’wan, Declan!” Maeve jumped to her feet and pointed at the field as a man in a green number ten jersey streaked past a mob of defenders and toward the end zone. Err, the try zone. He was still getting the hang of all the new terminology she’d tried to teach him on the drive down from River Hill “Help him out, lads!” she hollered, which was immediately followed by an angry roar. She threw her hands up when the player she’d been cheering for was tackled and the ball bounced out of his grip and into the hands of a waiting Australian. To her apparent relief, the Aussie was immediately tackled and the ref blew his whistle, signaling the end of play.

Maeve dropped back down into her seat and let out a long sigh. “He had no support.” She was speaking to him, her Irish accent as thick as he’d ever heard it, but her eyes had stayed glued to the field, her face red and her hands balled into tight fists on her knees. Her shoulders were up around her ears, and every muscle in her body was strung tight as she followed the action below.

Watching her, Ben wondered if he’d made a mistake in getting the tickets for their date. He’d seen them on Craigslist for a steal, and had thought giving Maeve a taste of Ireland would be a nice treat, but now he wasn’t so sure. His kind, sweet Maeve was an entirely different creature here. While he’d seen her lose her temper twice with their friends, he’d never seen her this worked up.

It was … kind of arousing, come to think of it.

He had a feeling it was a side of her most of their friends, save her brother, hadn’t ever seen. She was the nice one, the do-gooder who tried to see positivity in every situation. And because of that, people often thought she was naive. She wasn’t. She was just a supremely decent human being. One with a tough streak a mile wide when it came to rugby, apparently.

“Get him!” she shouted when the Australian fullback made a clean break, only to get crunched between four Irish players before being flattened to the grass. “Yes!”

A couple of seconds later, the game was halted while medics made their way onto the field to treat a serious gash over his eye that had coated the front of his jersey in bright red blood.

He glanced at Maeve, who had a wide grin on her face. As if sensing him staring, she turned to him and raised her eyebrows. “What? That guy’s a homophobic cunt who shouldn’t even be allowed to play given the shit he spouts on social media.”

Ben felt his smile growing wide. “You’re amazing.”

She did a double take. “What, why? That’s just common decency.”

He chuckled, and shook his head fondly, lacing their fingers together. “You’re fun, Maeve Brennan.”

She smiled at him and then dragged her attention back to the field. But instead of pulling her hand away, she leaned closer and rested her head on his shoulder as she watched the rest of the game unfold.

In the grand scheme of things, a date to a rugby match wasn’t a huge deal. And sitting here with her hand twined with his was the most innocent thing in the world. And yet, it was a big deal. Max hadn’t lied when he’d said that Ben hadn’t been serious about anyone since high school. Hell, he hadn’t been in a real relationship since he was sixteen and Maisie Wagner had broken his heart right before homecoming. He’d almost forgotten how good it could feel to simply hold hands with someone you cared about, how … right. Yeah, that was the word. Everything about him and Maeve felt right.

He just hoped he knew how to make it last.

A cheer went up and Maeve surged to her feet, bringing him with her. “Whoooo!” she hollered as Irish players jumped into each other’s arms and slapped one another on the back. On the pitch and in the stands, players and fans alike celebrated Ireland’s win over Australia.

Maeve tugged on Ben’s hand. “Come on. I have a surprise for you.” She bounced on the balls of her feet, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Oh yeah?” he asked as they inched their way down the row to the exit.

She nodded. “Yup.”

He pulled her out of the aisle and into a cinder block alcove, wrapping his arms around her waist. “What kind of surprise?”

“Remember when I said my family is one of the team’s sponsors?”

Ben nodded. Sometimes he forgot that Maeve came from money. Brennan’s Irish Whiskey was to spirits as Guinness was to beer, and yet you’d never know it by looking at her. Dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved black cotton shirt with an Ireland scarf draped around her shoulders, she was the very picture of casual.

She shuffled closer and smiled up at him, her green eyes twinkling in the glow from the stadium lights. “It turns out sponsors get a suite at the hotel down the street.”

Ben tried to hide his surprise. On the drive there, she’d mentioned that she was glad he didn’t have work the next day, and Ben had hoped that meant she was going to invite him to spend the night when they got back to River Hill. Apparently, she had other plans.

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded. “I talked with my oldest brother this morning. It’s ours if we want it.” She glanced away, suddenly shy.

Ben fingers bracketed her chin and he guided her face back around. Leaning forward, his lips hovered enticingly over hers. “Oh, I want.” And then he kissed her soundly, proving to her just how badly.

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