Page 2 of Knot My Luck

Our eyes lock as we clink glasses. The lurid shot burns sweetly down my throat, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth in his viridescent gaze.

A shiver runs down my spine. For the first time since I left Cork all those years ago, I feel…alive. Maybe it’s just the holiday spirit. Maybe it’s this bar, packed with semi-familiar faces and memories I thought I’d buried. Or maybe it’s the way this handsome stranger is looking at me, like he already knows the answers to questions I’m not ready to ask.

I set my empty glass down, heart pounding. “I should get these over to the bride.”

He nods, stepping aside to let me pass, but not before leaning in and murmuring, “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

My cheeks flush as I balance the tray and make my way through the crowd. In the back of my mind, I can still hear the questions about Cathal and the silent judgment about how long I’ve been away. But in this moment, all I can think about is the stranger at the bar – his voice, his smile, and the promise I see in his jewelled eyes. And suddenly coming home doesn’t feel like such a huge mistake.

Smiling at my old friends, I hand out the shots one by one, my fingers still tingling from where the stranger’s hand brushed mine at the bar. Nuala giggles as she downs hers, the rest of the group cheering her on. Sinead immediately grabs my arm the second I set the tray down, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“All right, Devlin,” she says, leaning in close so I can hear her over the music. “Out with it. Who was that fella?”

“Yes! Spill the tea, girl!” Orla chimes in.

“Ah, don’t be holding out on us now,” Mary adds, eyes gleaming. Their drunken excitement – especially the way they’ve suddenly forgotten all about Cathal – has me laughing.

I try to play it cool, but the heat rising in my cheeks gives me away. “Ah, just some lad,” I say, a little too quick and easily slipping back into old speech patterns of home surrounded by so much nostalgia. “Offered to pay for the shots, so I let him.”

A ripple of knowing laughter spreads through the group, and I shake my head, though there’s no stopping the grin tugging at my lips. There’s justsomethingabout him, something that has me buzzing.

I glance over my shoulder, half-expecting him to be lost in the crowd by now. But no – he’s still there, propped against the bar like he hasn’t a care in the world, his eyes locked onto me. He doesn’t even pretend to look away when I catch him – just keeps staring, bold as brass, like he’s every right to.

“You’ve landed yourself a right one there,” Niamh says. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off you.”

My stomach flips. He’s tall and broad, the kind of alpha presence that draws attention without even trying. Of course, I’m making an assumption that he’s an alpha, but something tells me I’m right. Dark hair, intense green eyes, and a self-assured tilt to his head that makes me wonder what he’s like behind closed doors. My mind drifts, unbidden, to thoughts of being pressed against that hard body, of what it would feel like to give in to a spark that’s already crackling between us.

“Hello? Earth to Devlin?” Nuala waves a hand in front of my face, and I snap out of my daydream. My friends all smirk knowingly, as though they can guess exactly what’s on my mind.

I clear my throat, smoothing my hair behind my ear. “What?”

Sinead just laughs. “Ah, go on, girl. Sure, we won’t judge you for a bit of a holiday romance.”

I bite my lip, casting one more glance at the stranger. He’s still watching me, still making no effort to hide it. It sends a delicious thrill through my veins. Maybe it’s the St. Patrick’s Day energy or the fact that I haven’t felt this alive in a long time, but I’m already wondering how one night with him might change everything.

For now, I just lift my shot glass to my lips and down the neon liquor, heat blooming in my chest. One night, I think. One wild, reckless night might be exactly what I need. But for now, my focus is on catching up with the girls. It’s been too long, and as the alcohol starts to work its magic, I find myself enjoying their company.

The night stretches on, and before I know it, the girls are clamoring to head somewhere else – someplace with a dance floor and a DJ they know. I do a quick scan of the bar, my pulse kicking up in the hope that I’ll spot the mysterious alpha again. But he’s gone. A stab of disappointment twists in my chest. Part of me wishes I’d taken a chance when I had it. The rest of me is convinced it’s better this way.

Shortly after, we pile into a VIP booth at a new club, the bass from the speakers vibrating through the leather seats. A bottle of champagne appears, then a round of shots, and soon I’m on my feet with everyone else, letting the music flow through me. The crowd is a blur of green dress and shamrock accessories, and for once, I surrender to the carefree energy, pushing thoughts of the stranger to the back of my mind.

Then, strong hands settle on my hips. The heat of someone’s body presses up against my back, and I feel the steady rhythm of their movements in time with the pulsing beat. I close my eyes, letting myself get lost in the dance. It feels so good to just…let go. My heart thrums with the bass, my senses dulled by the swirl of liquor and neon lights.

A ripple of laughter from my friends draws my attention. I open my eyes to see them smirking, giving me knowing looks. Curiosity flares in my chest, and I turn around, pulse in my throat. My breath catches.

It’s him.

The alpha from the bar, looking at me with that same unflinching emerald intensity. Relief surges through me, and I slip my arms around his neck, leaning into the heat of his body as the music thunders around us. His gorgeous cologne envelops me and I inhale deeply, drowning in him.

We dance wordlessly for a while, the crowd pulsing around us, the neon lights flashing. Finally, I force myself to speak, my voice sounding low and breathless in my own ears. “What are you doing here?”

He leans down, his mouth close to my ear. “I couldn’t bear to let you slip away.”

My heart skips a beat at his confession. Instead of pulling away, I let his words wash over me, and I find myself drawing him closer. The thrum of the bass and the glow of the club make everything else fade away, leaving only the possibility of what might come next.

The pulsing beat of the club wraps around us as we continue to move in sync on the dance floor. I feel his warm breath on my ear as he leans in, a gentle urgency in his tone as he begins, “I’m?—”

Before he can finish, I press my finger lightly against his lips, halting his words. “No names tonight,” I say, my voice almost lost in the music. “Let’s just enjoy each other’s company and see where the night leads.”

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