Page 14 of Ireland

“I’ll have the same,” Ronan said, his gaze on her as their glasses were filled.

“I’ll give you a minute with the menu,” Genevieve told them before walking away.

Ireland couldn’t take her eyes off Ronan, either. Against the backdrop of the brightly lit restaurant, his innate vitality was even more apparent. Strands of gold and dark copper shone in his hair, luring her to touch it and learn its texture. The gray of his irises reminded her of a storm rolling in from the Atlantic, swirling with mystery.

“I’m glad I could make it,” she told him.

“Me, too. I worried you might be having second thoughts.” His confident smile belied his words.

“I don’t entertain those as a rule,” she admitted. “I just ran into my dad unexpectedly and thought he might need me.” Her eyes widened. “Oh. Sorry. You might not have realized I’m from here. New York, I mean. I’m not visiting. I go to Jazzie’s sometimes because I like it.”

“It’s a great place. Everything turned out to be okay with your father, I take it?”

“He’ll be fine. Eventually. My mom just told us she’s getting remarried, and I think he’s going through some grief over it.They’ve been divorced over a decade now, so it’s not fresh, but it’s still going to be a shift in our family.” She sighed. “I don’t really know, honestly. I’m the last one in my family to find out when something’s wrong.”

“Are you estranged?” Reaching over, Ronan took her hand in his. An intimate undertone warmed his voice, and the way he held both her gaze and hand was comforting. That a man with his relentlessly powerful physicality could demonstrate such tenderness was irresistible.

“No, we’re very tight. I see all of them practically every day. Well, except my mother. I don’t see her every day, but we talk every day. I don’t know why they avoid telling me things.Importantthings. They tell me stupid, trivial stuff all the time, but if there’s a problem, they don’t want me to know about it until it’s resolved and tied up with a bow.”

His fingers squeezed hers gently before releasing her. “You’re too fierce for them. They fear what you’ll do.”

That made her smile. “They don’t know how fierce I am. I try to tell them, but I don’t think they believe me.”

“You must hide it then, although I don’t know how. The minute you walked into the bar, I saw it.”

“Yeah, well…” She laughed, delighted he’d noticed her before she’d inadvertently sat at his table. “I was a little angry when I got there.”

“A little? You verbally castrated a guy in front of his woman. And you relished every minute of it.”

Her mouth agape, it took her a moment to reply in disbelief. “There’s no way you heard that! No way. You were playing… the band was behind you…”

“I can read lips.”

“No.”

“I’m a man of many talents.” He gave her a roguish wink.

Ireland laughed. “Well… Now I know. And nowyouknow—don’t piss me off.”

“I admire your ferocity. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it even when directed at me.”

The simple statement touched her. It was a side of her even those closest to her had seldom seen.

“Genevieve is headed this way,” he told her. “Do you know what you want?”

You.

She almost said it. Instead, she confessed, “If I see shrimp and grits on a menu, that’s what I’m getting. You add andouille to it, as they do here, and it’s ultra guaranteed that’s what I’m ordering.”

“No one does it better than Valentin, except maybe his sister, Marcelle, but don’t tell him I said that.”

Ronan ordered for both of them, choosing the pork chop and Southern braised greens for himself. Genevieve inputted the order on a tablet, then smiled affectionately at him and gave a quick tug on the ends of his hair. Ireland had never felt such envy. Not that Genevieve was so transparently fond of him, but that the woman knew what his hair felt like and was free to touch it.

“You’ve forgotten to cut your hair,” she teased him.

Shrugging, he said, “Too busy.”

“I like it,” Ireland interjected. “Your hair.”

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