Page 4 of Pints & Potions

“Interesting. When exactly did you make this bet? Since I’ve been here, you’ve been on stage or in front of me.”

Cian could see his sister’s smirk from the corner of his eye. The patrons of the pub had grown quiet to watch the interplay between Piper and him.

“She has you there, Cian!” someone hollered.

“It’s implied,” Cian informed her without missing a beat, ignoring his heckler.

Her left brow practically shot to her hairline and she bit one corner of the plump lip he was dying to sample.

“One taste, darlin’. That’s all I’m hoping for. Then I can die a happy man,” he said softly.

“Who am I to stand in the way of tradition?”

He wasn’t sure he heard her correctly, but he didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. Swooping in, hands cupping her exquisite face, he claimed his prize. When their lips connected, warning bells sounded in his brain. This long-legged dream of a woman was dangerous to his well-being.

Her arms went around his neck, and her fingers wound their way through his hair. Her light caress on his scalp sent desire racing through his entire body like a runaway train. He tightened his hold and had his eyes been open, he’d have closed them in ecstasy. Hoots and catcalls sounded around them, but Cian was damned if he could sever their connection.

That wasuntila cold blast of water from his right side dampened his ardor.

“Bridget, you she-devil!” he swore.

“Stop mauling the customers and get back to strumming. We have a pub to entertain.”

“Oh, you can be sure we were entertained,mo ghrá!” A male voice called out from a table in the far back reaches of the pub.

“I’m not your love, Ruairí O’Connor. And you’d best be remembering your manners in my pub.”

“You’d be my everything if you give me a chance, Bridg,” Ruairí returned.

“Pfft.” She rolled her eyes. “Right. You say that to me and every other woman within a hundred-kilometre radius.” Bridget winked in Piper’s direction. “Don’t believe any of these wankers, girl. They delight in pulling your leg. My brother Cian is the worst of the lot. You’re the fifth woman he’s hit on this week.”

Piper turned disappointed eyes on him but didn’t look surprised.

Cian felt a tightening in his chest and scowled at his sister from where he stood behind Piper. “Now, don’t be spreading tales, Bridget. You’ll have my darlin’ Piper believing the worst of us.” He swept aside the hair from Piper’s neck and leaned in to whisper. “Ignore her. She’s out to kick a man in the bollocks on her best day. Will you stick around for my next set? I’ll dedicate a song to you.”

“It’s been a long day. Maybe next time,” she demurred, apology heavy in her voice.

Although it sounded as if she’d like nothing better than to hang out for another beer and to flirt with him, she also looked like she was on her last leg.

“Are you stayin’ local?”

She nodded. “For a few days.”

“Good. I’ll walk you back to your hotel.”

“No need, I’m only right next door at the B&B.”

“Humor me.”

The steely tone caused her to frown and most likely had her wondering where his charming Irish accent had gone. She was clever enough to realize he laid it on a little thicker for the tourists, and Cian surmised it was why she didn’t say anything.

“You can trust him to walk you to your room, Piper,” Bridget assured her as she drew another Guinness from the tap. “He knows if he disappears on me, there’ll be the devil to pay.” Addressing Cian, Bridget warned, “Five minutes. Any longer, and I’ll come for you myself.”

Seamus snorted and said, “Five minutes? More than three be one too many for Cian.”

Cian shoved him off the barstool.

Seamus had the reflexes of a cat, and the man didn’t spill a drop of his beer. “What? I was meaning to get into the gal’s—”

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