Page 18 of Cocktails & Cauldrons

He should’ve offered her more options. “If you don’t want to work with me, Brenna, you don’t have to. I’ll help you find other employment.”

With a sharp look, she asked, “You don’t want me now?”

His brows shot up, and a laugh escaped him. “Jaysus, love. You ask loaded questions, to be sure. How do you want me to answer?”

“With the truth.”

“The truth is, aye, I want you. In my bed. As my manager. As afriend. But I’m not into long-term relationships, and I suspect you are.” He stole her mug and took a sip of her tea before handing it back. “What about you? What does Brenna Sullivan want?”

For the longest time, she remained quiet, staring down at the place where his lips had touched the rim of her mug. Finally, she sighed heavily. “I don’t know what I want. Or if I do, it’s probably not something I can have.”

“And who’s to say ya can’t have what it is you want?” If it was within his power, he’d help her achieve it.

Her troubled eyes sought and held his, and she surprised him when she said, “Because I want you, too, Eoin. In my bed. As a boss. As a friend.”

Jaysus!She was bolder than he’d given her credit for. His heart began to thud. “But?”

“But I don’t live in your world. I don’t understand the rules.” She dropped her gaze and took a sip of her drink, swallowing hard. “I’m essentially a novice, and I’d probably screw things up. I don’t know how to do casual, which is what you prefer.”

“Sure, and nothing need be decided tonight.” And it was a good thing, because she’d struck a nerve when she said he preferred casual. It didn’t matter that, a minute before, he was admitting to that very thing, and in the past, he’d repeatedly told himself he didn’t want entanglements. The fact she’d actually considered that type of arrangement with him was disturbing. Brenna deserved only the best in life, not to be used for sex and forgotten about a month later.

But after getting lost in her direct stare, he wondered if he could forget her. Her eyes and voice had haunted his dreams for four years, and he’d never acted on the urge to seduce her. He drew the line at innocents.

But was he so shallow, then? Is that howeveryonesaw him, as a player? True, he shunned real relationships to pursue his art, but when had his paintings come to mean more than people? And why did it matter if Brenna saw his selfishness when it hadn’t been seen by anyone else in the past?

Dubheasa had tried to get him to go out with her and her friends a time or two, but he’d always had a project to complete first. And after he was finished, he wanted or needed a good fuck. But making time with Dubheasa’s closest friends was a great way to rile his sister. That was all he needed, to break one of her girlfriend’s hearts. Dubheasa would have his bollocks in a sling.

Shoving aside all the tumultuous thoughts, he stood. “Are ya hungry? I make a mean scone to go with your tea.”

“You can make scones?”

He chuckled at her incredulous tone. “You don’t believe men can bake?”

“Oh, Ido, but I wouldn’t expect it fromyou. I’m surprised you can see your way to anything but your studio.”

“Ouch! That hurt, love. It truly did.”

When she laughed, he barely resisted the urge to kiss her sassy mouth. “Just you watch me, Brenna Sullivan. I’ll make ya the best fecking scones you ever had. You’ll be wantin’ to marry me for my cookin’ alone.” He did an internal eye-roll and mentally slapped himself the second the words left his mouth. If he didn’t slow the feck down, he’d have her believing in happily-ever-after and rugrats.

Brenna adoredthis side of Eoin. A side she’d not seen prior to this moment. Playful, carefree, with no worries about pleasing the art crowd or navigating demanding patrons.

Needing a distraction so the heart on her sleeve wasn’t so obvious, she nodded to the small suitcase by the door. “What’s that?”

He glanced over his shoulder as if he’d forgotten what he brought inside. “Ah, Reggie dropped it by a short while ago. It’swhat he gathered of yours from Odessa. There’s a locket inside from your gran.”

Sadness filled her heart, and depression clouded her mind. Her entire existence fit in a small carry-on bag. She was a minimalist because she’d had to be. Aunt Odessa didn’t hold with sentimental, so Brenna was surprised her aunt had included the locket. Whenever Brenna had wanted to speak of Gran or the past, Odessa would shut the conversation down, snapping at her to leave the dead buried. And because her aunt’s gaze was darting about as if she were haunted by memories, Brenna had let the matter rest.

“You all right there, love?”

She glanced up to find Eoin watching her with a small frown. She should’ve known he’d tune in to her distress. The man was too observant by far, but perhaps that came with being an artist. He studied everything and everyone with a perceptive eye.

With a quick, false smile, she nodded.

He wiped the flour off his hands and turned more fully to face her. “Sure, and if you don’t want to be talkin’ to me, Brenna, I’ll understand why, but I’ve got wide enough shoulders to help handle any burdens you’re carrying.”

Finding it hard to put into words what she was feeling, she shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t want to discuss it, but I guess I don’t know how. I’ve been my own counsel for as long as I can remember, with no one to talk to.”

“You don’t have to be an island, love. You have people who care now, yeah?”

---