Page 6 of Cocktails & Cauldrons

Her startling eyes danced with mirth as more color rushed to her cheeks. “So, not gay, despite what you told Aunt Odessa?”

“Oh, if you’ve ever a chance to speak with her again, you’re to drive home the point and that a worldly woman such as her would make my flute hit a false note, to be sure.” He grinned when she laughed. “But no, love. I’m not gay.”

“And it’s a bloody shame because I called dibs ages ago in case he ever decides to join my team.”

The curtain was jerked aside, and Reggie propped his hands on his slim hips.

“Were ya eavesdropping again, you scut?” Eoin demanded with a mock scowl.

“Yes. Yes, I was.” He sniffed and straightened the lapels of his shimmering-gold suit jacket. The bold material would make Elton John envious. “I had to protect your privacy from all those circling buzzards out there.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, and Eoin’s gaze followed where Reggie had indicated. The crowd had shifted closer, eager for juicy gossip. Such was the celebrity associated with his newly successful career.

With his back still to the sea of gawkers, Reggie adopted a campy pose and batted his lashes. “You should kiss me and cement your claim, young scamp.”

“Feck off,” Eoin growled good-naturedly.

One elegant shrug of his shoulder later, Reggie shifted his sights to Brenna. “I had a small window to turn him, and you ruined it, you drab little thing.”

“Reg!”

He waved a hand in dismissal of Eoin’s unspoken reprimand. “Come, girl. Uncle Reggie is going to transform you and teach you all the things you need to be fabulous.”

Eoin shifted to block Brenna. “Don’t you dare alter one hair on her head.”

“You’re mighty protective of her, aren’t you, scamp? It’s absolutely delicious the way you defend her.”

“Shut up, Reggie. Just shut the fuck up.” Eoin clasped Brenna’s hand but refused to look at her. He was afraid the mortification she’d be unable to hide would be the mirror of what he was currently experiencing with the entire gallery’s attention on them. Of course, he was better at hiding it. “Let’s go, Brenna.”

Her cherry-red mouth formed a surprised O. “But I thought you wanted to stay until the end of the show.”

“I’ve decided it’s time we head on before I give in to my desire to maim someone. And I need a pint.”

Reggie’s smug smile and knowing eyes sorely tested Eoin’s willpower to keep his fists to himself. “Cheers!”

Eoin flipped him off and tugged Brenna with him through the hastily parting crowd.

CHAPTER 3

Brenna studied her surroundings as Eoin waited on their drinks at the bar. He’d assured her this was as close as an Irish pub could get to any of the ones inÉire. She still found it difficult to believe he intended to fly her there.

Ireland.

She’d always dreamed of going.

Her gran had spent hours talking about growing up there as a child and sparked Brenna’s love of a place she’d never seen. Doreen Sullivan had been a pistol. She’d born Brenna’s mother out of wedlock, who did the same in turn. Neither cared one whit for what anyone thought. Gran’s spinster sister, Odessa, had plenty to say, though. Which was ironic, since Gran and Brenna’s mother had only loved once and Odessa nailed everything with a penis.

A mouthwatering muscled forearm with a rolled-up sleeve and an eclectic array of bracelets entered her sight line as Eoin set a wineglass in front of her. “What has you thinking so hard, lovely Brenna?”

“Ireland, and all the stories my grandmother told me.”

“She was born there?”

“Yes.” She sipped the drink and grimaced, but quickly masked her distaste.

“You don’t like the wine?”

His deep chuckle made her knees tremble, and Brenna pressed them together under the table.

“It’s fine,” she lied.

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