Page 8 of The Seer

The instant when their gazes collided, he forgot the song lyrics. Fortunately, they were mid-chorus, and the guys picked up the slack. And when the set was over, he didn’t care that his bandmates had a go at him. He was obsessed with finding the girl he’d lost his heart to.

“Did ya see her, then?” he asked Donal, his bassist.

“Who?”

“Thecailíndown front with the large eyes and wild hair.”

Donal laughed and slapped him on the back. “Sure, and they all have large eyes from where we’re standin’, man.” With a dismissive shake of his head, he leaned halfway over the bar and ordered a pint from the server, flirting with the woman beside him all the while.

“He’s right,” someone said behind him.

A sense of rightness washed over him. His ears instinctively knew the sound ofhervoice. He turned, and the crowd around them faded like evening mist chased by the morning light, leaving only her.

“Sure, and what’s he right about, then?” he asked with a face-splitting grin.

“There were a ton of women with large, admiring eyes staring up at you,” his dream girl said, raising her voice to be heard over the pub noise. “And a few otherlargeassets, as well.”

“I’m only interested in one of those women,” he assured her.

“Oh? Should I leave so you can find her?”

He leaned forward, speaking right beside her ear. “If you do, I’ll be after chasin’ ya and bringin’ ya back.”

Her smile, brighter than the sun sparkling on lake water and twenty times as warm, rewarded him.

“You’re pretty smooth,” she said. “Must come with the territory.”

He considered her comment as he sipped his drink. One would assume, as the lead singer in a popular rock band, he’d be a lady’s man. Yes, he had the looks to back up any play he cared to make, but random hook-ups had never appealed to him. How did he tell her that inside, he was a jumbled mess of insecurity?

All because of her.

“I’m not, though.” He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “I’m what you Yanks would call a ‘hot mess.’”

Her eyes flared wide as she grinned up at him. “Consider me intrigued.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Fintan lifted a hand, stopping just shy of touching her flawless skin. “May I?”

She nodded after a moment’s pause, and he stroked her silky smooth cheek, tracing her jawline, then cupped her neck to draw her close.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Taryn. Taryn Stephens.” Her voice had a sexy breathiness that he fucking adored.

“Well, it’s nice to meet ya, Taryn-Taryn Stephens. I’m Fintan Sullivan.”

Her laugh bordered on a giggle, and though he despised giggling girls in general, coming from her, the joyful sound wasn’t annoying.

“You identified yourself at the beginning of your set,” she said.

He shrugged, having forgotten anything that came before spotting her in the crowd. “And now the introductions are out of the way, can I snog ya, then?”

“Snog?”

“Kiss. I’ve a powerful need to kiss ya, love.”

Again, she hesitated before nodding, giving him a shy smile in the process.

That bashful gesture created a burst of happiness in his chest, yet his stomach tightened. A knowing washed through him, alerting him that this meeting was big and its importance would carry through the rest of his life. But the impulse to press his mouth to hers, to taste her contagious merriment, was greater than all his wayward feelings combined, and since he had her permission, he wasted no time leaning in.

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