Page 35 of Taming Irish

“We’re just friends,” Ioffer.

“A friend, ye say.” Tommy gives a disbelieving look between us, then says in a loud whisper that’s meant for my ears. “Myh wife and I started out asfriends.”

Shane rubs the back of his neck. “How isMary?”

“She misses seeingye.”

“Tell her I’ll come by later thisweek.”

“She’d like that. Ye always were her favorite.” Tommy motions us to take a seat at the bar, then walks around towards the bronzed spouts and starts pouring dark, foamy liquid into two largeglasses.

I don’t understand the next words that come out of the man’s mouth, because I’m pretty sure he’s speaking in Gaelic. Shane looks uncomfortable with whatever is said, replying in the same throaty language and making Tommy laugh and shake his head. Then, he looks at me andwinks.

Tommy places the dark beer in front of me, and says, “Ye have yer hands full with that one,” then walks away, chuckling tohimself.

“What did he say?” I ask, once the man isgone.

I swear Shane blushes, and when he responds by changing the subject, I’m pretty sure I don’t want toknow.

“Tommy and my dad were good friends. It’s right here that Wild Irish performed live for the first time. Jeezus, we’d barely hit puberty at the time. Scared all the vermin from the place. But we thought we were the kings of the world.” He gives a low, throaty laugh, his eyes misty with memory. “We still come back and play here onoccasion.”

I glance around, noting the small makeshift stage on one side of the room. “I’m sure he appreciatesit.”

“I miss it.” His eyes gloss over for a moment, and there’s a hint of vulnerability in them. He takes a long sip of his beer. “Being on stage. It’s a rush, yeknow?”

“I’ve always been terrified of being in front of largecrowds.”

The vulnerability is gone when he glances back at me, replaced by the same impish look that he’d had after I’d kissed him. “But there has to be something that sets yer blood rushing. That stirs that place inside ye, making ye feelalive.”

Yeah,him.

I swallow past the lump in my throat and push away the thought. “I guess seeing my designs come tolife.”

He studies me for a moment and takes another deep sip of his beer. “Then that’s what ye should bedoing.”

I shrug, not telling him that I haven’t been able to design anything since my divorce - way before then, actually. It’s like all my creative juices have been squeezed from me. Even when I try to pick up a pencil and sketchbook, I end up staring at the blank page, unable to get a clear vision of the images in mymind.

Tommy returns with a basket and sets it on the counter, then says something else in Gaelic, making Shanesmirk.

“It was nice to meet ye, Makena. I hope to see ye again soon.” Tommy lifts his hand like he’s tilting his non-existent hat at me, then scurries into the back roomagain.

Shane stands and grabs the basket. “Yeready?”

“Ready forwhat?”

“Fun.” Hewinks.

“What kind of fun?” I lift my still full beer to mylips.

Shane places a hand on the bar and leans close, his voice tickling the shell of my ear. “The kind that’ll have ye wet,love.”

I suck in a breath, choking as beer and foam goes down the wrong pipe, making me coughuncontrollably.

“I…” Try to say something through the coughing fit. “You…”

“I’ve got something reallybigto show ye.” Shane just grins at me, all cocky and sure of himself. I can tell he’s teasing me, but he has my head spinning with the possibilities. “And I have no doubt ye’ll enjoyit.”

“You’re terrible,” I manage tosay.

---