Page 3 of Irish Fire and Forbidden Love
“Ah, you don’t need them. You’ve got me,” Eliza said.
Yeah, but for how long?is what I wanted to ask. Because once I was forced out, I’d have to leave Ireland. Probably would end up right back with my family like no time had passed. Like none of my life here had made any difference.
“My family isn’t particularly keen on traveling,” I said. “Especially not to Galway.”
“But this is a beautiful place. I wished I lived here full time,” he said.
I shrugged. “That’s just how they are.”
He laughed. “Your family sounds riveting. And now they’re making you do a fundraiser?”
“Not making. They just want me to lay down while they sell. My dad’s got some financial troubles.”
He nodded, then took a drink. “That happened to my brother and me once when we were just out of high school. Parents had some financial trouble, so they needed all the money they’d saved for our college tuition. Of course, this happened right after we got accepted into our universities,” he said. “Neither of us wanted loans either. Not after seeing all the debt our uncle had.”
“What happened?”
“We started working. And we were successful. Successful enough to pay our loans, plus more.”
“Now here you are, traveling the world,” I said. “If I even had half that much success, then I’d probably be okay.”
“I’m sure you will be,” he said, then he held out his hand for me to take. It was warm and soft, and I had the strangest desire to pull him toward me and might have if his words hadn’t brought me back to normalcy. “My name’s Rory.”
“Maeve. Pleasure.”
His hand was like a fire, igniting my very core. I held onto him just a little too long, only realizing what I was doing when Eliza spoke up.
“So, you gonna share your wisdom or are you just gonna sit there and make us guess?”
He tapped his fingers on the bar, thoughtful. “Well, I was a plumber back in school. That’s how I paid my tuition, but I don’t think that’ll really work for you.” He cocked his head to the side, studying me like he was actually considering the possibility. “No, I like your idea for the fundraiser. You’ve got a solid crowd, and if people knew this place might close, they’d give. You could push it to the papers, maybe get a radio host to record the open mic night.”
“That’s an idea,” Eliza said.
I frowned. “We tried that last time. Didn’t work.”
He shrugged. “I might know a few people.”
I arched a brow. “You can get the word out? You have some big Irish connections?” I leaned in, my elbow grazing his arm. He was warm, solid.
“Well, I don’t know. I might know a person or two.”
I doubted that, but I liked that he wanted to help. I straightened and took a sip of my drink. The alcohol hadn’t hit me yet, but sitting next to him, my head spun a little anyway.
A loud groan echoed through the ceiling.
Rory’s head snapped up. “That’s your pipes?”
I barely even registered the sound anymore. “Oh. Yeah. They do that.”
“That’s not good,” he muttered. His gaze flicked toward the hallway. “What’s the plumbing situation here?”
I waved him off. “It’s fine. I mean, nothing’s actively flooding.”
He let out a low chuckle. “That’s a pretty low bar.”
Then, with a smirk, “Oh, you think I’m helpful now? Wait ‘til I get a load of your pipes.”
I choked on my drink. Eliza outright cackled.
