Page 5 of Trouble Walked In

“You're giving me a job and a place to stay. It's the least I can do, Ronan,” she said, turning to face him, her voice filled with gratitude.

“You could always run a load of my laundry then, if you find yourself with the desire to somehow express your gratitude.”

“Figure the odds, Ronan. I'm not washing your dirty underwear.”

“No worries, cupcake. I don't wear 'em,” he informed her with a wink, that self-satisfied smirk back in place.

Moira made a sound of disgust and turned back to the stove. What a pig!

The remainder of the meal was spent in awkward silence. At least he was done baiting her for the moment, it seemed. When he'd finished breakfast, he said, “Thank you. That was good.”

“You're welcome. Just leave the dishes. I'll get them after I shower,” she said as she headed back toward the bedroom. She could feel his eyes practically burning a hole in her back.

His voice rang out, “Anytime you wanna finish what you started this morning in bed, you be sure to let me know, sugar!”

> Moira flushed again. Asshole. “As if it wasn't embarrassing enough without you bringing it up. I was half asleep, dammit. Trust me. Won't happen again,” Moira said, not even bothering to turn around and face him.

“Offer still stands and, for what it's worth, I truly hope it does,” he said.

Moira closed the bathroom door with a loud thud in response to his words. Her eyes narrowed when she heard him laugh. He was such an asshole. Which only made it worse because part of her really wanted to take him up on his offer.

After breakfast, Ronan made himself scarce after humbly requesting that she didn't rob him blind. Moira did the only thing that any other red-blooded woman would have done once she was in a man's apartment all alone. She cleaned it.

He wasn't exactly messy, but there was a layer of dust on just about everything. The kitchen had certainly seen better times. Despite his teasing, she ended up throwing in a couple loads of wash, too. It turned out that he hadn't been kidding. There wasn't a pair of boxers, briefs, or any other style of underwear in the piles.

By the time he got back, it was almost time to open the bar. He walked through the door, set the groceries on the counter, and then took in the apartment. As he unloaded one of the bags into the freezer, he said, “You really didn't have to clean in here, but thank you.”

Moira snorted. “Um. I have to use that shower too. I did have to clean!”

“Well, thanks, I think.” He listened for a minute and must've heard the hum of the dryer because he asked, “Did you seriously do my laundry, Moira? I was completely joking. You don't have to—”

“I didn't wanna sit here just being a mooch,” she complained. “Your place needed cleaning. I wasn't doing anything, so I did it.”

“Again, not required, but appreciated. C'mon. The bar opens in an hour. I want to show you how to work the register and all that,” he said.

****

Within the first four hours of her shift at Kelly's, she'd been groped, hit on, or insulted by almost every patron in the bar. She'd managed to keep her cool for the most part, but she couldn't imagine doing this long-term. She had a newfound respect for waitresses everywhere. Especially bars, though. Customers could really be brutal.

The afternoon crowd had been surprisingly heavy. Who knew there were this many drunks in Lorelei? But by nine, the bar was absolutely packed. There were multiple games up on the big screens and both pool tables were in use. She was both taking orders and filling them since Ronan was swamped behind the bar. When he saw her pulling beers from the tap, he gave her a grateful smile.

Her feet were ready to fall off, but she'd made some pretty decent tips so far. Maybe a week or two of this and she'd be able to get a place of her own. She set the pitcher of beer down, along with the new icy mugs, and gave the group of guys at the table a grin. Just as she was reaching for the empty glasses, she felt arms wrap around her waist like a steel band.

She let out a screech and tried to break free, struggling against the person behind her. She had no idea who this drunk asshole was that was manhandling her, but she wasn't happy about it.

“Fucking let me go,” she ordered, trying to wrench herself free. “Let. Me. Go!”

“Aww. C'mon. You been eyeing me all night. When you get off work, baby doll?”

“Fuck off!” she yelled, once again trying to pry his arms from around her waist. She squirmed and fought until she caught the eyes of a very pissed off Ronan.

He tossed down his towel and strode out from behind the bar. Towering over both of them, he ordered, “Fucking let her go, Mikey. Now. She's not interested.”

The man, Mikey, released her and whined, “I was just kidding around, Ronan.”

“Not interested,” she repeated, scurrying off of his lap. She stood next to Ronan, admittedly cowering behind him.

He looked down at her and murmured, “You okay, cupcake?”

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