Page 10 of Illicit Heir

I glance over her head at an open door. All I can see are a set of stairs leading into darkness. I ask, "What's up there?"

"A flat."

"Whose?"

"Lauren's," Jessica answers, which only infuriates Lauren more.

I put my arm around Jessica, tugging her into me, ordering, "Easy, Lauren. Jessica's just appeasing me when I'm asking questions. No need to get upset with her. She's just doing her job."

Lauren tilts her head. "Her job isn't to open her mouth constantly when she shouldn't, now is it, Jessica?"

She smirks. "No, dear cousin, it's not."

I turn my most charming smile onto Jessica, stating, "Ah, cousins. You're related. So, you're stuck with her regardless, huh?"

Jessica giggles and puts her hand over her mouth, nodding.

"Stuck with me? If that's how you see it, then ya can find another job," Lauren fires at Jessica.

"Easy," I say.

Lauren crosses her arms.

Jessica giggles again, confessing, "She gets like this. She's actually a really cool person most of the time."

Lauren gives her another exasperated look.

I decide that Jessica is my new favorite person, so I pull out a chair and motion for her to sit. Then I do the same for Lauren with the chair across from Jessica but next to me. We sit, and once everyone's at the table, I slide a shot over to Jessica, then hold mine out. "Cheers, lass. It's nice to be greeted with a friendly face when you're from out of town."

Jessica's cheeks flush crimson, and I can tell she's got a little crush starting to form. I note to work that to my advantage.

"Thanks," she shyly peeps and clinks her shot glass to mine.

We down our whiskey, and I refocus on Lauren just in time to see a hint of jealousy flicker over her expression. It only excites me further.

I tug her chair closer to me and put my arm around her.

She yelps, "What are ya doing?"

I hand her a shot. "I saved this one for ya."

"Don't do me any favors," she spouts.

I softly chuckle, clink her glass, then wait to down mine until she tosses hers back. She swallows and winces.

I take mine and ask, "Ya really don't drink a lot, do ya?"

"No. Not that it's your business," she claims.

I chuckle. "I can tell, lass."

"So? Is it bad that I don't drink? That I don't want to be an alcoholic like most people who frequent this pub?"

"No, it's not bad," I answer, unable to stop my grin from forming.

She tilts her head and her eyes shoot me another round of daggers. "Then why do ya have a look on your face that I want to slap off?"

I lean closer. "Are ya always so defensive?"

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