Page 8 of The Irish Rogue

Ella finished with one order and moved on to the next, grabbing the milk container to steam more milk. “Yep. I found the recipe for a great cocktail. You guys will be my guinea pigs.”

Kennedi cringed. “Nope! There’s no way you can convince me to try anything you concoct again.”

Ella laughed and filled a cup half full with steamed milk. “You know you love my experiments. And this one will be extra good.”

“Remember the last time you experimented on us? We ended up sleeping on Mandy’s floor because we were too drunk to drive home.”

Ella sighed, her hands pausing for a millisecond as she smiled dreamily. “Ah, good times!” Then she dropped the dreamy expression and ordered, “Be there!”

Kennedi rolled her eyes, then offered her credit card to the person running the register. Turning, her eyes landed on the man again. The moments with Ella had been merely a reprieve. Who was that guy, anyway? And why in the world did he have this strange effect on her? Kennedi didn’t like the flutters in her belly or the trembling of her knees. It was annoying!

Kennedi knew that she didn’t “do” annoying very well.

Then again, who did?

Probably him, she thought, then stepped to the side as someone bumped her. Kennedi suddenly realized that she was in the way of the other customers who were trying to exit the coffee shop.

She scooted to the right, giving other customers room to go around her. But she couldn’t force her feet to move her past the man. Sure, she could just walk out the doorway without stopping. However, the man had helped her last night. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, even to herself, but last night had been scary. Kennedi knew the only reason Brody hadn’t followed her home was because of this tall, scary, incredibly handsome man. She had no idea how he’d done that, but she appreciated his assistance.

So at a minimum, she owed him a thank you.

Taking a deep, slow breath, she cradled her magic brew, and walked up to his table.

“I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

The man blinked at her. “Ye do?” he asked, then leaned forward, pushing the chair on the other side of the table out with his foot. “Why?”

“You…uh…kept Brody from harassing me last night. More than once.” She twirled her coffee cup on the table thoughtfully, choosing her words with care. “He’s normally a jerk, but when he’s been drinking, he becomes more obnoxious than usual.”

“He’s in custody today,” the man offered.

That was surprising. “He is?”

“Aye, lass. He won’t be bothering you fer a while.”

Her head tilted slightly. “Your accent comes and goes. Why is that?”

He shrugged with a non-answer. “I guess it’s just a fickle thing.” His eyes twinkled as he leaned in. “Perhaps it’s a fake accent. Maybe I’m not Irish.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I believe you.”

“Why’s that?” he demanded. “I’m a stranger to ye.”

Her smile widened. “After serving drinks for the past several years, I have a pretty well-honed liar-radar. You’re the real deal.”

A half-smile danced across his handsome features. “What else do ye know about me?”

Against her best judgment, she sat down in the empty chair.

She narrowed her eyes and twisted the top off her coffee. After absorbing the delicious jolt of caffeine, she answered his question. “I suspect that you have a dark past. You’re running from something.”

His eyes hardened, but the smile remained. “I never run, lass.”

She shifted on the chair, getting more comfortable. “My name is Kennedi.”

“I know.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “And your name is…?”

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