Cady stops walking and turns to face me. "Don't, Renner. That fucking ass-wipe broke the rules, not you. You just got caught in the crossfire. He's not worth the time or energy for you to even be thinking about him."
Sighing, I grab her arm so we can start walking again. "I know. I mean, deep down, I know. But it's so unfair how it all played out. I think I'm a loser magnet. What's wrong with me?"
"There nothing wrong with you, sweet girl. You've just had a run of bad luck, is all. Or maybe you're looking in the wrong places for the right kind of love."
Hmmmmm. That made me think.
My past relationships were always built on the theory that the more stable and responsible a man, the better partner he'd make for a long-term relationship. I'm not going to lie--I've always had that sweet dream of marrying a successful businessman, and living in the suburbs with a white picket fence, and three angelic children running around in the front yard with our perfectly groomed Golden Retriever named 'Beau'.
It's what I had envisioned when I met and started dating Cormac. He's a pilot with Delta and we met when I started on the Dublin route from JFK. He seemed to be the perfect candidate for my ideal relationship. He's educated, has a respectable, great career and makes good money. His hair is perfectly groomed and he is always neatly pressed. To my way of thinking, this practically equated to solid, relationship material.
But I was so wrong. So very, very wrong.
We finally make it to Cady's house, having ran the last two blocks when her mom called demanding to know why we were late and telling us that we were holding everyone up. We were both breathless by the time we crashed through the front door, giggling and holding on to each other so we weren't staggering too much.
"Come in to the dining room, girls. We're all in here," Aunt Shannon calls out.
Dropping our purses by the front door, we head that way, our arms still linked together. I'm looking at Cady as we walk in, as she is telling me about the time when Teagan was locked out of her apartment naked.
"It's about time you girls showed up. Look who we invited to have dinner with us!"
Both of us turn and my mouth falls open. Sitting at the dining room table is none other than Cillian. He still looks every bit the rock star with his lip rings gleaming, although he's actually wearing a pair of dress pants and shirt, I'm assuming out of respect to my Aunt and Uncle for their dinner invitation. He has a shit-eating grin on his face when our eyes make contact while he leans back in his chair, his arm casually draped over the chair to his right. I don't know if it's the wine, or if my senses are just assaulted by the perfectness of him sitting there, or maybe it's that diabolical grin he's shooting at me, but the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Why did you invite him?"
I hear Uncle Keefe make a coughing sound and Aunt Shannon reaches over and pops me on the back of the head. "Where are your manners, Renner Caldwell? Cillian is a welcome guest in our home. He's practically family."
Not in the least ashamed over my reaction to Cillian, I dutifully duck my head and mumble, "Sorry."
"That's a girl," Uncle Keefe says. "In fact, how about you sit over there by Cillian and play nice."
Cillian's grin gets even wider and he removes his arm from the chair so I can sit down. Having no choice, I take the seat offered and I can practically feel the triumph radiating off him.
As I scoot my chair in, he leans in to me to murmur so only I can hear, "You look sinful tonight, Renner. Father O'Grady would have me stapled to the confessional if he knew the direction my thoughts were takin' right now."
God help me, but his words cause my skin to hum and my head to swim. But I don't want him to know he affects me so I merely turn my head and glare at him. He holds my glare and doesn't flinch or look away. In fact, a leisurely smile slides onto his face before he turns to Uncle Keefe.
"I appreciate you letting us have our welcome home party at the pub last night, Keefe."
"It was my pleasure. You know you're welcome there any time. Have you given any thought to playing there this summer... for old time's sake?"
I tune out as they continue to talk and concentrate on eating my pot roast. I try to pay attention to something--anything--other than Cillian and his excruciatingly sexy presence sitting next to me. I make detailed work of cutting my roast up into perfectly sized bites. I quarter my potatoes and line them up in a circle. I place my carrots side by side and pretend they're an army getting ready to advance on the bread sitting on the edge of my plate. I'm trying for anything to take my mind off him, yet his nearness is still overwhelming.
It doesn't take long and it always happens when you get the Gannon's together, but an argument of epic proportion breaks out. And one thing I've learned that will cause them to fight like cats in heat is rugby. When Uncle Keefe, Aunt Shannon, and Cady are reaching a fever pitch over whether Connacht will beat Leinster, Cillian uses the opportunity to talk to me.
Leaning slightly over and turning his face to me, he says, "You didn't honestly think you could hide from me, did you?"
I push a carrot around my plate and consider my answer for just a second. When I turn to look at him, I have to steel myself against the blatant sensuality I know will be waiting in his eyes. "I had hoped I could hide, but apparently I can't. Would it make any difference if I told you that it was a huge turn off the way you're stalking me?"
His lips curl up high and his tongue flicks out over his two lips rings. "It wouldn't make a difference to me. Besides, I know you're lying to me and yourself. There's a part of you... maybe deep down... that's enjoying my attention. Besides, I never give up on going after what I want."
Gah, this guy is so arrogant and full of himself. And he's wrong. There is no part of me that enjoys his presence. I mean, he's gorgeous on a scale that even I can't measure, and sure, he has the hot, rock-star vibe going, but I am so not interested in that.
It's not my ideal.
Wiping my mouth with my napkin, I look at him with determination. "Seriously Cillian... why me? Why not go pester some other woman with your attention?"
Cillian leans in closer so he's whispering, clearly not wanting the others to hear. "First, I'm not pestering you. I'm trying to make it clear that I want to fuck you into oblivion. Second, there is no other woman that I'm interested in. Clear enough for you?"
Swallowing hard, I merely nod my head. "But I'm not interested."
Leaning back in his chair, Cillian just grins at me. "Oh, you're interested all right. You're just not being honest with yourself about it."
My face flushes red. "Is it possible for you to be any more arrogant?"
I'm hoping the question shames him, but he merely shrugs his shoulders. "Probably not."
I go back to pushing the carrots around on my plate. The Gannons are still going full tilt on their argument and completely ignoring Cillian and me.
It's not long before he cuts into my thoughts again. "Why aren't you interested in me? Have I done something to offend you or make you mad?"
Squaring my shoulders, I tell him, "No, Cillian. You've done nothing to make me mad or offend me. I'm just not interested in someone like you, so you can stop pursuing me. The answer is no and that won't change."
"Someone like me?"
"A musician. I like my boyfriends a little more professionally balanced."
"Ouch. That hurts, love. But who said anything about me being your boyfriend? I'm just after a long, hot shag with you."
Trying to maintain my calm, not because his words anger me, but--God help me--because the thought of no strings, walk-away-when-we're-done sex is suddenly a thrilling prospect. Shoring up my resolve, I say instead, "Sorry... just not that type of girl."
Cillian just snickers but then I hear him say softly, "You could be that type of girl, Renner. If you just let yourself go. And I guarantee you'd enjoy it."
CHAPTER 4
Cillian
I step into The Hibernian and do a quick look around. I don't see Renner but I know
she's working because Keefe casually mentioned it when I called him earlier today to check in.
It's been two days since I've seen her and I can't stand it anymore. I need to step up my game if I'm going to wear her down.
I'm not sure what this obsession is with Renner. Sure...she's beautiful with her red hair and pale skin...like fire and cream. But that's not it because let's face it... there are plenty of red-haired beauties in Ireland. Maybe it's the challenge she presents--particularly because she's trying her damnedest to show she's not interested. Or maybe it's simply unfinished business I feel I have with her. Even after five years, I remember how soft her lips were against mine. I remember how she was too shy to touch me, so she just grabbed a hold of my t-shirt and hung on. And I certainly remember how hard that kiss made me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Renner clearing off a table and make my way toward her. She doesn't see me, which is just fine for now. I slip into a booth and wait patiently for her to notice me.
After she returns from the kitchen and serves an older couple, her eyes make contact with mine and she actually grimaces.
Yup. I definitely need to step up my game. I flash her a smile that she does not return, but she does walk my way.
"What are you doing here, Cillian?"
"I'm just here as a paying customer. I'd like to order some dinner if it's all the same to you."
I just stare at her for a few moments, taking in the way she has her long hair pulled up in ponytail, displaying her slender neck. She's wearing a pair of dark jeans and a Hibernian t-shirt, along with a pair of running shoes that look like they've seen better days.
"Fine, what do you want?"
"You know what I want, Renner."
And there it is... the cherry red blush staining those cheeks. That's what I wanted to see.