Pints and potions, p.2
Pints & Potions, page 2
That was until a cold blast of water from his right side dampened his ardor.
“Bridget, you she-devil!” he swore.
“Stop mauling the customers and get back to strumming. We have a pub to entertain.”
“Oh, you can be sure we were entertained, mo ghrá!” A male voice called out from a table in the far back reaches of the pub.
“I’m not your love, Ruairí O’Connor. And you’d best be remembering your manners in my pub.”
“You’d be my everything if you give me a chance, Bridg,” Ruairí returned.
“Pfft.” She rolled her eyes. “Right. You say that to me and every other woman within a hundred-kilometre radius.” Bridget winked in Piper’s direction. “Don’t believe any of these wankers, girl. They delight in pulling your leg. My brother Cian is the worst of the lot. You’re the fifth woman he’s hit on this week.”
Piper turned disappointed eyes on him but didn’t look surprised.
Cian felt a tightening in his chest and scowled at his sister from where he stood behind Piper. “Now, don’t be spreading tales, Bridget. You’ll have my darlin’ Piper believing the worst of us.” He swept aside the hair from Piper’s neck and leaned in to whisper. “Ignore her. She’s out to kick a man in the bollocks on her best day. Will you stick around for my next set? I’ll dedicate a song to you.”
“It’s been a long day. Maybe next time,” she demurred, apology heavy in her voice.
Although it sounded as if she’d like nothing better than to hang out for another beer and to flirt with him, she also looked like she was on her last leg.
“Are you stayin’ local?”
She nodded. “For a few days.”
“Good. I’ll walk you back to your hotel.”
“No need, I’m only right next door at the B&B.”
“Humor me.”
The steely tone caused her to frown and most likely had her wondering where his charming Irish accent had gone. She was clever enough to realize he laid it on a little thicker for the tourists, and Cian surmised it was why she didn’t say anything.
“You can trust him to walk you to your room, Piper,” Bridget assured her as she drew another Guinness from the tap. “He knows if he disappears on me, there’ll be the devil to pay.” Addressing Cian, Bridget warned, “Five minutes. Any longer, and I’ll come for you myself.”
Seamus snorted and said, “Five minutes? More than three be one too many for Cian.”
Cian shoved him off the barstool.
Seamus had the reflexes of a cat, and the man didn’t spill a drop of his beer. “What? I was meaning to get into the gal’s—”
Cian clamped a hand over Seamus’s mouth. “I know what you were meaning. You’d do well to shut your pie hole, Seamus McCleary.” He released his drunk friend with a second none-too-gentle shove. “He’s cut off.”
“Ya got a mean streak as wide as—”
“Not another word, Seamus,” Cian growled.
“You’ve wasted two of your five minutes, Brother.”
“Come on, love. I don’t want you to be a witness to murder.”
Cian placed his hand on Piper’s lower back and guided her toward the door. A current of sorts passed between them, surprising him, and he sent her a sharp glance to see if she’d experienced the same.
She appeared unfazed.
A simple touch had never set him off before. Dry-mouthed, he held his own council and silently walked with her toward the building next door.
“You handled that well,” she said as he strolled beside her.
Thrown by her cool sarcasm, he stopped and stared. His laughter, when it started, was deep and boomed out across the night. The sound carried and seemed to echo forever. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed that hard.
Cian reached for her hand and placed a lingering kiss on her fingertips. “Come, let’s get you home.”
2
Piper woke with a song in her heart. She stretched and grinned.
Ireland!
Her welcome yesterday had been more than she could’ve hoped for.
Cian was delicious. With his shaggy, sandy-brown hair, dancing green eyes, and tall, muscular—but not overly so—build added to a keen intelligence and a devil-may-care attitude, he had checked off every single one of Piper’s heretofore unknown boxes.
He’d been the perfect gentleman when he walked her to her lodgings. He’d insisted on checking out the premises, which surprised and thrilled her. Last night, she’d figured it was another of his flirty games, but once he’d declared the all-clear, he had graced her with a light kiss on her cheek and disappeared.
Apparently chivalry wasn’t quite dead yet.
She’d practically danced all the way upstairs to her room, reliving their mini make-out session in the pub.
Damn, the man could kiss.
She’d forgotten where she was the minute his lips touched hers and had gotten carried away. Cian had too. She’d felt it in his touch and the budding erection pressing against the soft swell of her belly. If it hadn’t been for Bridget’s timely interruption, they’d have gone up in flames.
Piper toyed with the idea of stopping by today in the hopes of seeing him again. But first things first, she needed a shower and a cup of coffee—not necessarily in that order.
She stumbled into the bathroom and groaned at her reflection. Yesterday’s forgotten makeup made her resemble a demented raccoon. So as not to terrify the other occupants of the B&B should they run into her, she scrubbed her face clean, pulled her unruly hair into a topknot, and dragged a large cardigan sweater over her pajamas.
Halfway down the stairs the wonderful aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and perfectly cooked food drifted to her. For the second time that morning, she grinned. This trip was going to be incredible. And if she skipped down the last of the stairs in her eagerness to get to those mouth-watering smells, well, no one was around to bear witness.
She sailed around the corner and buried her nose directly into a burly, unyielding chest. Pain set her eyes to watering, and although Piper wanted to cuss up a storm, she muttered, “I’m sorry” instead.
“No need to apologize, darlin’. I understand your eagerness to see me again. I’m feelin’ the same way, myself. Anytime you want to sniff my chest, I won’t deny you, to be sure.”
The delicious sound of Cian’s amused voice jerked her head up.
O’Malley’s Black Cat Inn!
Of course! Either he was part owner, or he was related to the owners.
She’d been too tired to make the connection before.
Piper eyed him; irritated he looked so well rested and gorgeous this early while she was a complete mess. Maybe she should rethink shunning magic long enough to utilize a glamour spell.
A cup of coffee appeared before her. “Cut the girl a break, Cian. We don’t want her running for the closest airport,” Bridget scolded.
Piper took a huge sniff of the coffee and groaned her appreciation for Bridget’s thoughtfulness. “Besides, I’m in love with your sister.”
Cian, in the process of drinking his own morning brew, spit it out in a perfect imitation of her reaction to Seamus’s comment last night.
Bridget’s laughter triggered her own.
He scowled and caught the hand towel his sister threw in his direction. “You’re proving what I’ve long known to be true,” he muttered.
“Oh? And what’s that?” Piper asked as she followed the delectable smells the rest of the way into the kitchen.
“That all women are evil and out to break my poor wee heart,” he hollered after her retreating back.
She took a seat at the counter and, to hide her grin, she bit into the toast Bridget had placed in front of her. Piper loved their verbal judo. Cian challenged her in a way she’d never been before, and it was fun. Although she only just met the man, he had a warm, flirty quality about him that made her feel she’d known him a lifetime. His easy, uncomplicated manner attracted her on every level. Life was much easier with a drama-free man.
The thought brought her up short. She shouldn’t be thinking about long term with Cian. He lived an ocean away and, according to his sister, he had a wandering eye.
Speaking of his eyes, she couldn’t seem to look away and was drowning in those sparkling emerald depths.
“What do you have planned today, Piper?” Bridget’s voice had a slight edge, and it was enough to break the staring contest between Cian and Piper.
“Since this is my first trip to Ireland, I thought I’d hit all the touristy places.” Piper started devouring the scrumptious meal. “Do you have any suggestions? Any must-sees?”
Cian leaned around her and snatched a piece of toast from her plate. “I happen to be a brilliant tour guide.”
“You have work to do today, you feckin’ skiver. Don’t even dream of leaving it all on my shoulders.” His sister shot him a dark look.
“Bridg, we can’t neglect our guest now, can we?”
Piper’s lips twitched as she observed Bridget’s irate reaction. It seemed her hostess’s temperament was as fiery as her red hair. If looks could kill, her brother would be dead and buried in the family cemetery.
“I’m not going to be your excuse to get out of work, Cian.” Piper finished off the last of her breakfast and put her empty plate by the sink.
“But you have to see the real Ireland, love. You won’t find that in some tourist’s book.” Cian put an arm around her and steered her toward the stairs. “Now go get dressed, and I’ll soothe my sister’s ruffled feathers.”
A glance back showed Bridget wasn’t as put out as she’d first appeared.
Cian’s wide shoulders blocked Piper’s view of the kitchen as he closed the distance between them. With his lips pressed to the shell of her ear, he said, “Or if you’d rather see something native, you don’t need to get dressed. I can join you in your room, and we can have a grand time here, to be sure.”
“Keep it in your pants, player. I’ll be down in ten minutes.”
“You aren’t doing anything to make me believe you aren’t a cruel woman, Piper me love.”
“And you aren’t doing anything to make me believe you aren’t a horny man out to score, Cian me love,” she mocked and headed upstairs.
“I never said I wasn’t a horny man,” he called up after her.
* * *
“Lay off before you scare her, you eejit,” Bridget scolded when Piper was out of earshot.
“Do you really need my help today?” Cian asked over his shoulder, all kidding aside.
“No, I’m just having powerful fun watching you get shot down.” She smiled and patted his cheek. “Make sure you bring some johnnies with you. The woman doesn’t need to end up with a babe for your carelessness.”
Oddly enough, the idea of impregnating the lovely Piper didn’t upset him. Instead, the image of her cradling a dark-haired babe to her breast spread warmth through his chest. With any other woman, he’d already be breaking out in a fine sweat. Perhaps he should utilize Bridget’s excuse and leave Piper to her own devices. He’d known the woman less than twelve hours, for St. Peter’s sake! Why was he picturing her with his child?
“You okay?”
He started from where he’d been staring at the empty staircase. “Yeah. Just woolgathering.”
“I like her.” Bridget nodded to the stairs. “She doesn’t put on airs. Not like the last one.”
He dismissed her comment with a shrug and helped finish cleaning the kitchen. “If you need a night off, I can call in Ruairí to help me at the pub tonight.”
“It’s shameful you’d believe for one moment that I would allow him to run my business. He’s the enemy, Cian, and don’t you forget it.”
“Oh, give over, Bridg. That bloody war has been done for decades. You’re the only one still holding on to it.”
“Someone has to remember why the O’Malleys lost their power, brother. You and the others may be fine without, but I’m not.”
“All I’m saying—”
“I know what you’re saying. I just don’t happen to agree with you. An O’Connor will never be welcome behind my counter or within my home. It’s bad enough I have to serve him.”
“Business is business. We can’t afford to be picky. Our finances are nearly non-existent, Bridg,” Cian said grimly.
She grimaced. “We used the last batch of Granny O’Malley’s potion when we made the new brew. We’re likely to lose everything when this last store of beer is gone.”
“We’ll have to become like normal folk, but we’ll make it work.”
“Normal,” she sneered. “We’re meant to be great witches who rule our island, you bloody eejit.”
Cian cast a nervous glance toward the stairs. “Shhh. Do you want to let the whole of America know what we are? ‘Cause that’s what’ll happen if our guests overhear you.”
“She’s our only boarder until Wednesday, and if you haven’t figured out by now that she’s a witch, you’ve not the sense the Goddess graced a mule.” She shoved by him and grabbed a light jacket from the hook. “Find Carrick and tell him to get his lazy arse over to the pub. You’ll have to trade shifts for the day.”
“I knew last night Piper was a witch. For the record, you get bossier with every year that passes.”
“Shut your mouth or I’ll serve over bossy.”
He ignored her threat. Not that Bridget wouldn’t carry through, but she had a soft spot for Cian and he wasn’t opposed to exploiting it now and again. “Carrick might have a problem. He won’t want to leave Aedan alone with a sitter tonight.”
His sister stopped on her way to the door. “What’s wrong with Aedan?”
“He’s having the terrors during the day now.”
Cian’s young nephew had been experiencing paralyzing night terrors in the eight months since he’d witnessed his mother’s death. He swore evil monsters were trying to steal his soul. No amount of therapy had helped him conquer his fear that someone was after him or that his father might die in a fiery car crash like his mother had. More recently, the boy had started seeing his demons during the daylight hours.
“Carrick said just yesterday Aedan ran inside, terrified out of his wee mind. Said it took him a good hour to get the boy to calm.”
Bridget’s worried gaze met his. “Then Carrick needs to stay home and take care of his own. I suppose you’ll have to call Ruairí and have him cover. I’ll have no choice but to put up with him for a day.”
Color crept into her cheeks and she avoided his questioning look. For sure, the relationship between Bridget and Ruairí was volatile, but Cian was at a loss as to why. His sister avoided being alone with their neighbor for reasons other than what she pretended, but she refused to divulge the real truth. Cian knew her personal grievance with Ruairí went back at least fifteen years or more.
“Ma might come if I call her,” he said softly.
“I want her less than I want an O’Connor in my place.”
“When are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Never, because it’s ancient history on all accounts. Our mother is an evil person, Cian. You know this. Why would you ever think of bringing her back here?”
“She’s not, Bridg. She was good to us once.”
“Right. When Da was alive. After he disappeared, she became a miserable feckin’ bitch. No thanks, she can stay in whatever hole she crawled into.” Bridget shot a quick glance toward the stairs before turning her attention on him. She had a wary look. “If you insist on playing tour-guide today, be careful. You still have powerful enemies wandering about.”
3
Piper was excited in a way she hadn’t been in a long while. If she stopped long enough to think about it, she experienced a pang of guilt. Maybe if she’d been more attentive to previous boyfriends and less involved with her job or hobbies, she wouldn’t still be alone at this point of her life. And there was still the problem of her inability to choose a good guy. It’s like she was a beacon to all the lazy-good-for-nothing cheaters on the planet.
Of course, none of them had looked like Cian or possessed a smidgeon of his charm. She refused to think she was setting herself up for heartache. Accepting him as her tour guide was as far as this flirtation went.
Or so she kept telling herself as she flew down the stairs, was ushered out to his car, and fought back her answering grin when he flashed his pearly whites her way.
“Where to?” he asked, as if he were at her disposal and would cater to her every whim.
It was a heady sensation, and she almost forgot herself as she stared at his brain-cell-scattering face. He had the kind of handsomeness that was seen on movie stars and that made women go a little nuts in their desire to be with them. More than good looking, he was compelling, and his dazzling grin was hypnotic.
After giving herself a mental smack, Piper dug inside her backpack and pulled out a notebook. “I made a list of places I should see while I’m here.”
Cian glanced down at the paper and shook his head. “Of course, you did. Now put that back in your bag and tell me which way your heart tells you to go.”
Her gaze locked with his, and she wanted to get lost in those emerald depths for all eternity. She almost said her heart was pointing to him, but she didn’t want to sound like an idiot or be a love-at-first-sight statistic like the rest of the Thornes. There was such a thing as free will and she damned well intended to use it.
“Abandoned mansions are a thing of mine,” she finally confessed.
When Cian started the car and shot her a quizzical look, Piper elaborated. “I enjoy the history. I like to wander through the ruins and guess what the old place might’ve contained by way of furniture, people, and dramatic circumstances.”
The slight smile on his face spoke of understanding. Piper was drawn to that half-smile. Maybe even more so than to his wide, engaging grin. Because although she wanted to be the recipient of that grin, she also liked the realness when he dropped his practiced charm.
A short drive later, they pulled off the road onto a dirt drive. Cian put the vehicle in park, climbed out, and walked around to Piper’s side to assist her. Nerves ate at her belly when she got her first good look around her.
