Pints and potions, p.8
Pints & Potions, page 8
Liz would’ve called her a fool for not having hot and sweaty, headboard-banging sex with him, but Piper knew her heart was at stake. She already liked Cian too much and was physically more attracted to him than to all her previous lovers combined. It didn’t bode well for her future-husband search, not if she compared all men to the one across from her.
Idly, she let her attention wander over the building crowd. Her gaze swept the bar, stopping short on Seamus. The man watched her from the bar mirror with something close to dislike. Why? She’d only met him last night, and he seemed friendly enough at the time.
Leaning forward and lowering her voice for Cian’s hearing alone, she asked, “Did you tell anyone who I really am?”
He frowned and shook his head. “No. I know the way of it for your family. I’d not put you in danger, darlin’.”
“Thank you.”
Cian gave her a brisk nod and scanned the pub with the practiced eye of the secret agent he used to be. “What has your nerves dancing a jig, Piper?”
“Nothing. I’m probably paranoid. My cousin Liz and her husband cautioned me before I flew to Ireland. I suppose I’m jumpy for no real reason.”
His sharp-eyed stare settled on her. “No. There’s always a reason, and I suspect you have good instincts.”
She scoffed lightly. “There you would be wrong. Take, for example, the worst of the worst man here. Within five minutes, I’d unknowingly have a date with him.”
“What does it say that you and I had an excursion today?” he teased.
“That I had to find the most emotionally stunted man here in town?”
He sobered, and she instantly regretted her snarky comeback.
“I’m sorry, Cian. You didn’t deserve that.” She rested a hand atop his. “Your reasons are your own, and I’ve no right to be dickish about them.”
With a twist of his wrist, he turned his palm face up and wove their fingers together. “I’ve seen too much, love. I’d not want to break your heart. You’re right, I am emotionally stunted and you deserve a man to be whole.” His voice was gruff and his eyes regretful.
What he didn’t know was that he was already breaking her heart. Was she being stubborn by not grasping the bull by the horns? By not spending a few nights basking in the warmth of his beautiful light?
Piper blinked. Then blinked long and slow a second time.
Cian’s light!
It burned brighter than it had when she arrived. It had to mean his powers were trying to manifest, right?
“Cian, have you ever tried using magic?”
“How did you make the jump from finding the right man to my lack of abilities, darlin’?”
She laughed in the face of his confusion. “Sorry. My brain jumps track now and again. I…” She shrugged, unsure how to explain. “It’s just that since I’ve met you, it seems your magical glow is getting brighter. I wondered if maybe it meant something or if your connection to magic isn’t as lacking as you believe.”
“Brighter?”
He seemed confused, and she wondered if he’d ever noticed witches had a brighter aura than mortals.
“The aura of a magical being can be blinding, depending on the strength of their power. When I met you, your light immediately attracted me, though it appeared muted.” Positive she was making a muddle of it, she crinkled her nose and said, “I’m terrible at explaining these things.”
“You’re doing grand, love,” he said, absently toying with her fingers. “But you believe my ‘light’ is growing stronger?”
“Yes.”
“Will you stick around another day? To discuss magic?”
Because he seemed sincere and his request wasn’t heavy with innuendo, she agreed.
“I’ve got a pub to entertain.” He rose to his feet and gave her hand a light squeeze. “Don’t give these arseholes the time of day or they’ll be falling on you like a starving man on a haunch o’ beef. If anyone gets to fall on you, it’s me.”
She laughed and shook her head. The man was an inveterate flirt. “Does Ruairí need a hand behind the bar while you’re on stage? I don’t know anything about pouring a proper Guinness, but I can serve what’s on tap, bottled beers, and mixed drinks.”
His brows shot up in his surprise.
With a grin, she confessed, “I bartended through college.”
“Stop it right now, Piper! You’re dangerously close to making me go back on my no-involvement rule.”
They shared a grin, and he finally nodded. “I can’t see as how Bridget would object to your help any more than she objected to her old nemesis, Ruairí, and we could use a hand by the looks of it.”
“Anything I should know about tabs or accepting cash?”
“We only run a tab for the night. Everyone pays before they leave.” He placed a hand on her lower back and guided her around the end of the bar. “Ruairí can tell you who goes to what bill, and I can spare a few minutes to show you how to pour a proper pint of gat.”
11
Later, when Piper dropped into bed, it was with a smile on her face. Throughout the rest of the night, she’d helped out at the hopping pub. Who knew this tiny village was such a hotbed of fun? Tonight seemed to have an over-abundance of women, and she suspected word got around that the two hottest men in town were manning the bar, with one of them stopping to play lively tunes on occasion.
More than once Piper glanced up to find Cian’s admiring gaze focused on her, and she tamped down the urge to preen. With each steamy look he sent her way, she found it difficult to remember her stand on brief flings. It seemed as if every love song he sang was meant for her ears alone, and she tried to remember the man was a practiced seducer of women.
A light tapping brought her head up. She couldn’t tell if it was her door or another, and she paused to listen. Again, the tapping sounded, a little louder than the first time. Yep, her door. Curious if her hunch about her visitor was correct, she padded over and turned the knob.
Cian looked fatigued, but still as breathtakingly attractive as always.
“I took the chance you’d still be awake,” he said in a low voice. “I didn’t get to properly thank you for helping out tonight.”
“It was fun,” she replied, and found she honestly meant it. She’d chatted with the locals in a friendly, mindless way that was entertaining and carefree as she slung drinks and accepted payment.
“I’d like to repay you for your kindness.”
“There’s no need. I didn’t offer for any reason other than to be helpful, Cian.”
“I know, and it’s greatly appreciated, to be sure. But I still owe you a debt of gratitude.” His tired eyes scanned her face, as if to memorize it, before settling on her lips. “I want nothing more than to kiss you right now, darlin’.”
And neither did she. He’d been fueling her fire all night long. Stepping back, heart pounding so hard it was straining the fabric of her shirt, she allowed him access to her room.
He stopped just over the threshold and cupped a hand around her neck even as he stopped her from closing the door with his foot. “If you close that door, it’ll be more than a wee kiss I’m delivering.”
Her desire to slam the door shut was overwhelming, but she did nothing more than lift her chin to offer her lips.
With a soft groan, he captured her mouth. Fire danced along her veins as he plundered its depths again and again, tasting her like a man starved. For her part, she couldn’t get enough of his whiskey-scented breath. The hint of mint made her vaguely wonder if he’d planned this with a peppermint or if he’d come to her directly after brushing his teeth as he prepared for bed. She didn’t care either way.
Her naughty fingers found their way under the hem of his shirt to explore the sculpted ridges of his stomach and draw him closer. Reveling at the feel of his hard chest against her unbound, tee-shirt-covered breasts, she moaned.
The kiss lasted forever and still ended way too soon. By the time Cian pulled away, Piper’s resolve to hold out for a relationship was a puddle of goo on the floor.
“You can stay,” she whispered past her suddenly dry throat.
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her.
After delivering a heart-wrenchingly sweet kiss, he rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. “It’s not wise. I’d be too tempted to never leave your bed again.”
“I don’t see that as a problem.” Where she found the daring was in question, but she knew she’d regret it if she didn’t try one last time. “I really like you, Cian. Can’t you open your heart just a little bit to possibility?”
He traced her furrowed brow and ran his fingertips down her cheek, then dropped his arms to his sides. “You don’t see the problem because you are open to possibility. And I’d rather cut off my right arm than hurt you, but I can’t give you what you want.”
She’d tried and failed, and now could only nod, finding words difficult to muster.
“This isn’t me playing games. I’m finding it hard to keep away.” His serious tone was heavy with regret, and she hated it. “You’ll never know how sorry I am that I can’t be the man you deserve, Piper.”
“I promised your sister I would try to recreate Granny O’Malley’s elixir tomorrow. Afterwards, it’s better if I head out.” She cleared her aching throat. “I guess this is a goodbye of sorts.”
He ignored her farewell and only chose to acknowledge her comment about the potion. “Bridget told me you found the recipe. You could’ve knocked me over with a finch feather.”
“Me, too.” She rested her hand on the knob of the open door. “It’s late, but I’m happy to discuss it more over breakfast.”
Taking the hint, he moved the few steps necessary to exit. On the other side of the opening, he turned back to her. “Oíche mhaith, darlin’.”
She nodded hesitantly, because she had no idea what he said.
“It means good night,” he said with a soft chuckle.
After she closed the door, she leaned her forehead against it and allowed a stray tear to fall. Why was she so damned unlovable? Why couldn’t a man at least attempt a real relationship with her?
Knowing she’d not find the answers she sought this night, she climbed into bed, positive sleep would elude her.
Morning sunshine, flitted through the curtains and mocked Piper’s foul mood. She could hear the house stirring and knew Bridget would start cooking for the masses soon, if she hadn’t already. Still, Piper couldn’t find the energy to abandon the bed. She’d only managed a broken three hours of sleep, and she was as grumpy as a bear with a sore paw. If one person said the wrong thing to her today, she might take a swipe at them.
For that reason, she decided to stay abed and conjure her own meal.
As she was warming to the idea, a knock sounded at the door.
After expressing a heartfelt groan and determining that any visitor who was scared witless by her appearance deserved it, she climbed over the mound of covers.
“Spring!” All her ire dissolved in the face of her cousin’s sweet disposition. No one could be irritated in her presence. A more naturally stunning woman didn’t exist, and Spring always maintained a serene expression, unless it came to the epic clashes with her husband Knox.
Piper hid a jaw-cracking yawn behind her hand. “I wasn’t expecting you at the butt-crack of dawn. Isn’t it still the middle of the night by you?”
“I couldn’t sleep. My excitement got the better of me.” With a toss of her tawny curls, Spring swept through the doorway and dropped a canvas bag on the foot of the bed. “I found everything we need for the potion but one item, and I can’t wait to get started.”
“What about that extra item?”
“I saw Bridget on the way up and she said we could find it at a nearby waterfall.” Spring cast a curious glance around the large room. “Cute. Knox and I might have to take a vacation soon.” With an impatient wave of her hand, she said, “Hurry and get dressed. Time’s a’wastin’.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t like you very much.”
Her cousin’s musical laughter rang out, and the melodic sound was soothing to Piper’s raw nerves. She grinned and bussed a kiss on Spring’s petal-soft cheek.
“Where’s your husband? He’s never far behind.”
“Actually, he is this time. I managed to convince him to back off because I’m seriously sick of his overprotectiveness.”
Piper paused in pulling on her jeans and stared in open-mouthed wonder. It was well known in their family—hell, throughout the entire witch community—Knox Carlyle never left his wife’s side if she was going farther than her family home. He’d failed to protect her once with tragic consequences, and—unlike Piper at the moment—he refused to be caught with his pants down again.
“You’re joking?”
Her cousin avoided her eye.
“Where exactly does he think you are, Spring?”
“Visiting with my sisters.”
“He’s going to murder us both!”
“He is not.”
“He is, too,” interrupted an anger-infused voice from over by the doorway.
Piper yelped and scrambled to pull up her pants as Spring sputtered her husband’s name. Of course, Piper needn’t have worried about her unmentionables since Knox had locked his furious eyes on his guilty-as-sin mate.
“You lied to me.” His voice was silky soft with an underlying hurt.
Staring at him now, all six feet two of panty-melting eye candy, Piper wondered why Spring didn’t chain herself to the guy. He absolutely adored her cousin and would die for her without a moment’s hesitation. How many women were lucky to have a guy like him in her life?
Not many.
Spring opened her mouth but no words came out.
With purposeful strides, he approached his wife, gently tipped her chin up, and gazed down at her with a tenderness so disarming and sincere, it brought Piper’s tears to the forefront. She suppressed a girly sigh at how romantic he appeared, struggling between chastising Spring or hugging the ever-loving hell out of her.
He gave a rueful shake of his head and dropped a light, lingering kiss on her pouty mouth. “Please stop taking years off my life.”
“It’s Ireland, babe. Nothing terrible happens here,” Spring countered.
Piper held up a hand. “Not true. Cian threw a big burly Russian off the cliff yesterday.”
Both Knox and Spring were nonplussed.
Spring recovered first. “How do you know he was Russian?”
“That’s your question?” Knox asked dryly. With a shake of his head, he looked back at Piper. “Okay, I’ll bite. How do you know he was Russian? Also, who is Cian and why is he throwing big burly men off cliffs?”
After conjuring tea and scones, Piper recounted the entire incident.
“Never a dull moment in this crazy-ass family,” Knox muttered.
Because she couldn’t argue with his assessment, she nodded. “Truth.”
He released a bark of laughter, but before he could say anything more, the door burst open to reveal a harried-looking Cian.
“Who’s he and what’s he doing in your bloody room?” Cian demanded barely shy of a bellow.
At the first sign of invasion, Knox had lifted his arms and drew electricity from the molecules around him. Blue sparks snapped and crackled between the fingers of his right hand as an energy ball rotated an inch above his palm.
Wanting nothing more than to prevent a bloodbath, Piper inserted herself between the men. “Please stand down, Knox.”
“No.”
“Babe.” Spring’s endearment sounded more like a scold. She ducked under her husband’s arm, rolled her eyes, and held out a hand. “You must be Cian. I feel like I already know you. I’m Spring Thorne… er, Carlyle.” She shot a sheepish grin over her shoulder toward Knox. “You’d think after all this time I’d be used to my married name.”
Knox extinguished the weaponized energy ball and postured by folding his arms across his chest, thereby making his sculpted biceps more intimidating—and mouth wateringly delicious. “Especially since you wrote Mrs. Knox Carlyle thousands of times in your diary growing up.”
With an outraged cry and an elbow to her husband’s stomach, Spring said, “It was an enchanted pen that got carried away.”
They all shared a laugh at her blatant lie.
“Yep, this is my family,” Piper gave Spring an affectionate smile, then turned her curious gaze to Cian. “Care to explain why you charged in here ready to maim someone?”
Red crept up his neck as he darted a look in Knox’s direction. “I don’t.”
“You don’t what?”
“Care to explain, and that’s all I’m going to say about it.”
His stubbornness was somewhat endearing, as was his obvious jealousy. Piper found it difficult to hold back her grin.
“Was the burly dude Russian?” Spring asked with wide-eyed delight.
Dumbfounded, Cian stared at her. Whether it was her off-the-wall question or because her cousin was jaw-droppingly beautiful, Piper couldn’t say. But she tapped a finger under his chin to close his trap. “She’s taken,” she murmured. “By the guy who would fry you to a crisp and step over your smoldering bones if you look at her sideways.”
Cian laughed. “I thought I made it clear to you earlier, I don’t play in other men’s houses, Piper me love.”
Knox held out a hand. “In that case, I’m Knox Carlyle, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
12
Due to the cramped quarters, they took their tea and scones to the downstairs sitting room to discuss the reason for Spring’s visit. Cian couldn’t resist taking the spot next to Piper on the loveseat. She’d be gone soon, and the whirlwind of conflicting emotions caused by her imminent departure threatened his peace of mind; a small sense of relief mixed with a larger part of pure regret and a dash of what-if.
