“I told you, I’m a college girl, not a party girl. I have to keep my head on straight. One wrong move can affect a lot of people, not to mention my future.”
He puts his glass down and gives me an inquisitive look. “Well, you can’t say shite like that and not follow it up.”
“What is this, twenty questions?”
“Why, do you have some deep, dark secrets you’re trying to hide?”
You have no idea.
I shrug and try to feign innocence. “What do you want to know?”
He studies me before speaking again. “Two truths, one lie.”
Oh shit. I can feel my face fall, positive that I’m busted. “What?”
He motions to the whiskey. “Two truths, one lie. It’s a drinking game my friends and I used to play all the time back in Dublin. I’ll give you three statements, and you tell me which one is the lie. If you guess correctly, I have to down a shot.”
Okay, seems harmless enough. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
He holds up a finger and smirks. “But if you’re wrong, you have to slam one.” Leaning in close, he brushes a stray hair off my cheek. “And just so you know, I play to win, Laken. You should know this about me.”
“Is that a threat?”
He winks and pushes my shot forward. “It’s a warning. Now, I’m a gentleman, so I’ll risk it first.” Sitting back against the cushion of the booth, he pretends to think hard, the lines in his forehead deepening. “This is the first real date I’ve had in eight years, I love my job, and I absolutely fuck on the first date.”
“Gentleman, huh? Is that why I’m the one with a drink in my hand instead of you?”
Niall wags a finger at me and takes another sip of his beer. “You’re stalling.”
“Well, while that’s probably the most ballsy last statement I’ve ever heard; you’re a guy, so it’s probably true. That leaves me with the other two.” I run my nail along the rim of the shot glass and squint at him. “Let’s see, you’re good looking, outgoing, funny, and American women swoon over accents, plus you work for one of the most prestigious marketing firms in New York. I’m going with door number one as the lie. You’ve had lots of dates.”
Like taking candy from a baby.
Never taking his eyes off me, he points to the shot of whiskey in my hand. “Drink.”
“What? I got it wrong? No way.”
“Do you always take shite at face value, Laken? Somehow you don’t strike me as that gullible.”
No way am I answering that. Lifting the shot off the table, I take a slow sip. “So, which one did I get wrong?”
“Are you going to shoot that, or do I need to get you a nipple for it?”
Nipple?
Holy hell.
My head snaps up, and with one glance, my breathing becomes erratic and my thoughts go haywire. His penetrating stare is almost more than I can take, so I slam the shot, burn be damned, and consequences be damned.
And apparently, the lining of my throat be damned, because fuck me, Irish whiskey is no joke. What the hell is in that shit, liquid fire?
Niall watches me with curious eyes, ignoring my hacking coughs and gasps for breath. “I’m not a trusting person, Laken. I don’t see a need to date someone when I can get a good fuck or blow job for a hell of a lot less hassle.”
“Well, that’s straight and to the point.”
“You aren’t a fan of sex?” A vague smile plays at one corner of his mouth.
“Oh, I’m a fan,” I admit, holding his stare. “I just think if you flirt with born-again virgin territory long enough, you start moving more toward fair-weather fan rather than die-hard fanatic.”
“Now that’s a shame,” he says, raking a stare down the front of my dress. “Because one night with me, and I think your position would change.” Raising his gaze, the gold flecks in his eyes glitter. “Repeatedly.”
Shit, did someone turn up the heat in this place? Suddenly I can’t breathe. Focus, Laken! Hell, focus on anything other than the thought of him bending you over the—
“Tell me about your family,” I blurt out.
Oh, well, that’ll do it. Nothing limps a dick quicker than making a guy talk about his mom.
But Niall just smiles. “They’re still in Ireland. My Da owns his own pub. I grew up in that musty old place, but it was home. My Ma is a photographer too. She would take me out on her adventures, as she called them, to experience life. She always argued I’d learn more in one afternoon of observing people through a lens with her than a week in school. She was right.”
“She sounds like an amazing woman.”
“She’s the reason for my love of photography as well as my distrust of corporate America. Don’t get me wrong, the Trasks and the Paynes are good people. I really like the owners, Nate and Rachel. I’m a pretty good judge of character, I think, but when you add in lawyers, middle management, accountants, shareholders, and board members, politics and greed tend to overshadow everything. People lie to get ahead.”
People lie to get ahead.
People lie to get ahead.
People lie to get ahead.
The phrase repeats in my head like a broken record. A shudder tears through me, and I fight a wave of guilt. “Maybe they do it for reasons they wish they could explain.”
Niall pins me with a hardened stare. “Have you ever had your life turned upside down because of lies and greed?”
“Well, no…”
“Sophie’s mom came from money—a lot of money. Her parents wanted her to marry some rich, corporate guy like them, but instead, she found herself in my bed. We were careless kids and when she got pregnant, her parents gave her an ultimatum. Either she gave the baby up for adoption and walked away from me, or they disowned her. Jenna had a huge inheritance coming to her.” He shrugs, his eyes blanking with a sadness that squeezes my heart. “Apparently, I wasn’t worth risking it.”
“She walked away from you? Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Alcohol gives me courage. “Then how did you end up with Sophie?”
He smiles wistfully. “Her parents are very prominent people. It didn’t fit their public image to have their daughter step foot in an abortion clinic, so they hid her away until Sophie was born. I couldn’t allow my child to go into the system, Laken. I knew I’d do it alone if I had to.”
“She just handed over her own baby?”
He nods. “I signed over all my rights to any money for me or Sophie in exchange for full custody. Jenna hasn’t laid eyes on her since. It’s hard making ends meet sometimes, but I wouldn’t change a thing. That little girl is my feckin’ world, and Sophie is better off without them.”
“I can see that.”
We sit in silence for a minute. As I twist my fingers in my lap, Niall reaches over and nudges me. “I’m sorry. I totally killed the vibe here. Let’s get back on track. It’s your turn.”
Somehow it seems in poor taste to go back to the game after that, but I humor him. “My favorite movie of all time is My Best Friend’s Wedding, I’ve never been in love, and I’ve never gotten drunk in my life.”
“I thought you might make this hard on me,” he jokes, cracking a smile again. “Definitely, the last one is the lie. You already told me you’re a rom com movie junkie, and I’m guessing with your piss-poor poker face during drinking games, you’ve been drunk at least once.”
The warmth of the shot starts to work its magic as the room hazes. “Drink.”
“So, is it the movie or the love thing?”
I stare at him, refusing to speak until he picks up the glass and tosses it back.
The truth must be written across my face because his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “You’re kidding me. You’ve never been in love? What about Preston’s father?”
I freeze. I don’t mean for Preston’s name to come up, and I have no idea how I’m going to get around this. Finally, I decide vagueness is my best bet. “Love is for idealists and dreamers. I barely knew
him.”
It’s not a lie. Winston Hammerle is as elusive as Bigfoot. I’m not sure if he even exists, or if he’s been created as a front so his wife can bulldoze her way into the right social circles.
Niall cocks his head to the side and studies me. “That’s a little jaded, don’t you think?”
“Says the man who had to buy his own daughter.”
“I’m sorry. I just can’t believe a woman like you has never had men fighting over her.”
I shrug. “No big deal. So, I’ve never been in love. It’s not like I had great role models in that department. The only thing my mom ever loved were roadies and flashing her saggy boobs to aging rock stars.”
“So, has Preston ever met his father?”
“A few times.” I cross my fingers under the table and stretch the truth until it almost snaps. “But truthfully, his father is indifferent when it comes to him. Preston is a little eccentric and doesn’t fit his mold of what an ideal son should be.”
Niall’s eyebrows lift. “He’s wealthy too?”
Oh shit.
“You could say that.”
He thinks for a minute, his fingers tightening around the glass. “You know, you can sue him for child support. Don’t accept this on your own, Laken. That little boy deserve more. You both do.”
Ugh. Preston does. I deserve everything coming to me.
“I know some lawyers at Trask and Payne. If you want, I can make some calls for you—”
“No!” I take a quick sip of the disgusting beer and shake my head while coughing and sputtering again. “I mean, that’s okay. I do just fine on my own. I’m a private person, Niall. I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
He regards me with a curious gaze, but his features relax and he seems to let the issue go. “So, what’s so bad about My Best Friend’s Wedding to have made it on your cinematic shite list? Do you have issues with weddings or are you just anti-Julia Roberts?”
“You’ve never seen the movie, have you?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“It’s a pseudo rom com.” I stare down at my clenched hands, feeling as if I’m telling some sort of warped autobiography. “You know, the type that pulls the rug out from under you at the last minute. Those types are supposed to end all happy and make you believe in the stupid power of karma and love, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“Well, there’s this scene on a boat, the day before the guy Julia Roberts loves is supposed to marry someone else. It’s the perfect setup for her to tell him not to do it because she loves him and you know he loves her. He even sings The Way You Look Tonight to her. How many clues does she need, for Christ’s sake? If a guy sings that song to you, there’s no way you can refuse.”
“Good to know.” Niall frowns. “Let me guess, she doesn’t tell him?”
“Fuck no,” I blurt out with an impatient huff. “He even begs her—opens the door wide and begs her to tell him if she loves him. You know, just scream that shit out loud for once in her miserable life.”
“Well, it’s a rom com. Don’t they end up together anyway?”
“No. That’s why I hate it. The hero marries the stick in the mud, and Julia Roberts loses everything.” I slice a hand through the air. “Game over.”
He drapes a hand across my thigh. “Well, considering you have a ring on your finger right now, things don’t seem to be working out too badly for you.”
A smooth talker, my will to stay platonic, and my dignity walk into a bar…
There’s no punchline here. All three walk in and only one is walking out. Any guesses on which one makes it home?
“Shots!” I call out to wherever the hell Molly disappeared to. “More shots!”
As if summoned by the word, Molly suddenly appears—you guessed it—right by Niall’s side with one hand on her hip and the other draped over his shoulder. If looks could kill, the bitch would be in a box with a concrete slab on top of her Botoxed face.
She tosses a smile Niall’s way. “How many?”
“Four,” I answer before he does, and Molly looks like she just drank a pail of piss before swinging her overinflated ass back to the bar.
He blinks at me. “Four?”
I drum my fingers on the table, trying not to flinch at the thought of downing one, let alone two more of those vile drinks. “Scared?”
“Laken, I backpacked across Europe and moved to New York City with only a few dollars in my pocket.” He chuckles and sits back, draping his arms across the back of the booth. “I don’t know the meaning of the word.”
Men are so easily distracted it isn’t funny. Invading his personal space, I close the distance between us and press my lips against his ear, unable to hold back a smirk. “Well, Mr. Mackay, I suggest you put your drink where your mouth is and prove it.”
Before I can pull away, he grabs ahold of my wrist and shifts so that our mouths are inches apart. “Play your cards right, and I’ll put it somewhere else.”
This just got interesting.
“Do you always ask for sex so blatantly?”
“Aye.” His gaze drops to my lips, and I shudder. “Only from women whose middle name is Paige.”
I’m so fucked.
When did I lose the upper hand, and why am I dying for him to just lean in and kiss me senseless? If I just brush forward, our lips will touch. Then the ball will be in his court.
No. This is not the time to lose focus and let sexual infatuation cloud my judgment. Niall Mackay holds my future in his hand, and I can’t let some stupid attraction get in the way.
I pull away. “I think you’re drunk.”
“I think you’re changing the subject, Miss Cavanaugh.” Reaching for the shots Molly put on the table during our staredown, Niall places a shot glass in front of me and raises his own in the air while giving me a wolfish wink. “To what comes later.”
Yeah. I’m definitely fucked.
8
Laken
Four shots become eight and by the time we stand to walk out of the bar, Niall acquires two more sets of eyes and has lips on either side of his face.
Or, I might be drunk and spinning. It’s all new to me.
“You know?” I say as he places a hand at the small of my back. “You’re not such…such a dick after all.”
A chuckle trails from behind me. “You thought I was a dick?”
I nod, forgetting my head is no longer attached to my neck. It wobbles unsteadily until I hold onto a chair while attempting to stumble to the door. “Yep. I thought you were just as much of a bully as your kid. She knocked Preston down and wailed on him. Did you teach her to fight like that or was her mom a WWE wrestler?”
A burst of warm air smacks me in the face as we walk outside. Niall still has his hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me away from the building, and my skin is tingling with the warmth of the whiskey. I can’t help but feel a little guilty. The night has been amazing. The date has been amazing. Niall has been amazing.
And I’m an asshole.
I should tell him the truth right now. Just get it all out and come clean. He’ll probably call the whole deal off, which is what I deserve.
I almost do it.
Almost.
Until he runs a hand up my arm and pulls me to him. All I can smell is the forest. Hell, he smells like the damn forest. It’s intoxicating, and all I want to do is curl up against him and breathe him in.
“Laken, I have to be honest with you.”
My head pops up from his chest at that word. “Honest?”
“Aye,” he whispers, his Irish accent like a drug. “I like the way things are headed with us. I want to ask you…”
Ask me. Ask me. Ask me.
“Mackay! How the hell are you? I haven’t seen you around the office since we finished the Brower account.” I swallow hard as the same burly guy who’d sent me the drink earlier barrels out of the bar and claps Niall on the shoulder.
“Feckin’ hell.” Painting a forced smile
on his face, Niall shifts away from the intoxicated man’s hold and nods to him as he introduces me. “Laken, this is Bryce Holley, another project manager at Trask and Payne.”
At the mention of Trask and Payne, I immediately perk up and try my best to act sober. Shit, why didn’t I just accept the damn drink? If I’m going to be working with these people, I can’t start off on the wrong foot.
Just as I extend my hand, Niall curses under his breath and gives me an apologetic look. “Damn. I left my credit card on the table. Laken, will you excuse me for a moment?” Tossing a warning glare at Bryce, he nods toward the entrance. “I’ll just be a minute.”
As soon as the heavy wooden door closes behind Niall, Bryce licks his lips and steps toward me. “It’s not polite to turn down a drink, Laken.” His inebriated gaze trail down my dress with hunger. “Haven’t seen you around. Are you new at the office?”
I don’t like the wild look in this guy’s eyes or the way he’s undressing me with them. I step backward and end up flush against the brick wall of the bar. “No, I’m just a friend of Niall’s.”
“Any friend of Niall’s is a friend of mine,” he drawls, baring his stained teeth.
Ew. This guy amps the creepy vibe up to an eleven.
I turn my head away and push myself closer to the wall. “Yes, well, I have enough friends, thanks.”
He braces his palms on either side of my head. “Come on, baby, don’t play hard to get. You might regret it.”
“Doubtful.”
“Well, Niall is a friend of mine, and we have an arrangement. What’s mine is mine, and what’s his is mine.” Pressing a knee between my thighs, he inhales long and hard against my neck.
Disgusted, I don’t think, I just open my mouth and react. “Way to hit on your friend’s date. Go sleep it off, asshole.”
“Is there something I can help you with, Bryce?” There’s a sharp edge to Niall’s voice as he slams the door behind him. “You know, other than my fiancée?”
“Fiancée?” Bryce’s bloodshot eyes waver briefly before the cocky smirk returns. “You might want to keep this one on a tighter leash, Mackay. She was on my dick the minute you walked away.”
Vote Then Read: Volume I Page 61