Sipping my wine, I glance up as Ben struts through the door. I straighten up, flipping my long, brown hair over my shoulder, my body tingling as I study him. He scans the room, trying to find me with a perplexed look on his face, while I watch, amused. I guess I must look different when I'm not wearing track pants.
Eventually, he spots me. He raises his eyebrows and mumbles something under his breath as he walks toward me. My heart races, because although I keep telling myself I won't go there, when he looks at me like that, boy do I want to. He sits down on the seat next to me and taps his finger on the bar counter as he glances at me.
“Hey,” I say, softly.
“Hey. I didn’t recognize you for a moment there,” he murmurs, unable to take his eyes off me. I shiver under his intense gaze, my body reacting in ways that I really don’t want it to. “Can I buy you a drink?” he adds.
“Smooth,” I giggle. “I’ve been drinking this wine for half an hour,” I say. “But sure, knock yourself out.”
“What are you drinking?” he asks, nodding at my glass.
“Wine,” I say with a shrug. “I'm not much for alcohol,” I admit. “It all kind of tastes the same to me.” He looks at me like I killed his pet rabbit. “What?” I giggle.
“What? You say that, then ask me what?” He shakes his head, disappointed. “You're Irish, Siobhan. Drinking is in your blood, isn’t it? You’re obviously not drinking the right kind of drink,” he adds, frowning at me.
“Really? And what would you suggest?” I say, suppressing my laughter.
“A nice whiskey with a smooth finish,” he decides, after thinking about it for a moment.
He waves the bartender over and orders two whiskeys. I examine the contents when my drink is placed in front of me, not convinced it’s a step up from my cheap wine. I lean forward, sniff it, and nearly pass out. Just the aroma is nearly enough to make me drunk. Ben chuckles.
“Just so you know, if you can't handle it, I won’t think any less of you if you don't try it,” he goads.
I narrow my eyes at him, then knock it all back in one go. Something I immediately regret as it burns the back of my throat, not that I’m about to let him know that. He watches me closely, looking for any sign that I’m suffering, but I’m not giving him one, then I turn to the barman and ask for another.
Ben laughs. “You're a tough girl,” he comments, looking impressed.
“Don’t you forget it,” I grin, my throat demanding a bucket of ice.
“So, what happened?” he asks. “How did you end up sitting in a bar in the middle of Vegas?” He shakes his head, like it's the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.
I roll my eyes and sigh, taking a big gulp from my freshly-poured drink.
“Kayla happened.”
“Who’s Kayla?” he asks curiously.
“She's a good friend of mine from the old country. She's in Los Angeles studying fashion. I haven't seen her in ages, so we caught up. It turns out she hasn't changed even the tiniest bit. She convinced me to go to a wedding in Vegas.”
“A wedding?” he chuckles. “Whose wedding was it? And who the hell gets married on a Sunday night?”
“Dylan Kane’s cousin does,” I grin. “Kayla tried to bluff her way in but couldn’t get us past security. I went to the bathroom and lost her.”
“Well, I'm glad you called me,” he says, his eyes lingering on me for a very long time. I shiver under his sexy gaze.
“You got here fast,” I say.
He nods. “I was on my way to see my mom.”
I smile, because there’s nothing cuter than a boy who looks after his mother.
“She lives in Vegas?” I ask.
“Just out of,” he says. “Like half an hour from here,” he says.
“It’s great that you get over to see her.”
“Yeah, but it’s still not as much as she’d like. It's kind of hard with work, and because I'm always busy.”
“Right, but not too busy to pick up women, I'm sure,” I tease him.
“And what would you know about that?” he asks, his eyes sparkling. I flush, which makes him smile wider. “Rory said something, didn’t he?”
I go to answer and instead sway forward on my seat. I let out a little giggle, suddenly feeling dizzy, and Ben smirks at me.
“I think I'm cutting you off. You’re a little bit tipsy. Maybe we should get you back to your room?” he suggests.
“That would be lovely, only I don’t have one,” I say, downing the last of my drink.
I groan as I start to feel light-headed. This time, I nearly lose my balance and fall off the stool, until Ben reaches out and steadies me. I tremble at the feel of his arms around me, his face so close to mine I can’t avoid looking into those eyes.
“Well, I’ll book one then,” he murmurs.
“I think I could use a lie down,” I manage to say to him as he helps me out of the bar.
He guides me into the elevator, and we go down to the foyer and walk across the road to a cheaper hotel. He props me up on a seat while he checks us in. He studies me for a moment, frowning.
“Will you be okay here?” he asks.
“You’re only going over there,” I say, pointing to the desk. “Where are you going to sleep?” I ask.
“I’ll get two rooms,” he says.
“Or you can save your cash and sleep in with me?” I smirk. Then I stare at him, wide-eyed, because I have no idea where that moment of boldness came from.
“We’d better focus on you for now. I’ll figure me out later,” he replies.
He walks over to the desk, glancing back at me every few steps, while I concentrate hard on not making a fool of myself. Finally, he walks back over to me and helps me to my feet. My heart races as he touches the curve of my back. I start to feel warm, and I’m not sure whether it’s the alcohol, or him. I feel dizzy being so close to him. Rory doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Look how sweet and considerate he’s being. I gaze at him, he looks back at me, amusement in his eyes.
“Can you walk, or do I have to carry you?” he murmurs in my ear.
“I think I can manage to walk,” I fire back. “I’m not drunk, I’m just….” He chuckles as I lose my train of thought. “I blame you and those whiskeys,” I inform him.
“Me?” he laughs. “I only got you the one.”
“I know, and I only got the other one to impress you.” I sigh as we step into the elevator. “I really want you to kiss me right now,” I admit. “I wanted to kiss you the moment I saw you in the airport.”
“Did you drink whiskey or truth serum?” he asks with a grin.
He holds me a little bit closer. My heart races as I stare at him and then the doors abruptly open. He hesitates before leading me out and down to my room, where I insist he takes me inside, just in case I don't manage to make it over to my bed on my own.
“Is here okay, or do you need me to help you into bed?” he teases as he helps me sit down on the edge.
“Here is fine,” I mutter.
I don’t let go of his hand. Instead, I entwine my fingers in his and place his hand on my back. He looks at me, his expression torn. If he’s not going to make the move, then I will.
Pulling him closer to me, I kiss him, my lips touching his. It feels electric. He groans as he kisses me back, his fingers raking through my hair. He pulls away, so our mouths are just touching. I smile, my lips tingling. He looks away and then back into my eyes.
“I should go before…”
“Before what?” I prod with a grin. He shakes his head and smiles.
“I’d love nothing more than to stay—trust me—but I promised your brother I wouldn’t do this.”
I look around the room, while he watches me, amused.
“Sorry. Is Rory hiding under the bed or something, because I don’t see him in this room.” I have no idea where this confidence is coming from.
“You want another reason, then? Fine. I’m not going to do this while you’re dru
nk.”
He kisses me softly on the cheek, then he pulls out of my embrace. I watch as he walks across the room toward the door, my heart a mix of emotions.
“I'll get another room and see you in the morning. Sleep well, Siobhan.”
I lay back on the bed and sigh, feeling deflated. I close my eyes, about to give into sleep, when my phone rings. My heart races as I pick it up. I know it’s not going to be Ben, but a little part of me still hopes. I make a face when I see Rory’s name. It’s like he knows when I'm doing something wrong.
“Hello?” I grumble.
“Hey. Where are you?” he asks.
I’m tempted to pretend I’m still back in my hotel room in LA, but knowing Rory, he’s standing outside it.
“Vegas?” I say, cringing.
“Vegas?” His laughter stops when he realizes I’m serious. “Why would you be in Vegas? What are you doing there?” He pauses, his tone darkening. “Is Ben with you?”
“Why would Ben be with me?” I snap, closing my eyes.
“No reason,” he says with a sigh. “So, what are you doing there?”
“Kayla dragged me here for a wedding,” I explain. “Don’t ask, it’s a long story.”
“It always is with Kayla,” he chuckles. I laugh, because she’ll be thrilled he said that. “Okay, well don’t rush back. Meels is feeling better, but another day or so away from her probably isn’t a bad thing.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, a pang of guilt hitting me. “I came here to visit you, and I haven’t even seen you guys yet.”
“And that’s hardly your fault,” he cuts in, chastising me gently, “with her being sick and all. You’ll stay here when you get back. There’s still plenty of time for us to catch up. I’m glad you’re having fun and sightseeing. You’re in Vegas. Stop feeling guilty and enjoy it.”
“Okay,” I agree. “I’ll see you soon, then. Say hi to Amelia for me.”
Yawning, I end the call then roll over and bury my face in the pillow, the sudden urge to sleep overwhelming me. I don't even bother getting undressed, which is going to be interesting come tomorrow, considering I don’t even have a change of clothes.
***
I know it's morning the second I open my eyes since the light shining through the blinds lands smack bang on my face. I groan as I sit up, my head pounding like a steam hammer. I glance around the room, my eyes still adjusting to being open, and reach up to wipe the drool away from the side of my mouth. And now I’m grateful he’s not sleeping in here.
Peeling off my clothes, I walk over to the bathroom and run the shower. I sigh as I step under the piping hot stream of water. It feels heavenly. After twenty minutes, I force myself to get out, even though I don’t want to. I wrap a towel around me and walk back over to my bed. My heart races when I see a change of clothes, a hairbrush and a toothbrush lying on the bed. My eyes dart around the room, relief flooding through me when I confirm I’m still alone. I turn my attention back to the package, and the note lying next to it.
Wasn’t sure what size you were, but I hope these fit. Ben.
I pick up the I Love Vegas t-shirt and smile. I’m touched by his thoughtfulness, until I dig deeper into the bag and find he’s also gotten me not only black leggings, but underwear too. My face flushes as I hold up the slinky little lacy thong, knowing every time he looks at me today, he’s going to be imagining these on me. The worst thing is, I’m going to know that he knows. Everything fits perfectly—even the underwear. I brush my teeth and hair, then quickly hand wash my dress and hang it to dry, so at least I have something stylish to wear later if I need it.
When I’m done, I head downstairs to the restaurant for breakfast. Ben’s already there when I walk in. His eyes fall on me and I flush as he watches me walk across the room to his table. I sit down, and he smiles at me.
“Good, it fits,” he says. “I wasn’t sure what size to get.” He pauses, avoiding eye contact with me. “And there wasn’t a lot of choice,” he adds, emphasizing the word. I flush and mumble a word of thanks, since I just know he’s referring to the underwear.
I’m still getting over my hangover and I’m not that hungry, so I just munch on a bit of dry toast and sip my black coffee, while Ben breathes in everything he can find. I watch as he stacks his plate high with pancakes before drizzling them with blueberry sauce and syrup. My stomach churns at the sight of it. I can't stomach food in the morning at the best of times, but especially after a night of drinking. I lean forward and rest my still throbbing head in my hands. Ben glances at me and chuckles.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes,” I mumble, even though I’m not feeling it. “I spoke to Rory last night,” I add. “He told me to enjoy myself and not hurry back.”
“So, I’m guessing he doesn’t know you’re here with me then?” he asks, grinning.
“No,” I admit. “But since we are here, we might as well enjoy it. And I’d hate for you to come all this way and not see your family.”
“Okay,” he says, after a moment to think about it. “I know just how you can repay me one of those IOU’s.”
“The only IOU,” I correct him.
He shrugs off my interruption and continues.
“It’s easy, really. Just come and visit my Grammy with me and we’re even.”
I just stare at him, because I wasn’t expecting that.
“You want me to come and visit your grandmother with you for driving to Vegas to pick me up?” I repeat. It sounds so far out of the blue, it's almost funny.
“Right,” he nods, enjoying how off-guard he’s caught me. “She's eighty-five and frail. She's in a retirement village here in Vegas. All I ever hear when I visit is how I need to settle down, and how she’d love to see me married with kids.” He pauses, long enough for his eyes to meet mine. “It would make her day if I walked in there with you and introduced you as my girlfriend.”
“Your girlfriend?” I laugh.
He nods. “It's not for me, Siobhan.” He looks at me like I'm the crazy one for finding this ridiculous. “It’s for Grammy, to make an old lady happy.”
I roll my eyes because when he puts it like that, I know I’ll be the monster if I say no.
“Fine,” I grumble. “Let's go and see Grammy, then.”
***
As it turns out, Grammy is awesome. My own grandparents died before I was born, so it felt a bit strange going into a retirement home, and I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Perhaps, a little old woman sitting in a chair in the corner, staring at the wall, mumbling things to herself. But this woman was quite the opposite.
“Ben?” she gasps as we walk in.
She practically jumps out of her seat and rushes over, hugging him tight. I smile. It’s hard not to see how much he loves her, or how much his visiting means to her. She glances over at me.
“And who is this pretty young lady?” she asks.
“This is my girlfriend, Siobhan,” Ben says proudly. He walks over to me and drapes his arm over my shoulder, planting a kiss on my cheek.
“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Siobhan,” she says, giving me a hug. “What an unusual name.”
“Nice to meet you too,” I say, feeling shy. “It’s Irish. I’m from Ireland,” I stammer out, nervously.
“You know, I fell in love with an Irishman once,” she informs Ben. “It must be in the blood. Is she kinky in the sack too?” she asks, nudging him in the ribs and wiggling her grey-haired eyebrows up and down.
Ben just laughs while I gawk at her, embarrassed and mortified at what she just said. Suddenly, I’m aware both my eyes and mouth are wide-open as my face flushes hot. Still, I can’t help but be impressed by her straight talking. I like her already.
“Oh, Grammy, behave,” he warns her, his eyes twinkling.
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, but you do know I was young once, don’t you? Now, let me show you around. I know you’ve been here before, but Siobhan hasn’t.”
Grammy gives us a golf cart
tour of the village, which has everything. A golf course, a country club, shops, a pub, and a hair salon. If I was old, I’d be ready to move in here myself. I’m enjoying taking a back seat, watching and listening to her and Ben interact. It's obvious this visit means everything to her, just as it’s clear how much he loves and respects his grandmother. I'm seeing a whole new side to him, which makes it even harder to block those sneaky feelings out. Pushing them away was so much easier when he was just my brother’s cute friend, who I knew was a player. But now he's also this sweet guy who visits his mother and grandmother and loves his family.
How can I fight that?
Just when I think she can’t get any cooler, she drives the golf cart to a secluded spot some distance away. She puts on the brake and beckons us to follow her, then hides behind a big tree next to one of the putting greens and lights up a big fat joint. Right there and then, I'm sold on her. I want to adopt her as my Grammy.
“So, tell me about you two. How did you meet?” she asks, exhaling a huge cloud of marijuana smoke that billowed around her in the warm breeze. If she thought taking shelter behind a tree was going to conceal her illicit activity in any way, she was very much mistaken. However, she didn’t look like a lady who’d give a rat’s ass if she got caught, anyway. I can so imagine her being quite the wild child in her day.
After another deep draw and exhale, she reaches out her hand, offering me the joint. I don’t do drugs, or cigarettes, but in that moment, I would have loved to have shared it with her. You know, just two cool women hanging out, smoking pot, but I politely decline, and she just shrugs her shoulders and carries on.
Irish Love (The Claddagh Trilogy Book 2) Page 4