by Sarah Curtis
“Your nerd is showing.”
“It’s called curiosity. You should try it sometime. Expand that pea-sized brain of yours.”
Huffing, he said, “Come on. I’m starving. Let’s hope they have good grub here.”
Ivy could recite the whole menu, but she wouldn’t, still smarting from the walking-encyclopedia shot Jason had thrown at her. “They make specialty burgers and fries.”
He nodded. “I can get behind a good burger.”
Jason opened the door and held it for Ivy to walk through before following. While her eyes adjusted to the low lighting, her nose was hit with the aroma of fried food and sage. Her stomach rumbled.
They headed for the bar and its owner who stood behind it. Hiking herself onto a stool, Ivy tucked her case at her feet and smiled as Emerson approached. “Looks like the place is doing good business.” Almost all the tables were full.
“And this is only Tuesday. I can’t wait to see how the weekend goes. The campaign you ran on Juzt Adz is doing great. Really bringing customers in.” Emerson smiled, showing perfectly straight teeth framed by ruby-red lips enhanced by the lip gloss she wore. The deep red color contrasted with her pale skin, as did her jet-black hair and blue eyes.
Ivy smiled back. “I’m glad. I’ll let it run for another week and see if it’s still performing.”
Jason shoved his hand forward. “Seeing as Ivy’s not going to introduce us,” his smile was bigger than Emerson’s, “hello, beautiful, I’m Jason.”
Ivy rolled her eyes at Jason’s display of interest. He was gay but so firmly in the closet, he wouldn’t be able to find his way out even if the door was open and a flashing, neon sign pointed the way.
Emerson took his hand. “Emerson. It’s a pleasure.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
Deciding to cut in before she threw up, Ivy picked up a menu and slapped it against Jason’s chest. “I was just telling him how good your burgers are. He can’t wait to try one.”
Reminding him of his stomach seemed to do the trick. His gaze moved from Emerson to read the menu. “The full Irish burger sounds interesting. I can have breakfast and dinner in one go.”
“Make it two,” Ivy agreed. “And a couple orders of champ fries.”
“Champ fries?” Jason raised a brow.
“Crispy potatoes topped with sour cream and chives.” Ivy’s mouth watered just thinking about them. The Parting Glass was definitely not the place to visit if one was on a diet.
“I’ll put your order in.”
Emerson disappeared into the back and Ivy reached down to grab her camera case. “I’m going to take some pictures while we’re waiting. You’ll be okay sitting by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine, Mom. Go. Do your thing.”
Ivy made her way to the side of the room and tucked herself into a corner to make herself inconspicuous. Most of the tables were full. She zoomed out, taking a wide shot, capturing mainly the backs of heads and profiles. She could lightly blur any people she’d caught full-face.
She panned the room, taking a few more shots, stopping at a table where three men were seated. Her mouth fell slack. Holy Sith! Unthinkingly, she clicked the shutter three times in succession. Not daring to blink, she zoomed in on the one with the most interesting features. Dark-brown hair cut short. Strong jaw covered with stubble. Full lips. Roman nose. He wasn’t as beautiful as the African American sitting to his right, or as big as the blond guy with the Nordic features across the table, but there was something about him that intrigued her. He captured her attention and held it.
She tried to angle the camera to see him better, but with the way his head was turned, she couldn’t make out the color of his eyes—darn it. Most likely they were brown, as seventy-five percent of the world’s population were with blue coming in a distant second at only ten percent. The chances his eyes were green—her personal favorite—were slim. Only five percent, in fact.
Her finger hovered over the shutter button, but just as she was about to snap another picture, he turned his head. His gaze zeroing in on her. She took it back. Green was no longer her favorite. The deep-chocolate brown of this man’s eyes was. Surrounded by long, thick lashes that would be the envy of any woman, they were breathtaking. Then those gorgeous eyes narrowed, and it completely ruined their effect.
She lost his attention when he stood, saying something to his tablemates. Tipping her head back, she followed him with her camera. Holy Chewbacca, he was tall. His strides ate the distance of the dining room as he came straight for her. She lowered the camera but was otherwise frozen in place as she watched him approach, anger in his every step.
Um… Yikes.
Chapter Two
Colt
Looking for loiterers, Colt scanned the area around the restaurant before getting out of the car. Paparazzi had a nasty habit of coming out of the woodwork. He supposed he should be flattered he was big enough news to draw their attention, but honestly, it just pissed him off. Nothing could ruin a morning more than seeing a bunch of tabloids running an exaggerated story. And all from the inference of one photo. According to them, in the past three years, he’s had over ten girlfriends, was engaged twice, fathered three children, and his house was vandalized. It was amazing what people could do with Photoshop nowadays. Making it a fact, that in this day in age, a picture may still speak a thousand words, but they were all mostly lies.
Linc pulled into the spot next to him, revving his Porsche 911 before cutting the engine.
Show off.
Colt opened the door of his more practical BMW and stepped out.
“Looks like Oz beat us here.” Linc tossed his keys in the air, caught them, then shoved them in his pocket.
Colt scanned the parking lot. Oz’s Escalade was parked in a prime spot near the front door. “Come on, let’s see if he got us a table.”
Oz was not hard to miss, taking up more than his share of the bench on his side of the four-seater booth he’d snagged. Colt and Linc weaved their way through the restaurant to the table. He liked the fact it was tucked into the corner—less chance of their meal being disrupted.
“Hey, you made it.” Oz wore a big, goofy grin. The man did love his food.
Colt followed Linc into the booth and picked up a menu.
“Isn’t this place great? Irish-themed specialty burgers. Who’d have thunk it?”
Colt frowned at his menu. “Don’t think I’ll be trying the Black and White Pudding Burger.” His stomach rolled as he read the description.
“Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”
Colt looked up at Oz. “It drew the line at pig’s blood.”
“Banger Burger? Not sure what that is but it sounds like it was named after me,” Linc added his two cents with a grin.
“Banger is Irish for sausage,” Oz informed him.
Okay, that wasn’t so bad, Colt thought. “And what about rashers?”
“Bacon,” Oz replied.
He could eat a bacon burger. That settled, he put the menu down and looked around the room. Most tables were filled with an eclectic mix of customers ranging in ages from kids to adults. He noticed the game room wasn’t occupied, but it was still early. More than likely, after the dinner rush, the party crowd would roll in and both the bar and game room would see more action.
Catching a flash of something, he trained his gaze to a far corner and saw the reflection of a camera lens pointed at their table. He ground his teeth. Fucking paparazzi were everywhere.
Colt stood. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He made his way across the room, his anger growing with every step. God only knew what the morning’s headline would read if he didn’t put a stop to it.
“What the kriff?”
Colt examined the camera he’d taken from the woman, barely paying attention to her or what she was saying.
“Give that back!”
A hand entered his field of vision, and he turned his body, blocking it.
&nbs
p; “I said, give it back.”
The woman tugged on his forearm, but he paid it no heed, finding the button to pull up the photos already taken so he could delete them.
“I said…”
Two hands wrapped around the camera, giving it a yank.
“Give it back!”
Colt finally looked up, and his body froze, the camera slipping, unnoticed, through his fingers.
The woman bowed her head, inspecting the camera, and now all he saw was a mop of pink hair piled into a knot at the top of her head. But he didn’t need to see her face to remember the most beautiful gray eyes he’d ever seen.
“Are you some kind of lunatic? Camera thief? Vampire who doesn’t like their picture taken?” Her head was still bowed, and as she talked, the knot of pink bobbed.
He was fascinated by it.
Her head lifted, and she speared him with her beautiful grays. “Well?”
He blinked.
Both her eyebrows raised, and he recovered himself enough to ask, “Well, what?”
She huffed, and even on threat of death, he couldn’t stop his gaze from dropping to her chest. A chest, he noted, that filled out her t-shirt very nicely, with the v-neck dipping low and exposing a bit of cleavage.
“Well, which is it?”
The fog of his initial reaction to her started to clear and the frustration that still simmered beneath the surface reared its head. His jaw locked, and he gritted, “Which is what?”
She stared at him, her eyes calculating. “Never mind. I think I’ve got you figured out.”
Colt snorted. No doubt she did. “Listen. Just delete the pictures you took of me and my friends, don’t take any more, and I won’t press charges.”
Her mouth opened then closed, her nostrils flaring. Camera forgotten, it dangled from one hand as her other landed on a cocked hip. “What is your problem?”
“My problem is people like you exploiting people like me just to make a few bucks.”
“People like you? Listen, buddy, I don’t know who the kriff you think you are, but I’m not exploiting anyone. You don’t want your picture taken? Fine. All you had to do was ask and I would’ve deleted it. Not act like an idjit, grabbing things that don’t belong to you.”
Sarcasm dripped from his words and he raised a brow. “All I had to do was ask, and you would’ve deleted it?”
She crossed her arms, pushing her tits up which enhanced the view of cleavage, distracting him.
“Yes.” She tapped a sneakered toe.
Pulling his eyes from her chest, he smirked. “Somehow I hardly doubt that.”
“Honestly, buddy, at this point, I don’t care if you believe me or not. But to untwist your tighty-whities…” She fiddled with the camera then shoved the viewer in his face. “There. All gone. Happy?”
His head reared back, a frown pulling at his lips. He took the camera and scrolled. “You deleted them.” Then he started paying attention to the other pictures she’d taken. Other patrons, the restaurant bar, the gaming area, the sign out front.
A sinking feeling hit his stomach. “You’re not paparazzi, are you?”
Her eyebrows dipped and she pursed her lips. “Nooo. Why would you think that?”
“If you have to ask, that must mean you don’t know who I am.”
Her frown deepened, forming a line between her brows. “Your face isn’t familiar, and I watch a lot of TV and movies.”
“But you don’t watch football.” It was a statement. He already knew the answer.
She shook her head. “I don’t watch any sports.”
Feeling like a first-rate idiot, he handed the camera back. “Sorry for the misunderstanding.” He pivoted and took a step.
“Hey! Wait a minute.”
He stopped, turning his head to look at her.
“You’re just going to leave me with a cliffhanger? You’re not going to tell me who you are?”
“It’s probably for the best.” Better for him at any rate. Her gray eyes would already haunt him for days to come, he didn’t want to add knowing her name into the mix. That would make it too easy to seek her out. The last thing he needed was to get involved at the start of the season—no matter how tempting the woman may be. He didn’t have time for a relationship. Not if he wanted to keep his head in the game.
But logical thinking didn’t stop him from looking her direction once he reached his table. The spot she’d been standing in was empty. He scanned the restaurant and saw her at the bar, sitting next to another guy.
Perfect. She had a boyfriend. That should cure his fascination with her.
Ivy
Ivy weaved her way back to the bar and positioned herself on the stool next to Jason.
He turned to her as she sat. “Get what you needed?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s wrong?”
He knew her too well.
“Nothing.” The last thing she wanted was to ignite Jason’s short fuse.
“Nothing didn’t put those lines on your forehead or turn your ears red.”
She sighed, knowing he would hound her until she gave up the goods. “Some guy didn’t like that I took his picture. Got a little handsy—with my camera, not me,” she was quick to correct when she saw the sparks that flared in his eyes. “We had words.”
Jason craned his neck. “What guy?”
Ivy put a hand on his forearm. “It’s over and done with. Let it go.”
“Fuck that. No one messes with you and gets away with it. Now, tell me which guy.”
Huffing, she replied, “Far corner booth. The one with short, brown hair.”
With a hand planted on the bar, Jason stood. She latched on to his arm, prepared to bodily put him back into his seat if need be, but, in a move she wasn’t expecting, he plopped back down himself. When she looked at him, his eyebrows were clear to his hairline.
“What is it?”
“Do you know who that is?”
Seemed she was the only person on the planet who didn’t. Disgruntled, she admitted, “He left without telling me.”
“That’s P. Colton, quarterback for the Phantoms. He’s huge.”
“Explains why he thought I was the paparazzi.”
Jason belly laughed.
“Thanks for that. What happened to… No matter the cost, I will defend your honor?” She’d deepened her voice, doing her best Jason imitation.
“That was before I knew it was P. Colton.”
Rolling her eyes, Ivy turned her attention to the burger that had been delivered in her absence and picked it up. She should be happy Jason hadn’t stormed off to pick a fight, and she was, but something was bugging her. “How do you know so much about football, anyway? I never see you watching it at home.” She took a large bite of her burger, licking at the gooey egg yolk and the combined juices from the meat, mushrooms, and fried tomatoes that slid down the side of her hand.
He swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I watch at Warriors.”
Ivy wracked her brain. “Isn’t that the sports bar on 12th?”
Jason confirmed with a nodded grunt.
“Why do you watch there?”
Instead of answering, he shrugged and filled his mouth with another bite of burger.
Interesting. Jason was usually only evasive when he was embarrassed about something.
She took another bite and swallowed before asking, “So, this P. Colton…” She’d refrained from looking over her shoulder since she’d sat down but found herself doing so now, her gaze drifting to his table.
“What about him?”
Was he single? Why was that the first thing that had popped into her head? She didn’t even like the guy. A handsome face did not make up for a grumpy disposition. “Never mind.” She pulled her concentration back to her plate, kicking herself for even entertaining the thought.
Not one for deep discussions, Jason let it drop and didn’t prod. A few minutes later, he pushed his plate away, tossing his napkin on top. “You al
most ready to go?”
Ivy looked down at her half-eaten burger and picked-at fries. “Yeah.” She’d gotten enough pictures to fill the rest of the website.
Jason grabbed Emerson’s attention. “How much do we owe you?”
She gathered their plates, eyeing Ivy’s with a slight frown. “No charge.”
“No way,” Ivy was swift to reply.
“Yes way.” Emerson smiled. “It’s the least I can do for all your help getting this place up and running.”
“Help that you paid for.”
Ever the negotiator, Jason was quick with a solution. “You don’t let us pay, we won’t ever come back to eat.”
“And wouldn’t that be a shame. I’d miss out on so many great meals.” Ivy laid it on thick.
“Fine.” Emerson yanked Jason’s debit card from his grasp. “But I’m applying an employee discount.”
“Deal.” Ivy smiled as she watched Emerson march to the register.
“It’s still early. You want to grab a movie?” Jason asked as they made their way through the parking lot.
“Sure.”
They got in the car and Ivy pulled up the theater app on her phone. Then they argued forever before Jason finally gave in and agreed to the latest superhero movie.
Excited because it was one she’d been dying to see since its release the week before, she started the car, put it in reverse, and backed out of the spot. A loud crunch filled her ears at the same time a jolt forced her upper body forward, her seatbelt tightening across her chest. She slammed on the breaks, her line of sight flying to the rearview mirror.
Jason’s voice was loud in her ear, but she didn’t pay attention to what he said as she stared at the car she’d just hit and the man stepping out of it.
Well, poodoo!
Chapter Three
Colt
“Son of a…” Colt struck the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. Throwing open his car door, he stepped out and assessed the damage. The car that hit him was now one with his left rear fender.