The Real Deal: A Dublin Nights Novel

by Sahin, Brittney

  “The flight and hotel room, er, rooms are booked,” I informed him. “But there’s somewhere I’d like to go tonight, and I was hoping you’d come with me.” I held a hand up, sensing he was going to protest that we couldn’t be seen outside of work. “With Declan and Samuel.”

  “The McGregor Youth Foundation? Not a bad idea.”

  “I think it’d be a nice change to sitting around a hotel room or lobby. Plus, it’d be a great place for Samuel to hang out while Declan’s working at the club.”

  He remained near the door as if he was afraid to get too close. “It’s a grand idea.”

  “You know where it’s at?”

  “Yeah. Will your other brother Adam, also not one of my biggest fans, be there?”

  “Not tonight.” I’d checked. “Seven work?”

  “Sure.” He turned to the side and pressed a palm to the interior doorframe. “And, Holly?”

  “Yeah?”

  He smiled. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Holly

  “Rugby and American football aren’t all that different, are they?” My sister-in-law stretched her legs out in front of her and brought a hand to her belly. “Maybe hotter, though. When Adam plays rugby . . .” Her lips quirked into a full smile, blush on her cheeks and all.

  “When Adam does anything, he pretty much kills it. He’s damn competitive.” I looked back at the boys playing rugby in the large gymnasium at the youth center from where we sat against the wall watching.

  “Sebastian looks like he’s enjoying himself,” she added a moment later, and I side-eyed her. I could hear the question in her voice: Have you fallen for him?

  Sebastian had the ball clutched beneath his arm as he ran, pulling Samuel and two other boys, about ten and eight, along with him. He gave in and fell, and I was pretty sure it’d been on purpose.

  On his back with his knees bent, the boys laughed and more piled on top of him.

  God, the man was even more gorgeous like this. Carefree. Hanging out with kids and playing rugby. I’d never thought it’d be possible to see him in this light, and when I’d suggested we bring Declan and Samuel to the center, I hadn’t imagined Sebastian would actually participate in the nightly activities.

  “You think the boys would want to try horseback riding when the weather is warmer?”

  “Maybe.”

  Anna had grown up on a horse farm in Kentucky, and when she’d first come to Ireland a few years ago, she’d immediately had a connection with the kids at the center, and she’d taught them to ride.

  She’d been a godsend for the kids, same as Adam.

  Sebastian stood to his full height and tossed the ball to Declan, who actually looked like he was enjoying himself, too. When Sebastian’s hands settled on his hips above his jeans, I couldn’t help but imagine the happy trail beneath his navel. He’d removed his jumper, and the white tee was damp with sweat, molding to his muscular frame.

  “You know, from everything Adam has told me about Renaud, I have to say, he doesn’t look so evil.”

  Sebastian shot me a quick smile before the boys purposefully tackled him again for no reason, and he went down without a fight. My chest tightened at the sight. “I don’t think he is.” I turned my focus her way. “And I can only imagine what my brother has said.”

  “Aside from his concern you’ve got stars in your eyes whenever you look at the man?” She lifted a brow. “I see the stars in your eyes now, too. I guess I was wrong in my prediction about Harrison being a good match for you.”

  There wasn't any judgment in her gaze. No creases of concern on her forehead or around her eyes.

  “You know, your brother thought he was a bad choice for me, too.” She smoothed a hand over her stomach and winced as if she got kicked in the ribs.

  “Is he kicking?”

  “Yeah,” she said, rubbing her abdomen. “Want to feel your nephew?”

  I nodded eagerly, and she placed my palm at the side of her stomach. I felt a quick flutter of movement. “Wow.” Life was amazing. Growing a person inside of you . . .

  “You want kids?” she asked when I brought my hand back to my lap and focused on the game again. Declan had just kicked the ball between the goalposts, and I clapped.

  A shy smile slid to Declan’s lips, and he tipped his head in appreciation for the applause.

  “Kids?” I drew in a breath as I studied Sebastian again, wondering why in the world I was now envisioning him as the father of my children. His child in my womb. And yet, the idea had my body warming, my pulse picking up. “Yeah, but maybe not three boys like my parents. Not sure how they handled all of them.”

  Anna was from a big family, too. Sisters, though.

  “Any idea where Declan and Samuel’s mother may be?” she asked a few minutes later after the kids on Sebastian’s team scored again.

  “Sebastian has people looking.” That’s what he said, at least. “I’m sure if anyone can find her, he can.” Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too late. I couldn’t imagine losing a parent the way Sebastian had, and he’d do everything in his power to prevent that happening to the boys.

  Declan strode my way during a quick break a few moments later, looking more like a relaxed kid than the angry teen in the park. “Samuel is having a great time,” he said, his voice a bit breathy. “Thank you for this.”

  “Of course. Um, do you like to eat?” I was attempting to further insert myself into their lives, and it had me nervous. I wasn’t used to working with teens like Anna, but I wanted to help, to support them in any way I could.

  He laughed and folded his arms. “On occasion.”

  “You and Samuel want to come over Sunday night for dinner? Home-cooked meal?”

  He grinned. “You don’t have to ask me twice. Thank you.” He nodded once, then went to grab a water.

  I looked back out to where the twenty or so kids were gathered at the center of the room. Sebastian was on his hands and knees with the younger kids climbing onto his back, and he was making a show of struggling to stand. His eyes moved my way, and he held me there at that moment, completely frozen.

  “Yeah, the man has it bad for you,” Anna whispered.

  When Sebastian finally tore his gaze away, my spine bowed because yeah, I had it so damn bad for him, too.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Limerick, Ireland

  Holly

  “That was almost too easy.” I unzipped my boots and pulled them off inside the hotel room in Limerick. “If I wasn’t so tired from running around today, I’d say we could fly home tonight.”

  When we’d been standing at the edge of the land I desperately wanted to save a few hours ago, memories from when I was younger had come to mind. Memories of running through the fields surrounded by nature, a time when I was young and carefree, not so damn responsible, and I’d teared up. Sebastian had taken me by surprise when he’d held my hand, and we’d simply stood in silence. It’d been exactly what I’d needed.

  When I looked up, Sebastian’s back was to the hotel door, his hands tucked in his trouser pockets. Eyes on my legs.

  “You handled yourself well today. I was impressed.”

  “You doubted me?” I asked in surprise.

  “Never.” He pushed off the door and strode closer to where I stood at the foot of the bed.

  The quaint hotel we were staying in didn’t have any suites, and I actually enjoyed the cozy feel of the room, even the outdated bedspread printed with pink roses.

  “You, um, also amazed me out there.” We’d visited four sites, and all four landowners had barely put up a protest when Sebastian requested they sell the land. Of course, each owner had, in turn, requested to speak to Sebastian alone and out of earshot from me, so I honestly didn’t know what else was said, but deals had been made. Mission accomplished.

  Well, almost.

  We still had to try and get the CEO of Paulson Incorporated to agree to the new pitch. It was clear Sebastian needed to make this man happy for
some reason. I shouldn’t trust him so blindly on this issue, and if anything went arseways and I was pressured to sell the land we’d designated as a wildlife preservation, then I’d change my opinion of him, but for now—he had more checks in the “good” column than “bad.”

  “They were intimidated by you,” I admitted.

  Sort of the way I was feeling now with his dark eyes positioned on my mouth.

  “People fear me.” His gaze traveled to mine. “As they should.”

  I wanted to protest, but it’d be a been-there-done-that kind of thing, and I was too tired. My feet too achy. “I’m hungry. There’s a place downstairs. Feel like eating?”

  He was less than a meter away, but it felt like we were a world apart in that moment, as if he were mentally distancing himself from me.

  Jaw clenched?

  Eyes broody?

  Body rigid?

  Check. Check. Check.

  “You should eat.”

  “But not you?” I swallowed, placed one foot in front of the other—that’s the way it’s done, right?—then lifted a hand to his chest when I reached him.

  “I’m not in the mood to eat.” He sounded grouchy, which didn’t make sense given the pretty successful day we’d had.

  “Drink then?” I needed something to take the edge off, to unravel all the knots in my stomach. “I’d say we should celebrate our success, but I don’t want to jinx it until we get this investor to sign off on a new deal.” I removed my hand from his chest and turned. “I’m gonna get more comfortable. Meet you downstairs in five?”

  I felt his gaze on my body as surely as if it were his hands roaming over my backside. Heat consumed me, and for a brief moment, I wondered if my clothes might light on fire.

  “Yeah, okay,” he finally responded, his tone husky. “Holly, do me a favor?”

  I spun to face him, finding him already at the door, his focus gathered over his shoulder as he clutched the knob.

  “Yeah?”

  His eyes flicked to my legs. “Please wear trousers?”

  “Why?” I couldn’t hide the smile that snuck up on me even if I wanted to.

  He slowly pulled open the door. “I’m trying to do something, and you’re not making it very easy for me.”

  “And that is?” My fingers swept to the column of my throat.

  “Behave.”

  * * *

  “Proper Twelve,” Sebastian ordered as we sat at our table tucked off to the side of the bar area near the window. Rain slid down the glass. Darkness had fallen over the city, and with the lights half-dimmed, the setting felt romantic.

  “Make that two whiskeys.” I settled all the way back in my seat and crossed my jeaned legs. If he wanted to behave, I’d do my best to try as well, even if I wanted to be bad—to have sex with him and finally release all of the tension that’d been months in the making.

  “You becoming a whiskey drinker now?”

  “I happen to like this brand.”

  “Because it’s McGregor’s brand?” He smiled.

  “It’s not like I’m related to the famous Connor McGregor.” And even though I wasn’t a fan of MMA fighting, I was a fan of him.

  He thanked the server for our drinks a moment later and quietly watched as I brought the whiskey to my lips. “A smooth blend of grain and malt. Hints of vanilla and touches of honey. It’s good.”

  “You know your drinks like you know your menswear. Did you want to distill whiskey as a kid, too?”

  “Funny.” I rolled my eyes. “I just have a highly sophisticated tongue.”

  He lowered his glass to the table with such force the thud could be heard over the soft local instrumental tunes playing overhead.

  He was fighting back a quip about my tongue, wasn’t he?

  “Can you tell the difference between all those whiskeys you have back at your place in Dublin?” I challenged.

  “Of course.”

  I brought my right elbow to the table and rested my chin in my hand, then I circled the rim of my glass with my left fingertip, watching my light pink nail circle around and around. “Care for a test?”

  “Are you serious?”

  I lifted my eyes to his face. “Absolutely,” I said with a smile.

  He motioned for the bartender and whispered something into her ear. She nodded and smiled before walking off. He turned a seductive gaze to me. “I always imagined if I were to be blindfolded with you, it’d be for a much different reason.”

  I swallowed, and my heart beat harder and faster.

  “Are we wagering?” I slid my thumbnail into a deep groove in the table alongside my glass, unable to look into his eyes.

  “I don’t think making a bet with you would be the best idea.”

  I was sure he was right.

  “Here you are, love.” The bartender set a whiskey flight in the center of the table—a wooden tray on which sat three one-ounce glasses. “American, Scottish, and Irish. Not in any particular order.” She winked a blue eye my way, then her hands went to her slender hips.

  The place was rather busy, and yet, I’d swear it seemed as though we were the only ones in the room.

  “Since I don’t have a blindfold on hand, this work for you?” Sebastian asked as he waved a hand at the wooden tray.

  “I suppose.” My tongue hit the roof of my mouth and remained there as I waited and watched.

  He brought the first glass to his lips, closed his eyes, then took a drink. “Jack Daniel’s. Tennessee.”

  The bartender nodded her confirmation.

  “That’s pretty specific. Bet you can’t do it again,” I challenged when his lashes lowered again as he lifted the second glass.

  “Dead Rabbit. Irish.”

  “You’re a freak of nature, love,” the bartender said with a laugh. “Bloody hell.”

  He nailed the Scottish drink as well.

  I leaned back in my seat after she’d taken the board of empty glasses away.

  “Like I said, one of my passions.”

  “And your others?”

  “Boats,” he was quick to respond. “Not modern ones. They need some age to them. Fixer-uppers.”

  The idea of him working on a boat was hotter than hell.

  My lips stretched, and he matched my smile. “You know, it’s kind of ironic,” I began, “but I always compare your eyes to that brand of rum that has a pirate on the bottle, and yet, you like whiskey.”

  “Well, the pirate part makes sense.” His smile moved to his eyes, and God help me.

  I downed the last drop of my whiskey. “Weather is looking mighty fierce out there,” I sputtered as our server reappeared at our table and positioned the bottle of Proper Twelve at the center.

  “In case you want more,” she said.

  He remained still when she left. Well, most of him. There was a slight twitch to the hand that was palm down on the dark wooden table.

  I poured more whiskey into my glass, hoping I wouldn’t regret that decision tomorrow since I hadn’t eaten dinner.

  Maybe a drink with this man hadn’t been the best idea given my desire for him. Desire I could no longer chalk up to being the only reason why I wanted him.

  Harrison had called while we were out today, and I’d almost not answered with Sebastian in the limo. Harrison had been checking on me. Graciously apologizing again for having to leave.

  Guilt had shredded me, and Sebastian had looked about as uncomfortable as I’d ever seen him while I’d been on the mobile, too.

  He didn’t want me with Harrison. He’d made that pretty damn clear.

  When Harrison returned to Dublin, I needed to set the record straight. We could only be friends. Even if nothing ever happened with Sebastian, Adam was right. I’d be unfaithful to my own feelings by being with anyone else until I could shake this thing I felt for the man sitting across from me.

  And it would shake . . . eventually.

  It had to.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Harri
son.” I hadn’t meant to speak so honestly, and I didn’t expect my response to have such an obvious and immediate effect on him, either. “How I need to make sure he understands we’re only friends,” I quickly added before he broke the glass he was holding.

  His eyelids dropped at my words, but his body didn’t relax. He looked even tenser if that was humanly possible.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to share my thoughts.”

  “I asked,” he said, his tone almost gentle. “I imagine he won’t take the news well.”

  Harrison had nearly kissed me on the bridge Friday night, but he’d refrained from making a move after the club Saturday. Maybe he’d gotten the message—he’d seen my physical response to just being in the same room as Sebastian. Hell, everyone seemed to notice.

  “Honestly,” I said, not sure what in the world I was doing, “I wish I wanted him. It’d complicate things at work, but it’d make my personal life easier.” And it’s been forever since I’ve had sex, but I kept that part to myself.

  His eyes opened at my admission, and he released his glass. His palm went flat on the table next to it. “Holly.”

  The way he said my name this time served as a warning and nothing else.

  I took another drink, buying myself some time to recover. “He wants me, but I—”

  “I want you,” he interrupted, his voice gruff, loud enough to draw attention from the patrons at the bar. And if we were in a movie, somewhere a violin would have stopped playing.

  He cursed in English, then French, and stood. He dipped his hand into his pocket for enough euros to cover everything ten times over. He tossed the money onto the table, snatched the bottle, and left.

  “You okay?” Our server strode to the table once Sebastian had fled, and I was still glued in place, not sure what to do or say. My goal wasn’t to make him jealous. I was trying to vocalize my thoughts, open up about my guilt. And . . . it hadn’t gone so well.

  “I’m fine.” I tucked my hair behind my ears, gathered a few calming breaths, and stood. “Thank you,” I said with a smile before leaving for the lift.