by Emma Tharp
He’s adorable. He’s got a baby face and a small dimple in his left cheek when he grins.
“Nice to meet you.”
“I should say the same. My brother came to my room last night with a huge-ass smile on his face. He told me about hanging out with you.”
Surely, he wasn’t that happy after he left me last night. I wonder if he got a call or met someone else at the hotel bar.
“You look surprised.”
“I guess I am.”
“You shouldn’t be. All I’m saying is that Brae seemed excited that you might be going to the Guinness Storehouse today.”
I’m next up to order. I ask for a large coffee and turn back to Jackson. “What do you like?”
“I need two coffees and an Earl Grey.”
I tell the barista to add the extra coffees and tea. I pay, and Jackson and I move down the counter to the pick-up area.
“Thanks,” Jackson says.
“No problem. It’s the least I can do for you guys. I mean, you are going to be my personal tour guides today.”
“It’s just you and Brae today. Patrick and I have some other plans. We’ve already been to the Storehouse. You guys are going to love it.”
When the barista comes over, he sets the drinks I ordered down in front of me.
Jackson leans in and grabs a coffee and a tea. He’s got the look of a kid who’s been caught putting his hand in the cookie jar. “Would you mind taking this up to Braeden’s room? I told him I’d get him a coffee, but I’m sure he’d be happier to see you deliver it.”
If I didn’t know any better, it appears that Jackson is trying to set me up with his brother. “Okay. I can take this up.”
“Great. It was so nice meeting you. We’ll have to get together soon for dinner. It’d be fun to get to know you better.”
“Likewise.” And before I can say more, he’s walking away.
I add a cream and a sugar to one of the coffees and grab a few extra to take up to Braeden.
When I stand in front of Braeden’s door, I have to stack one cup on top of the other so I have a free hand. I give the door three brisk knocks, like a man would do. I’d like to surprise him. He isn’t expecting me; he’s expecting Jackson.
I’m more than a little giddy to see him this morning. My heart beats a little faster when I hear his footfalls get closer.
When his door swings open, I’m greeted with just-showered-half-naked Braeden. He’s wearing a white towel draped around his waist. His hair is still wet and drops of water are scattered over his strong chest and abdomen. I’ve never seen a man in the flesh with an actual V before, the one where his muscles form that perfect letter right above his towel. My imagination gets the better of me and I wonder what I’d see if I tugged his towel away.
“Hi,” is all I get out. My tone is breathy, like I just finished running a marathon.
He inhales. Maybe he can smell my perfume or the coffee. His shoulders broaden as his lungs fill. I’m transfixed by his beauty. My eyebrows must be touching my hairline.
“Good morning.” His eyes flash enjoyment. He knows how good he looks. And now he knows just how good I think he looks. Damn.
“I brought you coffee. I met Jackson in the line at the café.”
He grabs the coffee I’m holding out to him. “Thanks. Why don’t you come in?”
I pass the threshold of his room and stand here, fiddling with the lid of my coffee and gawk at him. He’s rifling through his luggage. “Give me a second.” He walks past me to get into the bathroom. His delicious just-showered scent hits me just as his shoulder brushes against mine. It’s the lightest touch; he probably doesn’t even notice it, but I do. Even though I hide it, the sensations dance through my body, fully waking it better than any coffee could. I take a seat at the small desk, wait for Braeden, and attempt to calm myself.
What feels like less than a minute passes and he’s already out and fully dressed. “Have you decided?”
“Decided what?”
“If you’re going to come with me today.” He sits in the chair next to me and takes me in. “I’d love it if you would since my brothers have other plans.”
I don’t play coy. I hate game playing. “Yeah. I think I will join you.”
“Great.” He takes a long swallow of coffee and jumps out of his seat. “Let’s go.”
He gives me his hand again, so confident that I’ll take it. Of course, I do and he pulls me up so I’m standing in front of him.
“The Guinness Storehouse isn’t too far for us to walk, unless you want to take the motorcycle and when we’re done we can go for a ride.”
As much as I would love to get right back on the back of Braeden’s motorcycle, I could use the exercise. The food I’ve been eating here is heavy and I don’t plan on holding back on the beer today either. “Let’s walk.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He takes my hand and leads the way.
It’s another gorgeous day and I’m in a much better state of mind than I was yesterday. I’m looking forward to spending the day exploring the city with my hot tour guide.
Even though St. Patrick’s Cathedral isn’t on our direct route, Braeden takes me there. We walk around the well-manicured, geometric-shaped grounds. It’s beautiful, the huge gray stone structure is almost menacing in its stateliness. I can only imagine what it looks like on the inside. It’s the largest cathedral in all of Ireland and my grandmother and I were going to attend a service while we were here. I won’t allow myself to get upset today. I tuck the sadness way down deep with all the rest of my troubles and paint on a smile of appreciation. I take in this moment in this historic and holy place.
After we’re finished touring the grounds of the church, we stroll down cobblestone streets and stop in a couple of pubs to break up the walk and enjoy some Irish beer. Dublin is such a fun city with a great vibe and energy. I’m enjoying my time with Braeden. He’s easy to talk to and has shown me nothing but kindness.
When we finally make it to the Guinness Storehouse, I’m amazed at the size of it. It’s an old stone building with seven floors surrounding a glass atrium shaped in the form of a pint of Guinness. The smell of toasted barley and yeast tickles my nose. There are more people than I expected here today and there’s music playing, almost giving it a dance club feel.
We take a tour with a Guinness connoisseur and learn about the history of the beer, how to pour a perfect draft, and get to sample four different varieties of the beer. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starting to feel a little buzzed by the end of the two-hour tour.
“I could use something to eat,” I say as our tour comes to an end.
“There’s a restaurant on the fifth floor that looks good. Let’s go.” Braeden and I walk together toward the stairs and make our way up.
You can tell by the atmosphere that it’s a more relaxed style of dining in this restaurant. It smells of rich stews and herbs. The kitchen is open, playing to the casual feel. It’s got some historic references in its use of metals, but at the same time has a contemporary modern vibe.
We’re greeted by a hostess and taken to a table for two near the center of the restaurant. “Yer server ‘ill be roi witcha,” she says as she lays menus in front of us.
“Want to share some oysters?” Braeden asks. “They’re supposed to pair well with a pint of Guinness.”
I know what else oysters do. I don’t think I need any help in that department. With the way he’s been flirting and touching me all day, paired with the alcohol, it would take very little for Braeden McLoughlin to get me in bed tonight. “Sure. I love oysters.”
“Perfect. I think I’ll try the Guinness burger, too. What about you?”
“Hmm. Everything looks good, but I’m going with the broccoli, Guinness, and Irish cheddar soup.” My stomach growls. It desperately needs food to sop up some of the beer.
Braeden laughs at my obnoxious stomach. “Good thing the waitress is coming over.”
We place our order with the
pretty redheaded waitress. She seems to be flirting with Braeden, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. I grin to myself. I know we aren’t dating, but it’s nice being the center of his attention today. I wasn’t a priority for a long time while I dated Mark.
“I’ve had so much fun today. Thanks for coming with me.” Braeden reaches across the table, grabs my hand, and gives it a squeeze. His rough callouses rub against the smooth underside of my hand. He’s a man who knows what it means to put in a hard day’s work. He and his brothers own a well-known construction company in Charlottesville. From what I gather, they do very well for themselves.
“It’s been my pleasure. Thanks for asking me to come.”
He gets a serious look on his face. It’s in his eyes; they’re unsure, timid. “I have to ask you something. And if it makes you uncomfortable, be honest with me and I’ll leave it alone.”
Oh, no. Everything was going so smooth today. I don’t like his tone. “What is it?”
“It’s about Mark. I heard you guys broke up, but that was it. And I’m not one to pry, but I’m feeling protective over you now.”
Fuck. My initial reaction is to tell him to leave it alone. I don’t want to bring up my past. But the fact that he wants to protect me is seriously sexy. I’m torn.
“I’m losing you. I can see it in your face. He hurt you, didn’t he? That guy is such a dick.”
I don’t tell Braeden that that is what people say about him as well. He is right though, Mark is a total jerk. Every time I hear his name, I see him in our bed with that other woman. It was two months ago and I can still see it as clear as if it were yesterday. I don’t know who she is, and I still don’t know why he did it. “You know what? Mark is a lying cheater. He did hurt me. I thought we were going to get married, start a life together. I was wrong.” Who knows what just came over me. What happened to my motto keep yourself to yourself? It must be the alcohol, or the comfort I feel when I’m with Braeden. When I look across the table into his chocolate brown eyes, all I see is compassion and it warms a part of me that’s been cold for a very long time.
His hands raise in the air and swing back down. “He had no idea what a good thing he had. Such an idiot.” His tone is genuine. Not at all salesy or slippery like a womanizer might sound. I’m completely confounded by this man. Everything I’ve heard isn’t adding up.
“Thank you for saying that.” I want to ask him to elaborate on why he thinks Mark had it so good, but the waitress brings us our oysters and we order another round of drinks.
Braeden scoots his chair closer to mine, creating a loud creaking sound along the hardwood. Nobody seems to notice or care. He picks up an oyster and squeezes a lemon wedge over it. “Open up.” He holds the shell just over my mouth.
I open to him and he tips the oyster so it slides smoothly down my throat. “Mmm. Delicious.” I take a sip of my Guinness. The perfect combination. I pick one up, squeeze some juice on it, and offer it up to Braeden.
When his lips open and his tongue juts out, just a little, there’s a flash of excitement between my thighs. I tilt it up and watch the oyster move past his mouth. He chews it and swallows. “Amazing.” He licks his lips and I’m transfixed. Damn. He’s turning me into a puddle. I decide it’s best if I feed myself the next oyster.
The waitress brings us our next round of drinks and our main entrees. The steaming bowl of soup she sets in front of me smells like broccoli cheddar heaven. The first spoonful is rich, thick, and hot with just enough spice. I moan a little and look up to see Braeden’s eyes fixed on me. A ghost of a grin creeps up the corners of his mouth.
“Woah. You’ve got to let me try some. If it got that reaction out of you, I can only imagine how good it is.”
I take a spoonful and blow on it for him. Bringing the spoon to his lips, he opens his mouth in the same seductive way again. This time I cast my gaze to his. He closes his eyes when the word ‘ahhh’ escapes his lips.
I’m acutely aware of my legs opening under the table. My body craves touch, and not just any touch. I want Braeden’s hands and mouth all over me. I shift my eyes away and grasp the back of my neck. I should’ve stopped drinking. My judgement is clouded. How can I be this attracted to him so quickly? Do I want to get hurt again? This is not good. I’m falling for what so many other women have fallen for: Braeden McLoughlin’s body and the way he’s taken care of me.
“What exactly happened between you and Janessa?” I blurt it out before I have a chance to rethink it.
He takes a long swallow of his beer and sets it down. His eyes widen. He opens his mouth, closes it, and pauses for a few more seconds. I almost tell him to forget that I asked and that it’s none of my business, but I instead I wait.
“Look. I’ve made some bad decisions in my life. I live for the moment and I make no apologies for that. But with her, I tried.” He hesitates and turns his head away from me. When he finally looks at me, there’s nothing but honesty and remorse there. “I don’t regret being with her. Neither of us were ready for a long-term relationship. It wasn’t one thing that either of us said or did. It just didn’t work out.”
“Thank you. For sharing that with me.” It wasn’t easy for him. I decide not to pry further.
The rest of the meal, I learn about Jackson, Braeden’s younger brother who is rebellious, creative, and at times attention seeking. And Patrick, his older brother, steadfast, stable but going through a tough time. His wife left him and only left a note and they have a six-month-old daughter. My heart breaks for him and I don’t even know him.
When the bill comes, I reach for it, but Braeden is quicker than me. “I’ll pay half,” I say.
“No way. Didn’t you just tell me that you lost your job?”
“Well, yes.”
“I happen to have a job at the moment, so I will pay for dinner.”
It’s common knowledge that McLoughlin Construction is quite successful. But I don’t expect anything from him. It seems like this is a fight that I’m not going to win so I let him pay. “Thank you very much. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink upstairs?” I say.
“Now that sounds like a plan.”
When we stand to leave, I realize that my legs are a bit like jelly. Maybe another drink isn’t such a great idea. Since I offered, we head toward the seventh floor to the Gravity Bar.
It’s a circular-shaped space with a bar in the middle. When we walk in, we are greeted by a 360-degree view of Dublin. It’s breathtaking. It isn’t too crowded. I walk to the glass and stare out at the view of the sun setting over the mountains.
I take this moment to be grateful for my good fortune. Granted, this trip didn’t start out the best, but look at it now: I’m in Ireland on the trip of a lifetime and I’ve been fortunate enough to spend at least a couple of days with Braeden.
“Hey.” Arms come around my waist from behind me and Braeden’s spicy smell consumes me. He kisses the top of my head. “You look lost in thought over here.”
I don’t turn around, but lean my head on his strong chest. It’s comfortable and I’m completely content. “Thank you. For yesterday and today. I’m having the best time. I came here apprehensive. My grandmother couldn’t come and that sucks. I’m not scared of anything, but I was to come here by myself.” I turn and look up into his warm chocolate eyes, sparkling in the dim light. I wrap my arms around his neck. “You’ve made this trip perfect.”
He leans down, scanning my face for approval. I want nothing more than to kiss him. I go up on tiptoe and bring my lips to his. His lips are soft at first, sweet, but when his hand comes to the back of my head and moves me in closer, I’m overcome by the heat and force of his lips on mine. I open to him and our tongues collide, like they’ve wanted to do this all day. I’m so caught up in it that I forget to breathe. My heart hammers hard against my ribs. I’m surprised they don’t break. I can’t recall the last time I was this turned on by a kiss. I pull away to look at him. I’m actually panting.
4
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��I’ve got a proposition for you,” Braeden says, his fingertips sweeping light circles across my shoulders.
I’d say yes to just about anything from him at this point. “Yeah?”
“What would you say if I suggest we have a fling? Here in Ireland. I’m in no position to offer you more than that, and I don’t think you’re looking for anything either, right?”
My mind races. No, I’m probably not in a position to start a relationship, but am I honestly going to be another notch on Braeden’s bed post? I’ve never been that girl. A one-night stand girl or fling-girl. Maybe I am now. I’m not the woman I was two years ago before I dated Mark. I gave him everything and he stomped all over it. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
His eyebrows stand at attention. He thought I’d say no. Or try and change the terms. “You sure? I want to be clear that it’s not a good idea for you to fall for me. I’m no good for you.”
“I know. I get it.”
He chugs the rest of his beer and grabs my hand, pulling me toward the door. “Let’s get a cab.”
He does something with his phone and by the time we leave the Storehouse and make it to the curb, there’s a taxi waiting for us. We get in the backseat and Braeden puts his hand on my thigh. He doesn’t look at me, but says, “I want to kiss you, but I’m afraid if I do this cab driver will get a show tonight.”
I throw caution to the wind, hop on his lap, and crush my mouth to his. He grabs my ass and presses me into his erection. He’s hard as a rock. My hands are in his hair and I’m rocking back and forth on top of him, creating some much-needed friction to ease the building tension.
“I’ve wanted to touch you all day today.” He breathes into my mouth.
“Me, too.” I don’t know what he’s brought out in me, but it’s not like me to be so vocal about my desires.
He moans into my mouth and it’s all I can do to not strip his shirt off, up, and over his head. Instead, I push my hands up and under his shirt and let my fingers glide over his tight ab muscles. They’re like a work of art.
When the cab pulls up in front of our hotel, Braeden pays the driver and I exit without even looking at him. We did give him quite a show.