First and Only (Callaghan Brothers #2)

Not for the first time, he wished he could have seen her eyes. It was kind of odd that she had kept her shades on, even at dusk. Maybe she had overly-sensitive eyes, he thought. He had a cousin-in-law like that.

In direct contrast to his mood, the atmosphere in the Pub was unusually somber. All of his brothers were already there, talking in subdued tones. It brought the reason for his father’s sudden request to return home earlier than planned back to him in a rush; a reason he had temporarily forgotten.

Brian O’Connell, a close friend of the family, had passed away suddenly the week before of a massive heart attack. The Callaghan boys would serve as pall bearers at the funeral tomorrow.

“Oi, Ian,” said his brother Shane, clasping him on the back. “Glad you made it. Bus not too terrible, I hope?”

Ian shook his head. Not bad at all. At first he’d been pretty pissed when his flight had been rerouted, forcing him to get a bus for the last six hours home, but now, he was glad it had.

His older brother Jake poured him a beer as he grabbed a stool. Thankfully, his family had never been much for small talk or superfluous platitudes, so as soon as the initial greetings were over, Ian was left in relative peace. No one gushed over his safe arrival back home, nor did he expect them to.

Ian, along with his six brothers and his father, were part of an elite off-the-books team. Each of them had done time as SEALS, and some had black ops experience as well. They all had their special skills, and were called upon when needed – unofficially, of course. He felt their relief at his safe return in their handshakes and clasps on the back, saw it in their eyes. That was all he needed.

It felt good to be home. On paper, Jake was the official owner of the Pub, but it belonged to all of them. For the most part, he and Jake ran the place, and all but the eldest, Kane, lived above the public area on the second and third floors of the nearly three hundred year old building, which dated back before the Civil War. Three centuries of Irish fighting men had lived and worked here, and as always, it gave him great comfort to be among them and their memories.

All around him, friends and family spoke respectfully of the funeral arrangements and the reception afterwards that was to be held at the Pub. Ian tried to listen, but his mind kept wandering back to the young woman he’d left at the Carlisle. She had captured his interest and then some. It had been a long time since any woman had warranted more than a second thought in his mind, beyond the obvious. The fact that he couldn’t seem to think about anything but her was a little disconcerting.

A hot shower and a bed, she had said. He conjured up ideas of her in both. Found both extremely pleasing. He glanced at his wristwatch and frowned. Nearly thirty minutes had passed since he had left her. Was that all? It felt like so much longer than that.

Did she head right into the shower the moment she got into her room, he wondered? Or maybe she took some time to unpack first, unwind a bit. Was she in the shower now?

He tipped his head back and let the Guinness glide down his throat as he considered the possibilities. How long was her hair? He’d only caught fleeting glimpses of shining gold peeking out from beneath that damn little hood. And what about her eyes? What color were they? It was probably his imagination, but he could have sworn he saw bright flashes through the dark lenses when she looked directly at him.

Her features – at least the ones he’d been able to discern – were decidedly feminine. Even the loose cotton hoodie couldn’t completely conceal an ample chest; her faded Levis gave stunning testimony to a shapely behind that he just knew would feel amazing beneath his large palms. She was on the short side; the top of her head had barely reached his chin. A small flutter in his chest gave him pause as he imagined tucking her into him, sensing that despite their size differences, she would fit perfectly against him.

The small flutter grew into an insistent knocking. He looked around, certain that someone must surely have heard it, but everyone else seemed otherwise occupied. He checked his watch again. Yeah, enough time had passed. He’d made his appearance, said his hellos. After being out of country for a couple of weeks, no one would bat an eye if he didn’t stick around tonight.

Downing the last of his beer, Ian excused himself and ran upstairs to get his own shower. Hell, he shaved while he was at it, too. She was worth it.

“Off again so soon?” his brother Jake said quietly, catching Ian as he tried to slip out the back without being noticed. “Anyone I know?”

Ian grinned. Jake knew him better than anyone. “Not even someone I know,” he said cryptically. “Met her on the bus. Asked her to dinner, but she shot me down.”

“A woman of class, then.”

Ian snorted, but Jake was right. Despite the casual clothing and her choice of transportation, there was something about the woman that suggested she was well above the wild ones he usually went after.