She sighs. “As if you ever listen to me.” She stands before putting her purse on her seat. “Just be careful, okay? If you decide to light the fuse on this, you’d better be prepared for it to blow up in your face. Now, I gotta go to the bathroom. Try not to sext people on my behalf while I’m gone.”
I salute as she leaves, and I don’t miss the way the men sitting at the bar turn to stare as she passes. There’s no denying my sister is gorgeous. Part of it is her style, sure, but she’s also beautiful inside and out. A lot of women who look like her would be egotistical, but not Ash. If anything, I have to keep reminding her how attractive she is.
The only thing more frustrating than my sister’s extreme beauty is her failure to capitalize on it. I mean, I get that she doesn’t want to waste her time with guys who aren’t right, but it’s like she needs every box ticked before she even gets to know them, and that’s not realistic. At the rate she’s going, I’ll get married before she does, and I don’t even believe in marriage.
When Asha returns, she’s wearing an expression that’s a mix between excitement and embarrassment.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Mostly. I just ran into the most gorgeous guy on my way back from the bathroom. Man, he was sexy.”
“Ran into him? As in ...?”
“Smashed into his chest as I was exiting the bathroom.” Not surprisingly, clumsiness runs in our family. “He smelled so good, I wanted to lick his neck. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who smelled as good as he did.”
“You get his name?”
“Of course not. I mumbled an apology and scampered away. But seriously, Eden, he was divine.”
“Wait, you’re attracted to a guy before you give him a thorough interrogation about his life history? He must be something special.” When she flips me the bird, I laugh. “Where is he now?”
“Not sure. I think he went out the back to the games room.”
“Then why are we still sitting here? Let’s go.”
She waves me off. “Nah. It’s fine. He’s probably not even single.”
“Well, you’ll never find out if you don’t talk to him, right?”
She goes to sit down, but I grab her drink and purse before linking my arm through hers. “Come on. At least say hello. He could be your mythical Prince Charming.”
Reluctantly, she allows me to drag her to the back of the bar where there are three pool tables set up near a jukebox and small dance floor. Since we moved into our apartment around the corner two years ago, we’ve spent our fair share of time back here. It’s been the setting for more than a few epic pool battles.
As we set up shop at one of the tables to the side, I scan the area for her mystery man. There’s a small group of guys on the far side of the room, but none of them strike me as Asha’s type. Way too beardy.
“Do you see him?” I ask.
Ash looks around then points to a large blond guy racking balls on the table nearest us. “He was with that dude, but God knows where he is now.” She looks around. “Wait until you see him, Edie. You’re going to freak.”
He must be amazing to get my sister excited. I can count on one hand the number of times she’s gotten giddy like this.
After a couple of minutes, she nudges my foot under the table. “There he is. Be subtle.”
I glance over to where a dark-haired hottie is walking out of the back hallway.
The lighting isn’t great in this part of the bar, but even in the shadows I recognize the strong jaw and sensuous mouth. And there’s no mistaking those delicious arms, either.
As I’m inwardly freaking out, Asha leans over and whispers, “If his looks aren’t hot enough for you, be warned. He also has an Irish accent.”
“Uh huh.” Oh, I know the effect of his accent only too well, and I have no doubt it would do even more intense things to me in this environment, because as delicious as Kieran looked in a tank and shorts at the gym, he’s even more delectable in a tight Led Zeppelin T-shirt and well-worn jeans.
Asha turns to see my reaction, and I’m quick to stop staring in slack-jawed awe.
“What do you think?” she asks. “Gorgeous, right?”
I give her an encouraging smile. “I think he’s perfect for you. Go say hello.” My stomach does a weird tightening thing. It’s not pleasant.
She’s running a hand over her hair when Kieran turns and sees me. He does a little double-take before smiling and walking over.
“Oh, my God,” whispers Asha. “He’s coming over to talk to me. What do I do?”
“Just stay calm.” As he approaches, I shake my head slightly, trying to tell him not to let on that we know each other. A small frown forms between his brows, and for a second, his smile falters, but by the time he stops in front of us, he seems relaxed and friendly.
“Ladies,” he says, as Asha beams at him. “I don’t suppose I could interest you in joining our game of pool? A couple of our mates haven’t shown up, so we’re short.”
Asha practically catapults out of her chair. “We’d love to. Right, Eden?”
“Uh, sure.”
I get to my feet as Asha gazes up at him and holds out her hand. “I’m Asha by the way.”
He takes her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Asha. I’m Kieran.”
Ash looks like she wants to spread him on toast and eat him for dinner. It’s only when I clear my throat that she comes back to reality and gestures to me. “Oh, and this is my sister, Eden.”
Kieran takes my hand, and dammit, his effect on me hasn’t diminished in the hours since we last saw each other. I half expect him to give away that we’ve met before, but he doesn’t. Instead, he brushes his thumb over the back of my hand and murmurs, “Very nice to meet you, Eden.”
I pull my hand away and give him a wan smile. “Hey.”
Jesus, my arm feels like it’s filled with bath salts. I move around to Asha’s other side, so she’s between me and Kieran. Let her bear the brunt of his ridiculous sexual magnetism.
Looking even more confused, he leads us over to the pool table where his burly friend is waiting. “Ladies, this is Patrick, but you can call him Pat. Or Paddy.”
The larger guy screws up his face. “Please don’t call me Paddy. That’s what me ma calls me, and it makes me feel like I’m six-years-old.” He sticks out his enormous hand. “Nice to meet you both.”
As big as Kieran is, Pat is bigger. His broad shoulders are barely contained in a rugby shirt. He pushes shaggy strawberry-blond hair out of his eyes. Asha and I shake his hand in turn as he whispers, “Thank the Lord you ladies are joining us. It would have been a very boring evening with just me and Kieran playing. I’ve beaten him so many times, he holds no challenge for me anymore.”
Kieran coughs in disbelief. “That’s a damn lie. He’s just tired of me whupping his ass.”
“Sure, sure. Dream on, Flanagan.”
God, between the two of them I’m overdosing on the sweet tone of their Irish lilts. Pat’s accent is slightly stronger than Kieran’s, but Kieran’s voice is deeper. Dark and smooth, like good Irish whiskey.
“Now,” Kieran says as he turns to me and Ash. “Who wants to join me on the winning team?”