Through Your Eyes

by Shannyn Schroeder

  “It’s been a long time since you’ve looked at one like you look at her.”

  “And how’s that?”

  “The way Sean looks at Emma.”

  Tommy chuckled. “Sean looks at Emma the same way you look at Moira.”

  Jimmy shoved off the wall with a nod and clasped a hand on Tommy’s shoulder before moving away.

  Jimmy was wrong. Tommy barely knew Deirdre. Sure, he was attracted to her and he knew in his gut that she was different, but so what? It wasn’t like he was looking to get married at this moment. One day? Yeah. He wanted a family of his own—probably even more than his brothers did.

  A couple of drunks jostled by, sloshing green beer from their mugs, and Tommy decided he needed fresh air. Instead of wading through the crowd, he went into the kitchen, nodded at the cooks, and stepped out the back door to the alley. The Chicago night air was crisp with the remnants of winter.

  He suddenly itched to draw. The dark alley showed evidence of drinkers and partiers: a broken beer bottle, a used condom—at least he assumed it was used—and to-go wrappers from a fast-food place down the block. Most of his drawing these days related to tattoos, but every now and then, he wanted to just draw.

  Drawing allowed him to think. To process. He inhaled a breath of stinky garbage-filled air. Going back inside, he decided he didn’t need to think about starting something with Cupcake. If it happened, it happened.

  But he wanted it to happen.

  Chapter Three

  It was 2 AM and Deirdre was so tired her eyelids felt like sandpaper. The short nap she’d taken after working at the bakery hadn’t made up for having to be awake at four in the morning the previous day. Thank goodness she’d had the foresight to ask for tomorrow off. An hour of sleep would never be enough.

  She looked around the bar. Last call had been fifteen minutes ago, and people were still murmuring about not wanting to leave. The doormen were excellent at shuttling them out the door anyway. As she hunched over a table to wipe it down for the millionth time that evening, she wanted to continue the downward curl until she was on the bench.

  The quicker she got the place cleaned up, the quicker she’d get home and to her bed. Well, Maggie’s old bed. She straightened quickly and swayed a little.

  Someone caught her elbow.

  “You okay?” Tommy asked.

  She forced a smile, again, and said, “Just tired. When my cousins told me it’d be busy, they didn’t quite explain the full extent.”

  “Take a load off.” He pointed to the tempting bench.

  “No. I just want to finish up so I can go.” She looked at him and noticed he didn’t look tired at all. “Thank you for waiting for me. I can get a lift with my cousins if you want to go.”

  “I’m okay. I’m a night owl. I tend to work late at the shop.”

  “Shop?” Even with her sleep-deprived brain, she realized that she knew next to nothing about him.

  “The tattoo shop. I’m an artist.” He held out his arm, fully decorated.

  For a moment, her gaze locked on the colors, not able to focus on any one design. Then she looked over her shoulder to where Ryan and Colin O’Leary were standing behind the bar, looking at least as tired as she felt. “I hope to be done soon.”

  Again, he laid a hand on her arm. “Take a break. Your cousins won’t care.”

  So tempting. She eyed the tray full of glasses she’d left on the next table, ready to be cleared before she wiped that one down.

  “I’ll take that in back. You rest for a minute.”

  She smiled, and this time, it was totally genuine. “You don’t even work here.”

  “The guys in back don’t know that. I blend in.” He grabbed her shoulders and moved her back to the booth, maneuvering her to sit.

  So she did.

  And holy Mary, did her feet thank her. Tommy said nothing as he picked up the tray of glasses and hauled it from the room. A minute later, he returned and began wiping down the tables around her. She felt guilty watching him work, but at the same time, she completely enjoyed the view.

  The muscles in Tommy’s back bunched as he bent over a table. His jeans snugged against his bum. And she couldn’t look at his forearms at all. Roped muscle flexed beneath the ink, and it was like a hot flash took her over.

  This wasn’t like her. When she’d gone out with Maggie and Moira, she’d blamed her reaction to Tommy on the drink. She’d had nothing but water tonight, and she was even more drawn to him. His kindness wasn’t helping.

  She pushed off the bench, convincing herself to finish her work instead of ogling Tommy. Her feet protested and her back screamed, so she silently promised herself a hot bath before bed.

  A clanking sound from the bar caught her attention, and she turned to see her cousin Ryan at the bell on the shelf. Colin yelled with his hands to his mouth, “Everyone, belly up to the bar.”

  Deirdre glanced around and saw the customers were gone. Only people wearing O’LEARY’S PUB T-shirts and their significant others remained. At the bar, Colin poured pints for everyone. She turned to Tommy and tugged his hand. “Come on. I owe you a drink.”

  Once she had his attention, she released him, but he tightened his fingers and held on. A jolt of pleasure shot up her arm. At the bar, they each took a pint and waited.

  Colin continued to speak, “Thank you to all family and friends for your hard work tonight. Without you, St. Paddy’s Day at O’Leary’s wouldn’t be as special as it is. Sláinte.”

  Everyone drank. The dark, rich brew was smooth on her throat, and Deirdre was grateful Colin hadn’t poured her the watered-down green piss the customers had begged for all night.

  Ryan clanged the bell again for attention. “I also want to thank you all. My father would be thrilled to see how much we’ve grown over the years, adding to the family. Thank you for sharing our home.” He took a quick sip. “And as a bonus, you’re all done for the night. After the craziness of last year, we decided to hire a cleaning crew to come in. Enjoy your beer and be careful on your way home.”

  Deirdre sighed in relief. Looking at the messy, sticky floor and the dirty tables everywhere, she’d thought they wouldn’t be done for at least another couple of hours. Her parents would never have considered such a thing.

  She gulped her beer and hurried to set her glass on the bar before the plans changed.

  Tommy still had half a glass. “In a hurry?”

  “You can finish. The least I can do is wait for you to enjoy your drink after you’ve waited for me all night.”

  “I don’t need it.” He set his glass beside hers. “Do you need to get your jacket?”

  “It’s in the back.” She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. The alcohol was hitting her system faster than usual. She hadn’t eaten anything since getting to the bar, so dinner had worn off hours ago.

  She pulled her jacket from the hook, and as she slid her arms into the sleeves, a warm, fuzzy feeling came over her. She might not make it to the bath after all. Back in the main room, Tommy stood leaning against the bar, talking to Jimmy. Although there was a facial resemblance, Deirdre wouldn’t have guessed they were brothers. Where Jimmy was broad and serious, almost stern, Tommy was lithe and relaxed, but both appeared to be quiet men.

  Tommy smiled easily as she walked up.

  “Ready?” he asked her.

  “Are you good to drive?” Jimmy asked.

  “I didn’t finish the beer Colin poured. I’ve been on water all night.”

  Jimmy stared into his eyes, as if to assess him. Then he turned that same gaze to her. “Are you okay?”

  “Exhausted.”

  His eyes narrowed and he stared for another beat. “Be careful driving.”

  The guys shook hands and then Tommy’s arm was around her shoulder. The warmth of his body seeped through her coat. The touch felt different, and she couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt such a spark. While lovely, a hug from Rory was not spark-inducing.

  “Long night, huh?
” Tommy led them to his car and unlocked the door for her.

  As she slid inside, she said, “It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t been up at four this morning.”

  “Four?” He closed the door and jogged around to the driver’s side.

  When he was behind the wheel, she answered, “I worked at the bakery this morning.”

  “Damn. That’s crazy.”

  “I’m off tomorrow, so I’ll be sleeping in.”

  He started the car and she stared out the window as they drove back home. The pub wasn’t far from the house and it seemed like they arrived in a blink. Tommy parked and cut the engine.

  “Would you like to go out tomorrow? After you sleep in.”

  “Um . . .”

  “I was planning on going to the Art Institute anyway. I thought you might like it.”

  In truth, she was interested. Last time she’d been in town, she’d done little of what Chicago had to offer. “Maybe?”

  As soon as she said the word, she realized how awful it sounded. As if she might get a better offer.

  “I mean, I don’t know if Aunt Eileen needs me for anything, and I’m not sure how late I’ll sleep. Right now, I feel like I could be knocked out for two days.”

  He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a tiny notepad. He scribbled with a pencil he found on the console between their seats. “Here’s my number. Call me when you’re awake. I’ll wait for you.”

  Tommy got out of the car and raced around to her door. He opened it before she had a chance to tuck the number into her pocket.

  “Thank you again for the lift.”

  “I’ll walk you up to the door.”

  She shook her head. “You O’Malleys are an odd bunch.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  She let him walk her to the door. Her stomach tumbled with nerves and exhaustion. She liked this man and because of that she should avoid him, but she didn’t want to. Last time they’d stood on this porch, she’d invited him to visit her at the pub, and now here they were.

  She stuck her key in the lock. “I’ll phone when I’m conscious.”

  They stood for a moment, toe to toe, staring into each other’s eyes. Tommy slowly wetted his lips. She knew she should move back, go through the door, but her body was sluggish and she couldn’t convince it to move. He stepped closer and paused, as if waiting for her to stop him.

  But she didn’t and he didn’t ask further permission.

  He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She tasted a hint of beer on his tongue as it caressed its way into her mouth. Deirdre stood stock-still, her breath caught in her lungs because her body had failed her.

  Her mind puddled into nothing and her blood warmed through her whole body. Tommy’s hands on her back were the only things keeping her upright because her legs had surely gone boneless.

  His kiss became more fervent and they were pressed together, leaning on the front door. Sounds she didn’t recognize murmured between them.

  Then Tommy pulled away.

  “Christ, that was hot,” he whispered, his breath still brushing her lips.

  Had she participated in that kiss? She must’ve. She wasn’t drunk. And her body instinctively warned her that she’d enjoyed it.

  “I know I should apologize for kissing you, but I try hard not to lie. I’m not sorry. And by the look in your eyes, you’re not either.”

  Air resumed its path into and out of her body at a much quicker pace than normal. Was she sorry? Looking in Tommy’s eyes, she didn’t believe she was.

  “I know you said you have a boyfriend waiting at home, but . . . you’re here.”

  The words were like an ice cube slithering down her shirt. Rory. How could he have disappeared from her mind?

  “You’re right.”

  He smiled and moved to get closer again.

  She slapped a hand on his chest. “I do have a boyfriend whom I love. I shouldn’t have . . .” The words caught in her throat, and she spun quickly and ran into the house. She closed and locked the door behind her and leaned against it to gather her thoughts.

  What had happened to her? What was it about Tommy O’Malley that had made her forget who she was?

  * * *

  Tommy stared at the closed door wanting nothing more than to twist the knob and follow Deirdre to bed. He was a total shithead to kiss a girl who had a boyfriend. He hadn’t wanted to upset her, but he couldn’t help but kiss her. She was beautiful and straightforward, and amazing.

  He didn’t think she was shy, but she was quiet, reserved, and he normally didn’t seek out women like that. And she blushed at the simplest of things. He stopped himself from knocking even though he wanted to say good night to her. With his luck, Mrs. O’Leary would answer the door. That was a mom who could throw a scare into him. He didn’t know if it was because she was so stern or if it was simply that he didn’t know what it was like to have a mom.

  So he turned and ran across the street. Before unlocking the door to go in, he looked at the O’Leary house again to see which lights came on, if any. Sure enough, the second-floor light in the front brightened the window. He waited to see if Deirdre would move the curtain aside, but she didn’t.

  He went inside and to the kitchen. Not drinking all night had kept his head clear for his time with Deirdre, but his kiss with her had made him need a drink. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, twisted the top, and sat at the table. Gulping the brew might’ve washed the taste of her away, but it did nothing to erase the memory of her body pressed against his and the sounds she’d made deep in her throat that had been a complete fucking turn-on.

  Sean came up from the basement.

  “What are you doing here?” Tommy asked him.

  “I live here.” He opened the refrigerator and moved things around.

  “Could’ve fooled me. You’re always at Emma’s.”

  “She threw me out. Said she needed to get up extra early.” He looked over his shoulder at Tommy. “I’m a distraction.”

  Tommy stood and pushed Sean aside. “I’ll make some food.”

  “Excellent. I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “Why are you up?”

  Sean lifted a shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep. Thinking about ways to drum up business for bikes at the shop.”

  Tommy scanned the refrigerator for food. They needed to go grocery shopping.

  “Crêpes?” Sean asked.

  Sean always wanted crêpes. It was one of the few recipes of their mother’s that Tommy had mastered. “If you like them so much, learn to make them,” Tommy said.

  Sean shook his head. “Nah. I’ll just wait for you to teach Emma. Then I’ll always have someone to make them for me. Plus, you know food is better when someone else cooks it.”

  Tommy took out the ingredients for crêpes. He wasn’t even all that hungry, but doing something with his hands helped him think. And right now, he needed to think.

  “Why are you up? Work late?”

  “I was at O’Leary’s Pub for St. Paddy’s Day.” He set the frying pan on the stove to heat.

  “Oh, yeah. Jimmy said you were going to hang out with Cupcake.” Sean leaned against the counter as Tommy mixed the batter. “How’d it go?”

  “It started out fine. But I think I screwed up.”

  “How?”

  “I kissed her.”

  Sean snickered. “If you need lessons, I know a few chicks who could help.”

  “I should’ve known better than to talk to you.”

  “Come on. I was kidding. What happened?”

  “It was fucking amazing.” Tommy paused to drizzle batter and tilt the pan to spread it.

  “Doesn’t sound like a problem to me.” Sean crossed his arms and waited.

  “She has a boyfriend back in Ireland. I hadn’t planned to kiss her, but when we were standing on the porch and she looked up at me, I lost my mind. Now I’m pretty sure she’s pissed.”

  “Did she enjoy it? Or did she slap you?”
/>   “She liked it.” He flipped the crêpe.

  “Then maybe it’s not you she’s pissed at.”

  Tommy looked at his brother.

  “She might be mad at herself for falling for you. Even madder if she likes you and doesn’t want to.”

  “I feel like shit. I’d never move on another guy’s woman. It ain’t right.”

  “What’s right? Do you like her?”

  Tommy nodded. He carefully slid the crêpe from the pan and poured the next one.

  “Then I don’t think it’s wrong.” Sean pulled Nutella from the cabinet and spread a generous amount on the crêpe and then rolled it. “Let the best man win.”

  “It’s not a fair fight. She can’t be here and in Ireland at the same time.”

  “So he loses.”

  “Would you feel the same if it were some guy making a move on Emma?”

  Sean’s jaw turned to granite. “They wouldn’t have a chance.”

  “I’m sure this guy would feel the same.”

  “But Emma wouldn’t kiss some other guy. I’d like to see one try. If he was lucky, he might find his lips on the street.” Sean shoved half the crêpe in his mouth. He chewed a minute and then added, “If Cupcake wasn’t on board, your lips wouldn’t have touched hers.”

  Tommy knew Sean had a point, but he still felt guilty. He could’ve talked to Deirdre first, found out if she was open to exploring something. Maybe she and her boyfriend were on a break while she was in the States. He slid the next crêpe onto a plate.

  Good thing he wasn’t hungry because Sean snatched that one up too.

  He kept pouring batter until the bowl was empty. Sean ate his fill in silence and Tommy set the rest in the fridge. Norah would have a surprise for breakfast.

  Tommy went to the basement and took a shower. He wished he had Deirdre’s phone number so he could call or at least text to apologize. For real this time.

  He wasn’t sorry he’d kissed her, but he was sorry for upsetting her. The distinction might not work in his favor. Women tended to get prickly about things like that. He crawled under the covers, still thinking about Deirdre.