I quirked my eyebrow at her, causing her to smile for the first time that evening. Answering my unspoken response she added, “I know … says the workaholic, but you aren’t me, and you deserve to find some happiness. Maybe an affair with the gorgeous young singer slash chef will bring that light back into your eyes.”
I returned her smile, then laughed when Cass added, “Yeah, and the naughty factor doesn’t hurt. Have fun, do something bad, you deserve to let loose. Besides, you’re only thirty-five, not eighty … And you’re sexy as hell!”
I grinned at my friends then raised my glass and said, “To making bad decisions.”
“Absolutely,” Cass said as she downed her cosmo.
“Just do what feels right,” Ming added.
I nodded slightly, feeling much better after having talked things out with my girls. Unable to resist any longer, I searched my contacts, looking for Brendan’s number. When I found a contact listed at Rock God, I rolled my eyes, even as I laughed out loud.
Chapter Five ~ Brendan
Rock God… Really???
I grinned as I read the text, which I knew had to be from Bronagh. She was the only one whose phone I’d hijacked.
“What are you grinning about?” my brother Brady asked, causing me to turn my attention from my phone, and back to him.
We were over at Brock and Victoria’s for our weekly family dinner. They’d gone inside to change Declan, my nephew, while Brady and I lounged by the pool with our beers.
“Nothing you’d understand,” I replied, never one to pass up the opportunity to push my brother’s buttons.
“Shit,” Brady replied with a crooked grin. “What’s to understand? You meet a girl at the bar, flirt, play the rocker card, and take her home … You’re a pretty simple guy, Bren.”
I looked at him, surprised that his barb had taken hold.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, suddenly serious. “This one might be different.”
His gaze turned assessing as he leaned in closer.
“Are you saying you didn’t pick her up at the bar and take her home?”
I couldn’t blame Brady for being suspicious. My brother was cynical on his best days, and he was pretty spot on with my track record. But I didn’t like him talking about Bronagh that way, and that told me that she was different.
I wanted you to be able to find my number… How’s it going, freckles?
I was still smiling as I waited for her to respond, but my tone was hard when I said, “She’s a woman, not a girl, and it doesn’t matter how we met, what matters is that I want to see her again. I think there’s something there, bro, and I don’t want to screw it up.”
Brady sat in silence, watching me curiously as he processed what I’d said.
I’d never had a serious relationship. And other than my date to the prom, I’d never brought a girl home to meet my brothers. I didn’t date, I hooked up. I’d never met a girl I wanted to get to know better.
I had my brothers and my friends, and that had been enough for me … until now.
I don’t know what it was about Bronagh, but I wanted to get to know her better. To find out what this pull that I felt toward her was, to see what it meant.
Good. Just having drinks with my friends. What are you up to? I think we need to talk…
I’m at my brothers’ right now, but can meet you in a bit, so we can “talk”.
I smirked as I pressed send, but I had to admit, I really hoped she wanted to get together tonight. Whatever she wanted to talk about, I was sure I could convince her to give me a shot.
Come by Callaghan’s when you’re done.
I’ll be there in thirty.
“Bren’s got a girlfriend,” Brady called in a singsong voice when Brock and Victoria walked outside, Brock cradling Declan in his arms.
I punched Brady in the arm, then sighed when Victoria gushed, “Yay! It’s about time. When can we meet her?”
Brock just looked at me, his skepticism apparent.
“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t know what she is yet. It’s complicated.”
“Well, you’re welcome to bring her by for dinner, anytime, once you figure it out,” Victoria said as I stood and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
When I’d met my gorgeous, sophisticated sister-in-law, I’d had little faith that she was the right woman for my lumberjack of a brother, but she’d quickly erased my fears when she’d stood up for him against our teasing.
“Thanks, Tori,” I replied, then turned to kiss my nephew’s chubby little cheek. “See you later, Big Man.”
“See you Friday.” I clapped Brock on the back, gave Brady a chin lift, and took off, eager to hear what Bronagh had to say.
I walked into Callaghan’s, looking around to take it all in. I’d been in a couple of times before, but now that I knew it was Bronagh’s place, I was seeing it in a new light.
Having been to Ireland, I was pleased to note the traditional feel of the place, and realized that although I didn’t know her all that well, I could see Bronagh in the details. It suited her. The rich wood tabletops commented the long, well-used bar. There were signs indicating which beers were available on tap, and bottles of more whiskey labels than I could name lined the wall behind the bar. Rich greens and browns were woven throughout the room, giving it an old-world feel, which was only magnified by the old Irish music that played in the background.
My eyes landed on her at the end of the bar, hugging first one woman, then another, a huge smile lighting up her face. I took a moment to register the punch in the gut I felt at that look, wanting that smile all to myself, then moved through the happy patrons to join her.
“Hey,” I said as I drew near, alerting them to my presence.
The pretty brunette shot me a pleased grin, but the beautiful Asian woman’s gaze was more ascertaining, and I knew she’d be harder to convince of my sincerity where her friend was concerned. Bronagh’s face still held a smile when she looked at me, but I could see there was some concern there, as if she wasn’t quite certain she’d made the right decision by asking me to come.
I decided my best chance at an ally was the brunette, so I turned to her first and laid on the charm.
“Hi, I’m Brendan, and I’m hoping I can get you to help me convince your gorgeous friend here to give me a shot,” I said with a wink, causing the brunette to laugh happily.
“Thanks, but I’m not interested,” the raven-haired woman said dryly, causing me to chuckle with surprise and look at her in a new light.
Bronagh laughed and made introductions. “Brendan, these are my best friends in the world, Cass and Ming. Ladies, this is Brendan.”
“You and your brothers were awesome the other night,” Cass said.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Yes, you are all actually very talented,” Ming conceded, then turned to Bronagh and said, “Follow your heart, not your brain for once,” in a low tone, then turned to Cass and said, “Let’s give them some space.”
Cass nodded, then leaned in and whispered loudly in Bronagh’s ear, “Forget your brain, and your heart, do what your vagina wants.”
“Cass!” Bronagh hissed, her milky white skin turning molten.
I choked back a laugh while Ming just rolled her eyes and dragged their friend toward the door and out of the bar.
Bronagh’s face was still red when I turned back to her, unable to keep the grin off my face.
“Those are my friends,” she said sheepishly, to which I responded, “I like ‘em.”
She laughed and shook her head, then said, “C’mon,” and led me toward a booth in the back.
Once we were seated I said, “I’m glad you texted me tonight.”
“Well, I wanted to talk, and I didn’t think the school was a good place to do that…”
“Yeah,” I responded, then looked around. I didn’t want to get right into all of the reasons she thought we shouldn’t see each other, so I asked, “So, you own this place with your da
d?”
Bronagh pushed her hair back from her face and looked around the pub with pride.
“Yes. We always talked about opening a restaurant when I was younger, something to remind Da of his homeland. Then I went to culinary school and lived abroad for a while. When I came back here, it seemed like the perfect transition, to open a place of my own … and I knew I didn’t want to do it without my da. We’ve been open for two years now, and so far it’s been great. It’s a lot of work,” she amended. “But it’s really been better than I’d imagined.”
“Is your father here tonight?”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “He’s actually back in Ireland visiting family right now.”
“And your mom?” I asked, curious.
“My ma died when I was just a little girl. I never really knew her.”
Bronagh’s face took on a look of longing, mixed with sadness that I understood all too well. I placed my hand on top of hers and said, “I’m sorry, I get how you feel. I lost my parents too.”
She brought eyes, wide with sympathy flashing in their green depths, to mine and asked, “Both of them?”
Now it was my turn to feel sadness creep in.
“Yeah,” I responded, needing to clear my throat to get the lump out. “They died in an accident when I was fourteen. Both died on impact. My oldest brother Brock took us on and has been our father figure ever since.”
Bronagh made sympathetic sounds and turned her hand under mine so that she was holding on.
“It’s crazy … They’ve been gone now for twelve years. I’ve been without them almost as long as I was with them.”
“You were lucky to have had your brother,” she said softly, then asked, “How old is he?”
“He just turned thirty,” I answered, so caught up in thinking about my brother, and how much he’d sacrificed for Brady and me, that I didn’t notice the change in Bronagh’s demeanor right away.
“Wow,” she said softly, and I realized that her hand had stiffened beneath mine, right before she let go. “That’s a lot of responsibility for someone so young.”
“He was barely eighteen at the time, so, you’re right, it was, but Brock’s the most headstrong, hardworking, loyal man I’ve ever met. He never made us feel like having us depend on him was a chore.”
“No, of course not,” she said, lost in thought. “It’s just hard to fathom. I’m thirty-five, and I’ve never had to deal with anything like that; it’s hard for me to imagine. Your brother must be an incredible man.”
“He is,” I replied, then frowned at her. “What’s going on in that mind of yours, Freckles?”
“I don’t think this is going to work,” she said, her eyes a little wild.
“Why?”
“Because … You said it yourself, your father-figure is a thirty-year-old man, and I’m thirty-five, so what would that make me?” My eyes narrowed as she spoke, and I had to clamp down the anger that was threatening to overcome me. “And you’re, what … twenty-six? Still in culinary school and playing in a band on the weekends. We just don’t make sense … We’re in different places in our lives.”
“Are you seeing someone?” I asked, my mind working overtime as I tried to figure out the best way to approach this.
“No,” she answered, then blew out a deep breath. “But that’s not the point.”
A customer called out and waved to her. I watched as she waved back and waited until her attention was back on me.
“Then what is the point?” I asked, my frustration evident. “I think we have a lot in common, and I’ve never felt a pull toward someone the way I do with you. I’d like to explore that and see where it goes. I know you feel it too, can’t you give it a shot?”
“What could we possibly have in common?” she asked, throwing her arms in the air.
The music had changed and gotten louder, so I leaned in, crowding her a bit as I gave her a minute to calm down and bring her focus fully to me. I could see I had her attention when her pupils dilated and her breathing grew heavy.
I ran one finger down her forearm, thrilling when her pulse jumped beneath my touch.
“We have this,” I said, leaning down to nuzzle her slightly. Her breath caught and I leaned back, pushing her hair back behind her ear as I looked her square in the eyes. “Chemistry. Heat. A natural reaction to each other that’s hard to come by … But that’s not all, it’s just the foundation.” I knew I only had one shot to convince her, so I laid it all out. “We both love food. Regardless of what stage of our careers we’re in, we share a passion for cooking, for creating … We both love great music,” I added with a smile, pleased when her lips turned up, then I grew more serious. “We both know what it’s like to lose parents. To grow up feeling like something’s missing, and being envious of people who had both parents at their birthdays, graduations, and holidays.”
Bronagh’s eyes filled. Unable to help myself, I touched my lips softly to hers, wanting to offer us both comfort.
When I pulled back I added, “And that’s just what I know after being with you for a handful of hours over a couple days … Give me a shot. Give us a shot. Age doesn’t matter, don’t let it stand in our way.”
“But my job,” she argued.
“When we’re at school we’ll keep things strictly professional. No one will know that we’re seeing each other,” I promised. “But, if you’re that concerned about it, and you want me to leave you alone, I will. I’ll walk out of here and when I see you in the kitchen, you’ll be just another instructor. I don’t want to ruin things for you, or make things difficult, I just want to see what we have here,” I trailed my fingers across her neck. “Because I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“Neither have I,” Bronagh admitted softly.
I wanted to throw back my head and yell with triumph.
“So you’ll give us a chance?” I asked, my eyes pleading with her as I held my breath, waiting for her answer.
She closed her eyes, then opened them, her gaze strong and sure.
“Yes, I will.”
Chapter Six ~ Bronagh
It had been a few days since I told Brendan that I was willing to give us a shot, and we were taking it slow.
He’d kept his promise. During school hours, he treated me just as he did any other professor, and I treated him like the student he was. I was thrilled to find out that he was actually very gifted in the kitchen, and was a dream to teach. It made it even harder not to give him preferential treatment, but I was doing my best not to.
I’d picked up a lot of evening shifts, since my da was still on his trip, and our night manager’s daughter had gotten sick, so Brendan and I had mostly been communicating through text.
Tonight, we were finally going to spend some time together, and although I was really excited, I was pretty nervous as well. We hadn’t been intimate since that first night, and I was worried that some of the shine had worn off. I was sure it was just my own insecurities, especially as I stood off to the side of the crowded dance floor, watching the young, hot, scantily clothed girls rush the stage and beg Brendan to touch them.
It was surreal, and more than a little discomforting.
Sure, I’d been here and seen him play, but that was before I knew him … before we were dating. I was beginning to feel like a jealous girlfriend, and I didn’t like the feeling one bit.
With Maxime, I’d never realized I had a reason to be jealous. I’d trusted him one hundred percent, and I’d been a complete fool.
With Brendan, I knew he’d slept with probably hundreds of women, and, shit, even I’d hooked up with him after one of these shows. When faced with the reality of the buffet of women he had available to him at any given time, I was finding it hard to believe he wanted to be with me.
I’d been keeping an eye out for anyone who might be from the school. The bar was far enough away that I was confident that no one that we knew would be there, but I figured a little caution couldn’t hurt. I took a sip o
f my beer, turned my attention from the fans, and looked back at the stage.
He was magnificent. Not just his voice, which was great, but his presence. It was like he’d been born to be on stage. His eyes were closed as he sang, and I felt a tug of desire deep in my belly. Suddenly, he opened them, and his gaze locked on me, causing that tug to become a full-out punch, and I began to feel overwhelmingly needy.
Brendan smiled a cocky grin, as if he could tell exactly what I was thinking, what I was feeling. I gave him a small smile in return, then averted my eyes, unwilling to give him too much. I was afraid if I did, I’d be consumed.
My gaze fell on his oldest brother, Brock, and my smile remained as I watched the tall, bearded man play his guitar, his face a picture of total peace as he ignored the crown in front of him. My heart warmed as I thought of everything he’d sacrificed to ensure his family stayed together, and how hard it must have been for him to have essentially been a child himself when he’d found himself a surrogate father to his brothers.
Feeling emotion thickening in my throat, I turned my attention from Brock to Brady, the middle brother, who was currently banging away on his drums. He was naturally gifted, but he looked uncomfortable as he played, as if he wished he were anywhere but on that stage.
The song ended, and I found myself jostled even farther to the side as the girls pushed and shoved each other to get closer to the attractive men on stage. The brothers descended the stairs, exchanging hugs and claps on the back, before both Brady and Brock left out the back door, rather than coming out into the throng of people.
Brendan stepped forward, into the bar, and was immediately surrounded by greedy, shouting women.
That ugly seed of jealousy grew, even as I tried to bury it within me, but I watched as Brendan kept as smile on his face for his fans and scanned above their heads, searching for me. When he found me, his grin grew and I heard him say, “I’m glad you enjoyed the show, ladies, but I’m afraid I’ve got a hot date,” as he sauntered right to me.
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