Friday I'm In Love (Wild Irish, #5)

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Friday I'm In Love (Wild Irish, #5) Page 6

by Mari Carr


  She closed her eyes wearily. “Fine.”

  “Fine?”

  She gave him a laugh, looking at him again and placing her palm against his cheek. “Seems a fair enough exchange. So long as the same deal applies to you.” She looked down at his obvious erection. “Hands off.”

  He wanted to groan at the case of blue balls he was about to spend his night suffering through. “You are a cold, cold woman, Natalie Miller.” He smiled as he spoke and she giggled.

  “I warned you.”

  “So you did. And now I’m giving you a warning of your own. I’m gonna score in this game. I’m gonna score big.”

  She acknowledged the challenge with a wicked look before turning to climb the stairs. The word “maybe” drifted down as she reached the top and he sighed, looking down at his cock.

  “Sorry,” he muttered to the poor appendage. He chuckled as he walked to his own room. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Four

  Monday

  “Come on, babydoll. Rise and shine.”

  Natalie opened her eyes to find Ewan leaning over her bed. “You have a nasty habit of waking me up too early in the morning. What do you say we try to break it? Right now. Before I break your nose.”

  She’d trudged up the stairs to Tristan’s old bedroom after Ewan issued his demand and she’d spent half the night tossing and turning, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing. She’d only been in Baltimore three days and she was practically throwing herself at Ewan every other minute. He claimed their physical interactions were just part of the game they were playing, but she wasn’t so sure. Sometimes when he looked at her…

  Ewan, as usual, ignored her threat and kissed her forehead. Her stomach always did flip-flops whenever he pressed one of his platonic kisses to her face. She loved his little pecks on her nose, her cheeks, her brow, as much as his full-on, open-mouthed, extravaganza-style kisses. “Time is money. I’ve brought your uniform up here. Thought you might want to try it on first.”

  “Uniform?”

  “Well, actually it’s just a Sunday’s Side polo shirt. I brought you a ladies medium. Figured you might need a little extra room to contain the girls.”

  He followed his dirty joke with a quick leer at her breasts and she fought to restrain her laughter. It wouldn’t do to encourage his bad behavior.

  “Although in hindsight, I wouldn’t have minded watching your pretty tits strain against a shirt that was just a bit too small all day either.”

  She held up her hand to ward off any more of his comments. “Okay, number one, ew. And number two, my girls are none of your concern and I suggest you focus your attention of what’s residing above my neckline or you might find yourself with a crotch full of my knee. Got it?”

  His mischievous grin proved he wasn’t about to change his ways.

  She gave him a dirty look. “Why would I want to wear a Sunday’s Side shirt?”

  “All the waitresses wear them with khaki pants.” He suddenly looked concerned. “Do you have khaki pants in your luggage?”

  “I think so, but I’m not a waitress.”

  “You are today,” he replied.

  “Ewan, what the hell are you talking about?”

  He stood up and put his hands on his hips. “It’s today’s lesson.”

  “Waitressing?”

  “No. Attitude adjustment.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “And just whose attitude are we adjusting?”

  “Nat. You were complaining that you didn’t have anyone to celebrate special events with. You keep making those silly comments about being a bitch and not having a lot of friends.”

  “Well, maybe I like being a bitch. I sort of think it’s my one true talent.”

  He ruffled her hair. “I think sometimes you worry about the way people perceive you more than you care to admit. I thought maybe today you could learn how to practice restraint. Besides, it’s Keira’s day off and we’re always busting our asses during the lunch shift.”

  She ignored that he needed her help, changing the subject back to the one that was bothering her most of all. “You think I need to learn restraint?” She sat up, trying to figure out why the idea of Ewan trying to change her personality hurt so badly. She had sort of signed up for this.

  Ewan held up his finger to ward off the pain he must have seen building on her face. “Don’t say a word. Just hear me out. Personally, I fucking love your personality. I think you’re funny as shit and that caustic wit of yours is top-notch. You don’t offend me, you don’t scare me and, truth be told, listening to you eviscerate someone is probably on my list of top five turn-ons. However, you seemed to be concerned that you push people away with your comments and I thought this might be a good way for you to practice thinking before you speak. I thought this was what you wanted.”

  She took a deep breath and tried to formulate a coherent thought. “I sort of stopped listening at I fucking love your personality,” she finally said. “No one’s ever said those words to me.”

  Ewan laughed. “Hard to believe, eh?”

  “Impossible.” She grinned ruefully, wondering how he always managed to make her insides go to mush. She wasn’t a wishy-washy little girl. She was a woman who knew better than to have her head turned by a few well-phrased words. Thing was, Ewan really looked as if he meant what he was saying. “Okay. This sounds like it could be a cool experiment.”

  Ewan stared at her for a moment. “Well, yeah, about that. While it’s an experiment, I’d like to stress that the restaurant is my business and it only succeeds if my customers are happy and want to come back. I’d sort of consider it a personal favor if you—”

  “Wouldn’t speak my mind? Fuck up? Intimidate the patrons until they run screaming from the building?” she finished for him.

  “All of those work for me.”

  “I’ll behave.” She rose from the bed and picked up the forest green shirt he’d brought for her. “We’re gonna have to talk about your waitress uniforms, though.” She wrinkled her nose at the shirt. “These are guy shirts.”

  “I suppose you think I should steal the Hooters idea and put my waitresses in too-tight tank tops? This is a family business, Nat. Plus, I don’t think our regular waitress, Joyce, would go for it. She’s pushing fifty and complains about her sagging breasts constantly.”

  Natalie shook her head. “You talk to your waitress about her tits?”

  “She usually starts the subject. I just listen. I grew up with three very vocal sisters who complained about everything from period cramps and PMS to the underwire in bras. I figure there’s not much about the female body that can shock or embarrass me at this point.”

  She smiled. “In other words, you were raised right.”

  Ewan pulled her over to him with his hands on her waist. “I guess I was. How about a reward system for today’s experiment? You seemed to like that last night.”

  “You know, I’m starting to suspect these so-called rewards are just your way of trying to get into my pants.”

  Ewan laughed. “Is it working?”

  She pressed her finger to her lip and pretended to consider his question. “Maybe.”

  He kissed her quickly. “Get ready. I’ll meet you down in the restaurant. Give you a brief orientation before we open.”

  * * * * *

  Two hours later, Natalie had decided Ewan could take his rewards and shove them up his tight, muscular, gorgeous ass.

  She’d cleaned up two major drink spills, both done by the same little unruly brat whose mother couldn’t control him if he was in a cage. She’d listened to a woman complain for ten minutes about Natalie screwing up her order—which she hadn’t. Fucking bitch couldn’t even remember what she’d asked for. One man snapped over her forgetting to bring his bread, even though any yahoo could see it was lunch hour, the restaurant was packed and she was running around like a chicken with her head cut off.

  Jesus, people were rude. She’d nearly bitten her tongue off seve
ral times and it didn’t look as though things were going to get much better as the afternoon progressed.

  “Excuse me, miss.” Natalie fought against rolling her eyes as the elderly woman at the corner table called her over…again.

  “Yes, ma’am. What can I get for you now?” So far, the lady had beckoned her over for a slice of lemon in her water, more butter for her bread, an extra knife because she dropped hers and more napkins—each time starting some inane, longwinded conversation about the weather or her sister’s cataract surgery.

  “I was wondering about the dessert menu. Do you have one of those?”

  “The desserts are listed on the regular menu.” Which she’d taken back after getting the woman’s lunch order. “I’ll just run and get you one.”

  “Thank you, dear. You’re new here, aren’t you?”

  Natalie nodded, trying to get away before the woman could ask any more questions. She wasn’t so lucky.

  “Are you from Baltimore?”

  Natalie shook her head. “No, I live in Palm Springs. I’m a friend of the Collins family and just helping out with the lunch rush today. I’m actually a photographer.”

  The woman seemed delighted by this new information. “A photographer! Oh, what a wonderful job. Are you one of those National Geographic photographers who travel all over the world taking pictures of nature and naked tribal women?”

  Natalie laughed at the woman’s question, though she could see it was a serious one. “I wish. I just run a regular old studio. Wedding photos and stuff like that.”

  “Nat, you’ve got an order up.” Ewan passed her with a large tray of food. “Riley wanted me to let you know.”

  “I’ll be right back with your dessert menu,” she said to the customer.

  The older woman waved at her and smiled. “Take your time.”

  She passed Ewan, admiring his muscular arms as he wielded the tray loaded with food with ease. She wondered how he could do this job day in and day out. As she grabbed the dessert menu, she watched him place the food in front of the customers—all of whom he seemed to know by name. He made a couple jokes as he gave them their food. It was clear he was a natural with people, but more than that, he really enjoyed talking to them, getting to know them. He’d stopped at every table since the restaurant opened—regardless of how of busy they were—and spoken a few words to each customer. Whether they were regulars or tourists, he found a way to make them all feel welcome.

  Then she considered the way he’d treated her since day one. Friendly, open, kind. In Ewan’s world, there were no strangers, just friends waiting to be made.

  “Nat?” Ewan walked up next to her and she realized he’d caught her lollygagging. “You okay? Need a break?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. You’re really good at this.”

  “At what?”

  “Running this restaurant. Being nice to people.”

  He laughed. “Being nice isn’t exactly a hard thing, babydoll.”

  “Maybe not for you. I’ve been this close,” she held up her thumb and forefinger, “to crushing some of these idiots with my bare hands.”

  “Well, we’ve got about an hour before it tapers off for the afternoon. What do you say we meet in my office at two? You can decompress to me all you want.”

  “I’m warning you now. You’re gonna get an earful.”

  He gave her a peck on the cheek. “I’m really proud of you, Nat. You may not want to know this, but you’re actually sort of a natural at waitressing.”

  “Bite. Your. Tongue.” With that, she walked away before he could see the secret grin his compliment had provoked.

  * * * * *

  An hour later, Ewan gestured to her with a quick jerk of his head and she followed him into this office. It was down a small hallway from the main dining room and across from the kitchen. She could hear the muffled clanging of dishes through the walls even after Ewan shut the door. She turned to face him and fought down the sudden dampness lining her panties as she watched him lock the door.

  “Hit me with your best shot,” he said as he crossed the room toward her. He didn’t stop until he had her backed up against his desk.

  “That loud-mouth woman with the little brat needs classes in parenting.”

  “Agreed.” Then he startled her with a long, deep kiss.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, falling easily into his warm embrace. How did he manage to capture her interest with affection? She wasn’t a kisser, a hugger, a cuddler. She’d never craved these things before Ewan. Now she wanted them more than a cold beer on a hot summer day.

  He broke off the kiss, lightly rubbing his nose against hers. “Anything else?”

  “That obnoxious asshole who bitched about the lack of bread should have been thanking me. More bread was the last thing he needed.”

  “Agreed.” Ewan repeated the line and the kiss and she decided she liked the way he held a bitch session.

  When he pulled away, she realized she was struggling to think of any more complaints. The anger that had been building in her chest most of the day was quickly diminishing.

  “I didn’t mess up that stupid woman’s order. She asked for the special. I swear she did.”

  “I heard her. She did ask for the special.”

  Natalie frowned, confused. “But you told me to take the food back…to get her the hamburger.”

  “It wasn’t worth fighting about. Besides, Mrs. Davis is a regular in here. She mentioned once that she cares for her mother who suffers from Alzheimer’s. Sometimes she’s just tired and grumpy.”

  “Damn,” Natalie muttered. “Now I feel like shit.”

  Ewan laughed. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Nat. You couldn’t have known that. I’m just trying to show you that sometimes you don’t always know what’s going on in another person’s life. That haggard mom is going through a nasty divorce. She’s way too slack with her kid, probably because she feels guilty for her failing marriage.”

  She closed her eyes. “See, I am a bitch.”

  He cupped her cheeks with his palms, pulling her face closer to his. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

  She obeyed, surprised to see his face so close to hers.

  “You are not a bitch. You’re way too hard on yourself. You set these high expectations for yourself and I think you just hold other people to the same standards. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “So what’s the sob story on the bread guy?”

  “Oh, he is just an asshole. You had him pegged right in the first minute.”

  She laughed. “Well, thank the Lord. I’m one for twenty. That older woman, the one who sat in the corner table?”

  Ewan acknowledged he knew who she was talking about with a nod.

  “She was kinda cool. What’s up with her?”

  “Mrs. Duvall. Her husband passed away a couple of years ago and I think she’s lonely. She comes in here twice a week for lunch and she always manages to find a way to call us all over to chat. I usually join her for a bit, but she seemed to prefer your company today.”

  Once she’d returned with the woman’s dessert, she’d been drawn into a conversation that she’d genuinely enjoyed.

  When she thought about it, she’d had more fun these past three days than she’d had in years and she suddenly wasn’t looking forward to returning to Palms Springs. What if she went home and the heavy feelings came back? She wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to her monotonous days, her quiet apartment.

  She tried to shut down her thoughts of leaving on Saturday. The unwelcome notion of leaving Ewan had jarred her more than once over the past few days. Now, like then, she put the nonsense away. He was an acquaintance, Teagan’s brother. Nothing more. She couldn’t let him be anything more.

  For now, she wanted to revel in the newfound lightness. Here in Baltimore she’d managed to find a place where she could relax, put away her worries, her gloominess, her sleepless nights, even if only for a week. She’d use this time
to pick up the pieces and come Saturday, she would go home. She’d be strong again. Ready to roll with the punches.

  “And now,” Ewan said, grasping her hand and tugging her behind the desk with him. “Maybe we could revisit that ‘making out as a form of relaxation’ lesson from last night. I mean, you’ve had a rough afternoon.” He lifted her shirt over her head, pulling it off before she had a moment to realize his intent.

  “Hey. You know, just talking it out…I feel much better now.”

  He frowned. “You do. You sure? I don’t mind going the extra mile if you’re still a little tense.”

 

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