by Palmer Jones
“Sure. And let me know what they say about your granny's situation.” He slipped his navy tie around his neck and began to tie it. She watched as she did every day. Couldn't help it. He glanced up once, his blue eyes snagging hers for a heartbeat before looking back down.
He reached out and took his suit coat from the back of his chair. And, as she'd done a few times, she stepped closer and straightened his already straight tie. Her hand smoothed the tie. She'd gotten bolder each time. She aimed dozens of signals Brogan's way. This time, she let her hands rest along his waist.
She tilted her head up. His chest rose and fell with a deep breath.
But he never made a move.
All they did was torture themselves.
“Well, this is interesting.” Rian leaned against the door. Didn't knock. Didn't make a sound.
Brogan's work mask slipped over his face as he brushed past her and sat back down at his desk. “It's not interesting at all.” He looked at his computer, flipping back to his email.
Selena stepped away, frustrated. “Don't worry. I'm about to leave so you can work, Mr. O'Keeley.”
Brogan's shoulders inched higher.
“Please, don't leave on my account,” Rian said.
“I have work to do.” She drummed her fingers on the closed laptop case. “I'll find you to get this when I'm leaving.”
Brogan nodded without making eye contact. “Alright.”
She sighed and passed by Rian. He shifted, blocking her way enough that she stopped. He winked. “Nice to see you, Selena.” He held his arms out wide for a hug looking more mischievous than flirtatious. And she thought Cathal was the one up to no good most of the time. She gave him his hug. “Let me know the next time you plan on going out to the bar,” he said.
“Rian—” Brogan grumbled.
He lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “Works every time.” He released her, and she exited the room, feeling the eyes of both men on her back. What had Rian meant? What worked every time? Brogan made her mind a mess each morning when she left. She didn't need to add another Irishman to the confusion.
* * *
Brogan stared at Selena's text.
The insurance company fell through again. I have another meeting in 30 days. This sucks.
Figuring out what to do about her confused him more than he needed with the restaurant on the verge of closing.
“Are you with us, Brog?” Rian leaned over to look at his phone. “Ah. I see your mind is occupied.”
Brogan tossed his phone to the low coffee table in front of them. “No. You don't see.” Because they didn't see it his way. Didn't see the responsibility to ensure their future was secure. The fact they were grown men was beside the point. His Ma would expect him to do everything he could to keep the pub open. Keep them together.
Cathal reached forward, a glass of whiskey in his hand, and snagged the phone.
“You don't know the passcode,” Brogan muttered. A second later, Cathal held up the phone, open to Selena's text. “Remind me to change it.”
Cathal smiled as his finger swiped across the screen of Brogan's phone. “You need a lesson on how to text a woman.”
“She's an employee.”
“Who is upset, obviously. Go over there. Comfort her.”
Rian sipped his Guinness. “You like her. Anyone that's seen the two of you together lately knows that. You're trying to hide it, I know, but you're doing a pretty crappy job of it.”
Brogan reached for his beer. Her earlier text had pushed him into having one for a change. “Fine. I'll admit it. I do like her.”
“No shit,” Cathal murmured.
“Spending each morning with her has solidified that I like her more than just the fact she's a pretty face. But it doesn't matter. I'm not crossing that line.” His voice rose as if he needed his own conviction coming from his lips to actually control his body. Because it seemed like no matter what he told himself, it all disappeared the minute she came close to him. The way she straightened his tie. He had no idea if his tie was ever crooked and he didn't give a damn.
She wasn't trying to seduce him. He'd had that before with Crissy. Either Selena was a very talented actress, or she was just as nervous about crossing that line as he was. For his own sanity, he'd take that version for the time being.
“Alright. We get it. You're a saint.”
“I'm not a saint.” He hadn't had a saintly thought about Selena in several months.
“You have a lovely woman with golden eyes issue you a freaking invitation to make a move every single day, and you can walk away. She was two inches from being in your arms yesterday. Had her hands on you.”
Cathal held up his drink. “That, dear brother, makes you a saint. We'll hold your canonization later. Back to the main business at hand. The loan. The bank agreed with certain stipulations. They want all three of our personal guarantees.”
No doubt he'd give his guarantee. He'd do anything for the restaurant.
Rian wasn't as quick to answer. “I don't know. Can we find another bank and run it past them?”
Cathal tilted his head forward. “Damn it, man. Just put in or get out of the business.”
Brogan laughed. “That's easy for you to say. Between the three of us, Rian's name is more important. No one cares about the man in the back that does the paperwork or you, whatever the hell it is you do most of the time, but they know Rian O'Keeley. If we don’t make this work and him to be financially linked to a failing business—”
“He's right.” Rian chuckled. “For once in that pretty head of his. I should go in without any reservations. I'll do it. Because I believe in us. In this restaurant.”
Cathal nodded. “Hell, yeah.”
“Then I'm in, too,” Brogan said. “Not sure that any bank would want you once you give them your financial statement. You have more in student loan debt than assets.”
Cathal shrugged. “Georgetown was expensive.”
“Your lifestyle was expensive,” Brogan shot back. “If we're all in, then there's only one more thing to do.” He held out his bottle of beer, the other two men toasting with him. “Here's to O'Keeley's.”
They all drank and set their empties on the coffee table. Rian leaned back, his long, lanky frame taking up a lot of space. “Glad that boring part is over. When are you going to make a move on Selena?”
“I'm not,” Brogan snapped back. “Both of you, just drop it.” The constant reminders didn't help the situation.
“No.” Cathal leaned forward. “You've never found a woman like this. You look different when you're with her.”
“Maybe it's just lust?”
Both his brothers looked at each other before Rian rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Lust, eh? No. You look far too unhappy for it to be just lust.” He paused, always for effect. “You like her—really like the woman behind all that hair.”
“And eyes. Those eyes get me,” Cathal added.
Brogan growled. He felt it. Heard it. Didn't care that both his brothers smiled wider.
“There he is.” Cathal rubbed his hands together. “You need this, Brogan. Keep it low key. There's no reason you can't move on Selena and not let it interfere with your work. She doesn't seem like the type to try and sleep her way to the top. She's not Crissy.”
“No.”
“To which part?”
Brogan took a deep breath. “She's not the type. I keep trying to put her in that light, and it's not fair to her. I know it.” And, damn, he wanted to kiss her. Just once, give in to his urge to touch her without the fear that something bad would happen. He wanted to be selfish. Do something without thinking of the business first. Without thinking of what was best for his brothers.
And now, those same brothers, the ones who he'd walk away from Selena for, were pushing him straight into her arms. If anything bad happened now, it'd be on all of them.
Rian patted Brogan on the back. “Then go get her. It's a miracle the woman is still interested in you at this point;
you are so hot and cold with her. I honestly thought the two of us were the last people on the earth that would put up with your moody ass, but for some reason, there she is. Fire her if you need to.”
“That's been suggested before. I don't want to fire her. She's incredible at her job in the dining room. She's taking on helping with the advertising in the mornings. She's really good at that, too. I never thought I'd end up wanting someone to share the load with running this place, but she and I fit together.”
“Fire her,” Cathal said, a smile already brightening his face. “Then hire her back in the morning.”
“I'm not sleeping with her. No matter what.” He snapped out, more for himself than for Cathal.
“Your call.” Cathal rose and pointed at Brogan's cell phone. “That fact remains that your woman needs someone tonight. If she's having to take care of her granny that way and was dealt a low blow, then she's sad.” He looked at his watch. “It's eight thirty. Plenty of time for you to swing by the store, pick up some wine, and take it over to her.”
“And you're the person that knows what I should do?”
Rian nodded. “Between the three of us, Cathal is definitely the best one for advice on women. He can lure them in and toss them back like he’s fishing for sea bass.”
“True.” But getting past his own rules seemed impossible. He'd known Selena for almost seven months, closely for two weeks. She was beautiful and sweet. Funny. One night. One kiss. She wasn't Crissy. He'd prove that to himself.
8
It'd been a while since he'd made a fool of himself. Brogan knocked lightly on Selena's apartment door and waited. He scanned the dark parking lot. He'd lived in Atlanta long enough to know there were worse places, shady areas of the town it wasn't safe to venture into after dark. The hair on the back of his arms stood up. Selena lived here. It was a step higher than a dump, really. Unsafe. He hated it.
He knocked again. Would she actually answer?
“Who is it? I'll call the cops.”
“Please don't.” He readjusted his grip on the wine as he heard several deadbolts and chains unlatching down the door. Her confused face appeared.
“Hi.” Lame opening, but he already doubted his sensibility for showing up unannounced.
And to do what?
He held up the wine. “Your text sounded like you might need some cheering up.”
She nodded, her eyes wide as she stepped back into her apartment.
“Is it alright I came over?” The insecurity rolling through his body didn't sit well. Only Selena made him feel that way. He couldn't separate it between the fear of rejection or the fear of making a big mistake when it came to trusting her—trusting his instinct. He would let down his guard, something he rarely did. He acknowledged that. But he had the wall built around him, keeping employees on one side, for a reason—a very sensible reason.
“Yes. Absolutely.” She smiled, and his muscles relaxed. “Sorry. I would never have thought you'd come over.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “And so late. You strike me as an early to bed, early to rise guy.”
“I am.” He scanned the small, cramped apartment. It wasn't dirty. Boxes of adult items, he guessed for her granny, were stacked in the corner. Selena's sneakers, the ones she wore when she worked, were underneath the coffee table.
Along with her flip flops. A few blankets and a pile of towels sat in one chair. And nothing matched. The furniture was old, maybe thirty or forty years.
“Did you bring that for me?” She tapped on the bottle.
“Yes. For us.” He searched her face. No make-up. No pretense.
“The kitchen is over here.” She turned and led the way. “I didn't think you drank. At least, I don't remember ever seeing you drink when your brothers do.”
He set the wine on the counter. “I don't. Typically.” He didn't like to lose control of himself. Enough embarrassing mornings after getting scuttered had developed the habit of only one or two drinks occasionally. But he needed one if he was going to keep pushing forward with Selena. He wanted to relax. Enjoy the moment.
She passed him a wine opener and pulled two glasses from the cabinets.
“Tell me about the insurance company,” he said.
“Nothing to tell, really. They'll put her in a general care facility—a nursing home. But she needs more than that. I'm trying to get them to cover the cost of a different facility, but they keep saying she doesn't qualify, and they won't pay. So then I took her back to the doctor. He tried another medication.” She made a circle in the air with her finger. “And the merry-go-round starts all over again. And I hate it when she changes meds. This one seemed to disorient her all over again, but it was just the first dose. That may change as her body adjusts.”
“I'm sorry. I know that's frustrating.” He poured them both a glass.
She stood there, waiting.
And he didn't know what to do. Should they stay in the kitchen and sit at the table? That's what a friend would do. Is that what she needed right then? A friend?
He ran a hand over his hair and looked around the kitchen. Worn furniture like the living room. He didn't expect a high class, chrome kitchen judging by the outside of the apartment complex, but he wished she had something a little better. He swallowed a sip of the wine as his next thought rammed into him. He wished he could give her better.
She smirked. “Would you like to go into the living room and sit down?”
“Sure.” Good. He'd let her take the lead on this. He didn't want to have misread her signals. He took a sip of the wine as he sat down beside her, hating Crissy had screwed up his ability to sit next to a beautiful woman and not feel like he was still in grade school. Selena wasn't Crissy.
But if they did give in, and kissed, what happens tomorrow? They'd have to keep it a secret. He'd just fired those two employees for their supply room antics. He drank his wine, hardly tasting it, and thought about the moment with Selena in the same room. He might need to take that door off the hinges. Supply rooms were trouble for him, too.
Selena sipped her wine, watching him over the rim. He set his wine on the table and folded his hands in his lap. “I'm not sure this is a good idea.” He could always leave. They hadn't crossed any line.
“Why did you come here?”
“I'm not sure.”
She leaned forward and sat her wine glass beside his. “Can I be honest with you?”
He chuckled, releasing a little bit of his nervous energy. “Are you not usually?” No other employee talked to him the way she did.
“I hold quite a lot back, actually.” She pursed her lips together. He'd give anything to know what thought ran through her mind. After a moment, she set her hand on his thigh.
His strong reaction to her confused the hell out of him. It wasn't something easy or simple between them. She was complicated in every way possible. With his job. With her granny. But right then, that disappeared.
“When we were in the supply room, and you held me if I'd kissed you, would you have kissed me back?”
He let go of his pride for a millisecond. “Yes.” And then Katie would have discovered them. “But you work for me. I...this....” He couldn't even get it out.
She shifted closer. His saving grace was the hesitancy he saw in her eyes—the small amount of insecurity about pushing things forward so similar to his relieved him.
Could he really blame her? He found stupid reasons to touch her when they were alone and then pushed her as far away as possible.
“So our job, that's the only thing that's bothering you?”
“What else would it be?”
She looked away for a moment, and he wished he knew what thoughts ran through her head.
“Brogan.” She said his name and then sighed. Slowly, she reached up and skimmed her fingertips along the edge of his jaw. “I want to kiss you.” Her eyes dropped to his lips. “And I'll make the first move, so you have no doubt that I want this as much as you do.” Her bottom lip trembled slightl
y before she caught it with her teeth. “At least I hope that you do.”
She leaned closer.
He did stop her, with a hand on her shoulder. “Selena.” When he got his first taste of her, it wouldn't be with trepidation in her eyes. He'd bear the weight of it for both of them. He wanted this, and he'd make sure she knew it. “You're fired.”
She blinked and started to pull away. “What?”
Then he kissed her, his lips taking away whatever question she started to ask. His hand slipped from her shoulder, along the slender curve of her neck and into her hair.
He tried to stay in control, but the heat kept slipping through with each little moan or movement she made to get closer.
Her hand gripped his wrist as if she had to hold on. The sweet wine on her tongue gave him a buzz, his head spinning with the effect.
Why had he even questioned this? The world clicked together. And that had never happened before. Not with any other woman. A first kiss shouldn't have this much power. Or significance.
“Mama?”
The word broke them apart. Selena closed her eyes a brief second before standing up from the sofa. There, her granny stood, in her faded nightgown looking disoriented. Her white hair stuck out at an odd angle, and she braced herself up on the wall.
“Give me a second, Brogan.” Selena turned her granny around and helped her back to the room adjacent from them.
Selena’s reality slammed into him. She didn't need this complication in her life. He wasn't a good bet, not being her boss. He could never give her anything more than this, secret meetings, only to treat her “normal” during the day. That would be torture. A distraction from his responsibilities to his brothers and their business. Unfair to her.
He rose and pulled his keys from his pocket. He'd wait until she came out, but then he'd leave before he messed their relationship up further.
It was hard as hell to walk away from that feeling of perfection.
* * *
