Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Every now and then I’d sneak a glance at the sweet bartender. At some point, he’d shoved up the long sleeves of the sweater, revealing the slender muscles of his forearms. His skin was peppered with a few freckles there too, and I noticed his hands gripping the bar towel tight enough to turn his knuckles white.
There was a small window open behind the bar letting some fresh air in. The slight breeze ruffled the reddish waves around Charlie’s ears and shirt collar, catching my attention and making my fingers itch. I’d never seen hair that color. It was like a mix of all the different shades I’d ever seen on another redhead. Strawberry-blond streaks mixed in with deeper auburn hues and even some carrot-orange bits. I wondered if it was so varied because he spent much of his time outside.
“See something you like?” Charlie asked with a raised eyebrow.
I felt a lump form in my throat at being caught out, and my mouth opened before I had a chance to stop it. “Your hair is really, uh, nice. Different.”
Oh my god, I did not just compliment the man on his hair.
My face ignited with humiliation, and I worked desperately to keep from gasping at my own inappropriateness.
“Um, sorry,” I stammered. “I only meant… that, ah… I’ve never met someone with… Oh, hey, do all Irish people really have red hair? Ha. Um, and I found a four-leaf clover. So, that’s a thing that happened. Weird, right?”
Oh my god. Kill me now.
Charlie turned to stare at me. “Are you feeling okay?”
Shit. Fuck. Damn.
“Maybe I’m a little jet-lagged. I think it’s going to be an early night for me. It’s late my time, I think.” I scrambled for any excuse.
His lips turned up. “Let’s see… it’s ten in the evening here, which means it’s the afternoon in the States.”
Oh. Well.
I looked down at my beer and took a few more sips. No justifiable reason for why I was being weird.
“I liked the coddle,” I said out of the blue a few minutes later. Charlie was pulling a pint for another customer, but just as he looked up to answer me with a grin, I felt someone slide onto the seat next to mine. Charlie’s grin quickly died.
“I like to cuddle too,” the woman said with a chuckle. “Are we listing things we like in bed?”
I turned to her in confusion. We were at a historic inn in rural Ireland. It was about the least likely place for a random pickup as I could imagine outside of maybe a cathedral.
The woman was younger than I was by about ten years and had similar red hair and freckles to the bartender. I flicked my eyes back to Charlie to take another look.
For comparison purposes only.
Charlie narrowed his eyes at the woman before wrinkling his forehead in confusion. “Cait, what are you doing?”
“Can’t a girl meet a nice man in a pub?” the woman asked.
“You’re dating Donny. Plus, you already know this man,” Charlie growled. Something about the tone of his voice made my stomach clench with nerves.
The woman, Cait, looked back at him. “No I don’t. How would I know him?”
“Because you sent him here,” Charlie said.
I realized I’d had three too many beers when I couldn’t make out the hidden meaning in their exchange. And I sure as hell couldn’t remember ever meeting the woman next to me.
I risked a glance back at Charlie and felt a low whimper in my throat. That’s it. It was time for me to go to bed. I was there for work, not… whatever this was.
Instead of getting up, I took another long sip of beer from the never-ending pint.
Cait looked between Charlie and me before humming, as if she was trying to decide something. “Yes. Yes I did. You two have a great… night,” she said before patting me on the back and leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Go for it. I hear the man sucks dick like a Hoover.”
Beer shot out of my nose and all over the bar top. The young woman laughed as she walked out of the pub. I scrambled for some napkins and flashed an embarrassed apology at the bartender.
“So sorry,” I stammered. “So, so sorry.”
His grin was cute as hell. “What did my sister say to you?”
I choked again and squeaked. “Sister? Your sister? That woman was your sister?”
Charlie’s laugh surrounded me like the warm air of a mild summer evening, familiar and comfortable, buzzing with possibility. I wanted to hear more.
“Yes, she’s my sister. Judging from your response, I’d say whatever she whispered was extremely inappropriate.” Another chuckle.
“You have a wonderful laugh,” I said on a sigh.
Oh fuck.
“And I need to go to bed,” I added quickly. “Check please.”
He looked at me funny before turning to the register to prepare my tab. He seemed to pause for a moment, and then he returned to the spot across from me. “On the house. Don’t worry about it.”