Page 50 of Cillian

“Yes ma’am,” ignoring how close she was to me and that it was obvious she was trying to make me aware of her neckline and bust.

“So, you one of them foreigners or are you American?”

Taking another swig from my mug, I sat it on the table in front. “I’m Irish.”

“Well Mr. Ireland. You got any brothers as fine as you?” Bellamy instantly came to mind, but he didn’t like them that thin. Hell, after Queenie, I wasn’t sure I did either. Laughing, I answered, “I’ve got three.”

Taking the length of my tie, she spun it around her hand to pull me closer. “They married?”

“My husband and I are actually on a night out,” Queenie interrupted. “My baby works a lot, so this is the first time in a while we’ve had one. Maybe you can get my number from my Mama at church and we could talk then. But for now, we’re just trying to have a good time.”

A cocksure grin spread across my face. I had never seen Queenie get jealous before. Even though I kinda liked it, she didn’t need to worry. None of the women in this room had anything on her.

“Guess I’ll let you enjoy your night, then. Goodbye cutie Cillian.” Aiming a seductive smile at me before she got swallowed by the crowd.

“She seemed nice.”

Queenie faked a smile. “If by nice you mean a fruitless gossip or a hussy trying to steal your man right in front of you,” she fired back.

“Were you jealous?”

“No, I wasn't jealous.” I took another sip of my mug.

“You’re quite cute when you’re jealous,” I teased. “But she ain’t the one to be jealous about. All I want, all I need, all I desire, is all in you,” I playfully clipped her cheek. She rolled her eyes unamused.

“Maybe I was jealous. But it didn’t help that you were smiling like a minstrel act and letting her flirt with you right in front of me.”

“C’mon baby. I thought she was your mate. I didn’t want to be rude.”

“Well, she wasn’t. Just a girl from the past trying to get under my skin,” she said, swirling her glass, irritation stacked against her sweet features.

“This man over here bothering you? Because you look like you could use a drink.” As a man sat down next to Queenie, heating my blood to a boil.

“Saw a beautiful girl like you and I just couldn’t resist?—”

“Well you’re gonna have to. I know you see me sitting here. That’s my wife you’re chatting up,” I challenged, fully prepared to stand my ground.

To my surprise, he went the opposite of how I thought he’d react. “My apologies, sir. I ain’t mean no disrespect.” Downing the beer he’d came with, he reached out to shake my hand, leaving me even more confused.

“Your wife’s a beautiful woman. You’re lucky to have a Mrs. as pretty as that. You two enjoy your evening,” he said taking his beer and left.

“Now look who’s being jealous,” Queenie teased.

“Difference between us is, I never said I wasn’t. Wasn’t expecting him to be so respectful about it.” Taking a few gulps of beer. “But he was right.”

“About what?”

“You do look really beautiful. And I am lucky to have you as my Mrs.” I ended in a smile. She rolled her eyes again, this time more playful than annoyed.

“Well, if I look so beautiful, why haven't you asked me to dance yet?” She flirted.

My answer was humiliating. “Because I can't, Queenie.” She pouted, my stomach tying in knots at her disappointment.

“Why not?”

“Because…” I hesitated. “Because I don't want to embarrass you. I don't know how to with this kind of music and I don't want to go out there and have people bloody laughing at me.”

Her eyes widened in shock as she brought her mug up to her heart shaped lips. “But at home that's all we listen to.”

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