Page 8 of Her Irish Boss

Not touch him.

Not skim the tip of her finger along the edge of his collar against his smooth skin.

And, judging by the mask that fell over his beautiful face again, he didn't appreciate it.

She stepped back. “Sorry. I know you wouldn't want to go out there with a crooked tie.”

“No, I wouldn't.” His expression didn't match that husky, sexy quality that'd slipped into his voice. Maybe she'd imagined it. Sophisticated men like Brogan never looked twice at women like her. Or if they did, it was for a fling. Nothing serious.

Jacob had dated her longer than what she'd describe as a fling, but it didn't change anything in the end. He wanted someone who could make the rounds at his fancy parties. Host dinners for other uppity men and women. And when he discovered she wasn't the “right” woman, he'd hid her away.

“Then let's go to work.” She turned on her heel andmarched out ahead of him, swinging close to the break room door long enough to throw her tank top in the general direction of her locker. Neatness be damned. She had a job to do while there was still an O'Keeley's open.

“Do you normally throw your clothes around?” He'd waited for her in the hallway, the expression from before a little less severe.

She smiled over her shoulder as they headed out into the main dining room, already partially full, from the downtown lunchtime crowd. “I do when I strip for my boss.” That was another mark against her dating someone like Brogan or Jacob. Her sarcasm was hardly tolerated. Or appreciated.

But Brogan didn't chastise her.

He grinned.

And she about tripped over her own feet.

“Go to work, Selena,” he said, a definite edge of laughter in his beautiful voice.

Risking even more mortification. “You, too—” she winked “—Brogan.”

3

Two miles in the pool should have cooled off his body. Eased his mind. Settled the swirling deep in his gut that hadn't stopped. But with each flip-turn in the water, some part of Selena popped into his mind. Her eyes. That damn wink. The way she'd skimmed her jeans down her hips.

He pushed harder until his watch buzzed an hour later.

She was due at the restaurant in forty-five minutes, so he'd head straight into work from the gym. They'd renovated the office, giving him his private changing area as well as a separate area for the employees. His space included a shower.

Maybe, after a shower and putting on his suit, his control would return. Usually, his two-hours of morning exercise gave him a chance to work through problems. One big problem staring him down at the moment was what to do about his restaurant and the offer to buy the property.

Three million dollars. He didn't have the collateral to get that type of loan without more time and planning. He and his brothers worked hard to be successful since leavingIreland fifteen years ago—from a small goat farm and fighting at the local pub to running a business. They all had their parts to play.

Right now, Cathal was in charge of all the legal business concerning the purchase of the property. Somehow, Georgetown had given the man a damned law degree. His brother was smart. Stupid smart. The kind of intelligence that made you cringe when he showed up scuttered every other night hitting on anything in a skirt.

Opposite from Rian. Although, Rian was an odd one himself. Quiet. A genius in the kitchen. He'd spend his time traveling the world, cooking for famous people or showing off his skills at culinary festivals rather than put down solid roots.

Brogan dried off and pulled on his t-shirt and a dry pair of gym shorts. Both his brothers had their ghosts that they ran from. He knew that. It didn't make it any easier when he was trying to keep their restaurant running.

His ghosts arose each time he had to look, touch, smell Selena, and then walk away. A hot shower and shave would put him into the frame of mind he needed to deal with the day.

To handle Selena.

After the first harassment lawsuit and payout, he never looked twice at an employee. Never crossed a line. Wouldn't. Even if his mind and his eyes always drifted back to Selena. He preached it enough to his employees. Lenny almost had a date with Brogan's fist had he not looked so shaken from the encounter and backed off.

But he didn't blame the boy. Selena was gorgeous, in a messy way. He believed organization led to success, so being late and unprepared almost every day would drive himinsane. That was a good enough reason for him to stay away from her.

So, why in the hell had he told her to show up early? That put them together, alone, at least thirty minutes before the cooks arrived. They were both responsible adults. He'd make sure to keep everything professional and keep his distance. Then she couldn't accuse him of anything.

He walked the few blocks to the office from the gym, unlocking the door, and disarming the beeping alarm panel. This was what he needed. A big reminder as to where to focus his mind. O'Keeley's.

“Good morning!”

---