Page 11 of Until Ireland

“More like love,” I admitted.

“Enough to remove the remaining strikes you’re keeping a tally of?” Fuck, he was slick. He gaze locked on me, holding me ensnared. My heart tripped a beat, and my breath hitched. The tingle of awareness sparking between us excited me. Each twitch of his lips or the way he continued to assess me had me curious what would happen next.

Two could play this game.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. If my mom could see me now, she would most likely smack me upside my head for doing it. “Since I believe in total honesty, how you dealt with Oscar wiped your slate clear.” I raised my glass. “And having the pleasure of enjoying this delectable treat just gave you bonus points to boot.”

“How many?”

I smiled over my glass, enjoying the easy conversation. “Like a lot.”

“I can live with that.” He graced me a sexy grin that caused my heart to beat faster. I nibbled on my lower lip, smothering the groan I could feel building in my throat. He continued, “Now, do me a favor and eat one of those rolls you’ve been eyeing since the busboy left them on the table.”

I narrow my eyes at him in warning. He was charming and bossy. He didn’t ask me to eat—he told me. It took me a second or two to come to terms with his demand. I refused to kowtow to others. With my glass curled toward my chest, I plucked a still-warm roll from the basket. A spicy smirk tugged at his lips, as though he’d won something. What, I wasn’t sure, but I found myself wanting to see it more.

“These better be just as good as the wine,” I warned before sinking my teeth into the surprisingly sweet and buttery-filled carb. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus.” I literally groaned like a hussy in heat. The fucking thing melted in my mouth. How bread melted, I wasn’t sure, but this roll did.

I wanted more.

“Did I just gain a couple more bonus points?” he asked before sinking his teeth into his own.

“Oh yeah,” I said after I polished the moist goodness off. “If these are any indication of how the meal is going to taste, I think you’re golden.”

“I was an asshole yesterday,” he admitted out of nowhere, and I nodded in agreement. “I liked that you called me on it.”

“Are you always like the cocky bastard I met?” I prodded, swirling my wine around in my glass. I had a feeling most people didn’t disagree with Mack.

He sighed. “I’d like to say what happened was a fluke, but I’d be lying. My sisters, both of them younger, by the way, have informed me I’ve got asshole tendencies. Even more so when it comes to my businesses.” I could tell already that I’d like his sisters. It reminded me of the relationship between me and my brothers. “Without offering an excuse as to why I acted the way I did, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for my behavior.”

“It wasn’t all you,” I confessed, ready to clear my conscience with my apology. “I wasn’t very welcoming either or nice…” Mack didn’t disagree with me. I also liked that too. In a relationship, that honesty was sexy.

Melissa returned with our meals a short time later. She placed each of our plates in front of us then made a hasty getaway.

Mack picked up his fork and knife first. “Eat, and when you’re all done, you can tell me if I ever have to worry about your three-strike rule ever again.”

I grinned at him. “Cocky?”

“Or I’m just confident in my chief’s abilities,” he said before tucking into his meal.

I could see it was cooked to perfection. He wasn’t lying about his chief’s capabilities.

My food appeared amazing. The shrimp were roasted to perfection and seasoned to excellence. The first bite was nirvana, and the second, orgasmic. I knew I must’ve made several unladylike noises, but Mack didn’t say shit. When I was done eating everything, I laid my fork and knife parallel across my plate. I’d be remiss if I didn’t try to wrangle the recipe from Mack, considering my youngest brother was going to culinary school.

“Any chance in hell,” I said dipping the last glass of wine toward my plate, “I could get the recipe for my meal?”

Suddenly, I’d become jealous of the napkin Mack used to wipe his mouth and hands once he’d finished eating. The white fabric tugged across his bottom lip, gathering up the glistening juice from the last bit of his steak. The action shouldn’t have been erotic, but I couldn’t help the yearning to lean across the table and lick the remains clean. A flash of arousal spiked in my system, dampening my panties. I’d said it once and I’d say it again, Mack Redman was danger personified. “It can be arranged as long as you tell me why, since I’m pretty sure you already have an in with the owner and can get the dish whenever you get a craving for it.”

“Jackson, my youngest brother, is currently going to culinary school.”

Mack drained the last of the wine from his glass. “Have him stop by tomorrow, and we’ll talk.”

“I wasn’t looking for a job for him.”

Mack gave me a warm look of appreciation. “I know you weren’t. Restaurant kitchens are notorious for a high turnover, so we’re always looking for young talent, willing to put in the time to learn.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” I replied, making no promises. Jackson had always seemed content to help at the garage while he finished school, but it might’ve just been because he’d never found the right restaurant to apprentice at.

Mack glanced at my now empty glass. “Want me to order another bottle?”

---