Page 12 of Until Ireland

I held my hand up, feeling relaxed and warm, and shook my head. “No. I think the two bottles were enough, don’t you?” Our waitress had dropped off a second bottle when I drank through most of the first while enjoying my meal.

Pretty sure I was drunk, since I enjoyed most of the second bottle by myself too. Thanks, in part to Mack, who made sure he kept my glass filled anytime it was empty. Any more wine, and I’d be pushing my limits.

As it stood now, I couldn’t drive home, which meant I’d have to contact one of my brothers, get an Uber, or take Mack upon his earlier suggestion. Needless to say, the alcohol was telling me the last idea was looking better and better. When Melissa came back to clear our plates, Mack ordered dessert and coffee for two. I protested the desserts, obviously, but Mack assured me it was fine.

Our busboy returned moments later with our coffee, and even though it’d been late and I’d pay for having caffeine, I drank it. I hoped it would help me sober up some and allow me to walk out of the restaurant without tripping and falling on my face.

The tray contained varying small containers filled with sweet confections that held me entranced.

Mack handed me a spoon. “You okay with sharing them?”

“Are they good? Because if they’re really good, I might just want one all to myself.”

Mack threw back his head and laughed. “Tell you what, once we’re done, you pick your favorite, and I’ll send you home with a bunch of them to keep you satisfied for days.” The deep sensual tone of his voice had me shifting my thighs to ease the growing ache between them.

I picked up the first container, featuring a round dessert filled with chocolate and caramel. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Mack tilted his head, watching me. His gaze fell to my mouth as I licked the spoon clean. “Men should always be pleasant with the women they’re attempting to woo, Ireland. If that’s not the case, cupcake, you’ve been dating the wrong men.”

He wasn’t not wrong. After a single meal with Mack, it became clear my previous boyfriends—not like I had dated a lot—never made an effort like Mack. A lot of it, I’m sure, had to do with Mack’s age. At thirty-seven, he was established, knew what he wanted, and how to obtain it.

The doubts I had earlier came rushing back. There was a twelve-year age difference between us. Why would he want to date a girl when he could date a woman?

“What’s wrong?” Mack asked, apparently sensing my wayward thoughts.

Not wanting to dive into my lack of confidence when it came to dating, I lied. “Nothing. The wine is kicking in, and it’s oddly quiet now.”

“Bar closed about twenty minutes ago, and the restaurant is getting ready to shut down for the night. My staff is busy escorting the stragglers out and starting their clean up duties so they can leave for the night.” Mack stood. “If you give me a minute, I’ll arrange for you to get home tonight.”

I nodded, leaning back in my chair and watching him walk through the almost empty restaurant. My gaze landed on his ass, and I sighed.Like a ripe peach.I wanted to bite the firm, round globes then lick away the sting. His stride commanded attention from those around him, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t experience a little thrill because of that power. He stopped when he caught Melissa coming out from the serving station, and I watched in amazement as the owner of the restaurant tipped both her and the busboy who came out after her.

When Mack returned to the table, he wrapped his hand around my elbow to steady me, and I stood and gasped. Knowing my window of opportunity might be shutting, I blurted. “If your offer to drive my car back to your place is still open, I’d like to take you up on it.”

This close, I watched the reality of what I’d said dawn on him. His gray eyes flickered with desire, assuring me that what I’d been feeling all night wasn’t one-sided.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he murmured across the shell of my ear. “If you’re okay with it, we can stay in my apartment upstairs.”

I gasped, surprised he lived where he worked. “Not what I was expecting you to say.”

He chuckled, and the sound shot down my spine settling low in my belly. “I’ve got to keep you on your toes, cupcake. So, would you like to come upstairs with me?”

Who was I to say no?

Chapter Three

Mack

I didn’t takeadvantage of Ireland when we stepped into my apartment. Lord knows I wanted her. She caused my dick to ache, and the scent of her perfume made my head spin. However, when she stepped into my apartment after dinner, instead of taking advantage of her tipsy state, I was a gentleman. I guided her to the guest bedroom then brought her a pair of sweats and a shirt.

I enjoyed the evening with her, and the idea of Ireland being in my apartment over the restaurant settled something inside me while also turning me on. She was an effortless beauty. Her gasps and sighs with each bite of food or sip of wine shot straight to my groin, leaving me harder than a rock. Her giggles and laughs were balms to my frazzled nerves, especially after the little show Oscar put on at the bar. I was ready to mark my territory, but pissing on Ireland’s leg in front of an employee—ex or not—wouldn’t go over well, especially since I’d been an asshole at the garage.

While she changed, I grabbed her a bottle of water and a couple of pain pills. I knew in the morning she’d be feeling all the wine she drank. Seeing her laugh and enjoy herself—allowing me a glimpse of the woman she’d hidden from the world—thrilled me. I didn’t want to share that part of her with anyone else. The possessive side of me wanted to keep her hidden. I didn’t care if she had a job or the garage to tend to, she was mine.

Ireland stumbled out of the guest bathroom and yawned. Brilliant colored tattoos covered her arms and what I could see of her chest. I wondered how low they went. She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met, and I’d met too many to count. Some were simple hearts while others were intricate geometric shapes or words. I wanted to study each of them, trace them with my tongue and commit them to memory. Her rockabilly style, along with her vibrant red hair and gorgeous green eyes, mesmerized me from the start, but this look, seeing her relaxed in nothing but my sweats and shirt? Shit, my tongue was wagging for her.

“I’m going to bed. I think I drank too much.” Her husky tone shot straight to my groin. “Thank you for this.”

I stood near the kitchen, glass of scotch in hand. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. If I went to her now, I’d never be able to walk away, so I kept my distance. “Good night, Ireland. Pleasant dreams.”

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