Page 16 of Until Ireland

As I stood to stretch, I glanced at the time and frowned. It was already late, and I hadn’t eaten yet. Breakfast was a staple for me, but when Ireland turned me down, I grabbed a second cup of coffee and finished getting ready. My stomach gave a vicious growl, reminding me I hadn’t so much as scarfed a bagel while at my desk. Sighing, I headed down to the kitchen. We had enough supplies to get us through the rest of the week, so I wasn’t worried about using what was there. As I got to the bottom step, I spotted a familiar face.

“What the hell are you doing here, stranger?” I said, greeting Gareth. “I thought I told you the bet was on after I confirmed the shoddy work of Banks Automotive.”

Gareth chuckled. “Heard from Hunter you left the car. He said you made an ass of yourself.” He shook my hand.

“His assessment is correct,” I said. “I was about to order some lunch, want some?”

“Sure, I could eat.” He followed me toward the kitchen where I put my order in with the chef. We had about an hour or so before the rush would begin. Most were late lunches, but some were early dinners before the younger scene came around to enjoy the nightly atmosphere.

“So, how are things going?” I led him over to the same table I shared with Ireland. It was easier there. I could see the comings and goings while watching my staff. One wrong move, and I could reprimand on the spot or fire them like I did to Oscar the night before. Just thinking about him and what he did to Ireland pissed me the fuck off.

“They’re good.” Gareth folded his scarred hands on the table. He’d busted his knuckles or cut himself more times than I could count when it came to working on vehicles. He had what my grandfather would call working man’s hands. Callused and gnarled. Chewed up and spit out. “You?”

“Can’t complain, and if I could, no one would feel sorry for me.” I grinned. I had two businesses that were steady moneymakers, family, and friends. I had no right to feel down about a damn thing, especially after meeting Ireland.

“So, what’s your take on Banks Automotive?” He said his thanks when one of the afternoon staff brough over a couple of beers and our lunch.

“I was impressed when I arrived. The place is clean, though a bit out of the way and in a shittier part of town.” I shrugged, tucking into the paella “I liked the fact they didn’t leave old engines on the ground.”

Gareth groaned. “If I had a dollar for every time I saw that shit.”

“Me and you both.” I chuckled. “The ‘Cuda in the bay helped ease my mind a little too. So did the Olds I caught a glimpse of on my way out.”

“What about Ireland?” Gareth hedged.

“What about her?” I sat back. I knew they’d give me shit. I’d done the same to them along with some good-natured ribbing. It was a rite of passage. Wes, Jax, and Gareth had all found their Boom. Then they cursed me and said I’d be next. I thought they were joking. Oh, how wrong I was. However, I wasn’t going to make this easy on any of them.

“Well... Do you like her?”

I laughed, leaning back in my chair. “You’re not very good at this. Did Wes and Jax send you to check in with me?

“My ears are ringing. How about yours?” Jax sat down on Gareth’s left side while Wes took the chair to my right.

“Definitely ringing. What’s this about theBoom?” Wes tilted his head to the side, his light-green eyes boring into me. Wes was my best friend and the leader of our MC, theBroken Eagles.

“I didn’t say shit about it,” I muttered. “Gareth brought Ireland up.”

“Oh, she’s the chick with the new garage that only caters to customs and classics.” Jax grinned. “So, is she the one?”

These fucking assholes. They were lucky they were my best friends or else, I’d kick all of them out of my restaurant. I swallowed down the irrational anger and tried to keep my tone even when I spoke. “I’m not discussing my personal life with you guys while we’re in my place of business.” I took a sip of my beer and glanced at each of them. Obviously based on the glints of laughter in their eyes, I hadn’t succeeded. “Drop the subject.”

“Oh, no. See, this is too much fun. I want to hear all the details.” Wes propped his arm on the table and plopped his chin in his hand. “Did she pop your cherry?”

I flipped him off while laughing. “You’re an asshole.” I was by no means a blushing virgin. I had more pussy than I cared to think about, but none of those other women ever compared to Ireland and none of them ever would. “Can’t I take a raincheck on this torment?”

“So, what’s she like?” Jax looked between Gareth and me. “I haven’t seen her yet, only her brothers. Is she hot? Big tits? Nice ass?”

“Watch how you talk about her,” I snapped, and I knew then I done fucked up. They had theinthey were looking for, and now they were going to use it against me.Someone shoot me and put me out of my misery.

“When’s the wedding? I want to be the flower girl,” Wes chirped.

That started another round of full body laughs at the table. I swear to God they were dicks when it came to this shit. They couldn’t just be happy for me. No, they had to try to embarrass me to death about my love life. They teased me relentlessly about Ireland. About how good being in love—not that I’d said I was out loud—looked on me. I laughed with them, not angry at all. These assholes were my friends, through and through. They’d do whatever they could to help me out and they understood I’d do the same.

We were family.

“Seriously though,” Jax said, wiping the corner of his eye from laughing too much, “We’re happy for you.”

“Thanks.” I inclined my chin. “Doesn’t mean I’m saying shit about her.”

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