Page 6 of Until Ireland

Landon followed after me. “Famous last words for the Banks clan before falling head over heels.”

Shit. He was right. I’d seen it with my brothers, and I could admit, I’d been a victim of love a time or two. I also had a thing for men who were unattainable—see my ex for details. “I guess I’ll just have to keep my tits in my coveralls, huh?”

The roar of laughter from Landon had me joining him. “Damn right, baby girl.”

Chapter Two

Ireland

I’d spentthe last several hours talking myself out of meeting Mack for dinner. It wasn’t like me to socialize with my clients, but there was something about him. Not only did he ping my bullshit meter, but with one meeting, he’d crawled under my skin a way no one ever had—including Edgar.

Stepping out of my grape-colored Mercury after parking my baby, because no one drove my car—not even a valet, I stared up at the building housing Flame. Even the outside of the restaurant screamed money. Though not flashy, because I didn’t think Mack did brash things, it exuded power and quality. I took a second to fluff the bottom of my vintage 1950’s floral halter swing dress, hoping to tamp down some of the nervous energy squiggling through my stomach.

Some women bought shoes, purses, or even makeup. Not me. Nope. I spent my money on dresses. Retro dresses, to be exact. They were my passion, and my bedroom closet reflected it. The one I was currently wearing had a white background with black trim and big bold black flowers with pops of red blossoms mixed in. My retro clothes tended to draw a lot of attention, and not just from men. More often than not, women stopped me, often asking for the designer’s name and to compliment me. Nine out of ten times they’d ask where they could find clothes like mine. I wasn’t a stingy bitch. If they wanted to explore their fashion sense, well then, call me the fairy godmother of vintage shopping.

Don’t get me wrong, men were equally fascinated, just for other reasons. Often, they thought the way I dressed meant I was easy to get into bed. I wasn’t. Sex without love wasn’t my thing, and my sexual encounters took place within an established relationship.

Which had been all of three.

Don’t get me wrong, a lot could be said about bad boys and their appeal, but I also wasn’t stupid or willing to risk my health for a romp between the sheets. Having three over-protective, all-Alpha brothers came in handy in those situations when a guy couldn’t take the hint. As the only girl, however, they liked to drive me nuts, which could be aggravating as fuck.

News flash, they weren’t always funny.

They also required a lot of energy, and after watching a revolving door of women coming and going from their beds, I’d become cynical to most men’s charms.

Which brought me back to why I was here, at Flame, staring at the entrance like a fool. I still didn’t know why I had accepted Mack’s invite for dinner tonight. I’d convinced myself earlier it had everything to do with how he looked in a suit. The sexy as fuck asshole should be illegal. I suspected he dressed in suits mostly because, for him, it was about projecting the right image and power.

It was effortless.

Under those expensive clothes he wore, I suspected he was rocking a killer body too, hopefully with a bunch of hot tattoos. I’d thought about him a lot in the last twenty-four hours. If my siblings knew, they’d blame it on my attraction to bad boys.

And Mack screamed bad boy. At least to me.

Admit it, Ireland, you want to climb him like a tree, hussy.I pushed aside the wayward thought and crossed the parking lot to the entrance of the restaurant. I knew exactly why I’d gone to such efforts tonight and had shown up at Flame.

Mack Redman.

We had a spark. A connection. I’d felt it when he touched me. My belly had wobbled as if filled with butterflies.

Or maybe it had been the Chinese food I ate for lunch.

Blaming it on food poisoning was a better idea than claiming I was nervous or, dare I say, excited. For some reason, I needed to show Mack I wasn’t always the bitch I acted like during our first meeting.

Okay…I was lying again.

I could totally bethatperson when it was warranted.

I had three brothers, for fuck’s sake.

My reaction to Mack was odd, and quite honestly, I’d never experienced it before. Pitiful as hell to admit, since I’d been a normal twenty-something year old woman, not some virginal bride. Of course, I could take the easy way out and blame him. Mackhadbeen an asshole, after all. He wasn’t the typical guy who caught my attention. I also knew he’d reacted to my insecurities and distracted state, and I hadn’t helped the situation by lashing out at him. Even though I’d sworn off bad boys, I suspected this man could seriously change my mind.

And the prospect scared me.

I needed to stop overanalyzing everything.

Mack had simply asked me out to dinner to apologize for his behavior. He wasn’t looking to start a life-long relationship with a crazy red-headed mechanic who often had grease on her face and under her fingernails—although not tonight, because I’d cleaned my nails and painted them too—with a bitchy attitude to boot.

Taking a deep breath and pressing my hand against my lower belly with the hopes of calming those pesky jitters, I stepped over the threshold of Flame. The cacophony of noise surprised me. Chattered conversations and laughter accompanied the music pumping through the establishment’s sound system. The flutter of butterflies in my belly I’d had since yesterday pulsated and drew me back into my nervous thoughts. Maybe I couldn’t do this after all. Mack had been out of my league. I could say that without admonishing myself for being a Debbie-downer. It was cool. Most days, I could overlook the anxious energy rolling through me, but today, not so much. Since I’d shaken his hand, I swore I could still feel his touch.

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