Page 17 of Wild Irish

“Fuck the band. Unless ye’re ready to get rid of Owen, I’m done.”

Aiden shakes his head. “Ye know that’s not going to happen. But if ye’d just listen to him–”

“I already heard his lies.” I open the door and practically barrel right into Delaney. I have to grab her by the waist to stop her from falling.

She lets out a small squeal, her fingers fisting in my shirt.

We stand there like that for a moment, her staring up at me with those big, expressive eyes, and my own breathing rough and uneven.

“Where were ye?” I growl, making her eyes widen even more. I drop my hands from her waist and take a small step back, unable to control my body’s reaction to touching her.

She watches me warily, biting her lower lip as her gaze flickers down my chest, resting for a moment on the bulge between my legs. I see her swallow hard, then quickly draw her gaze away, cheeks turning a shade of scarlet.

“I-I was just looking around. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Aiden clears his throat behind me.

I turn around, glaring at him when he raises an eyebrow.

Aiden ignores me, turning his gaze to her. “And ye are?”

“Delaney.”

“And how do ye know our boy, here?”

“I–”

“She banged up her car. I’m letting her stay here until she gets it fixed.”

Aiden’s eyes widen slightly, and a grin tugs at his lips. “Ah, so yer the one who hit Davie’s fence.”

“My tire blew–”

I grunt. “Ye were driving in the middle of the road.”

“I was fine until you came speeding around the corner.” Her arms cross over her chest and she purses her lips.

Aiden chuckles, and I give him another pointed glare.

“Well, if ye’re going to be here for a couple days, you should join us at O’Donoghue’s Pub tonight. We’re going to be celebrating.”

“Celebrating?” I shove my hands in my pockets and lean against the door.

“Emer didn’t tell ye?” His face brightens the way it always does when he talks about her. “I asked her to marry me.”

“Shit.” A sense of loss slices through me, but I immediately push it away. “I thought Emer was smarter than that.”

Aiden grunts, his gaze focusing on Delaney. “So ye’ll come tonight? Let us show ye a bit of Irish hospitality.”

She shrugs. “I’ve got to cross number eight off eventually.”

Aiden raises an eyebrow in curiosity, but I know what she means.

“Drink a Guinness in an Irish pub,” I mutter.

“You memorized it?” Her mouth hangs open, and red starts to creep up her neck, infusing her cheeks.

Aiden’s palm smacks down on my shoulder. “Good, so I’ll see ye both there around nine.”

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