Page 52 of Wedding Crasher

‘Undertakers need long faces. It’s part of our job description.’

‘I know that’s a lie, Gabriel, because your dad had the biggest smile in Ireland.’

Gabe couldn’t argue with that one. Dan had spent several summers in Ireland in and out of Gabe’s family’s funeral parlour when they were students. He’d grown close to all of the family, his warm, goodhearted father in particular, owing to a shared love of bar-room jokes and thick, creamy-headed Guinness. Gabe took a swig of beer to help loosen the sudden tightening in his throat.

‘Let’s go into town, man.’ Dan shoved his chair back with a pointed glance around the quiet pub. ‘It’s crawling with bars full of birds. You need to touch some flesh that isn’t stone cold.’

Gabe sighed loudly, but drained his glass anyway. This thing with Marla was doing his head in. Maybe some distance from the village and its headaches would be welcome. He craved the boozy forgotten nights, to be twenty-two again and not give a damn about tomorrow, or work, or about the red-headed girl who was driving him slowly crazy with need. Marla was thoroughly infuriating, not to mention someone else’s girlfriend.

Which left him with, to coin one of Dan’s choice phrases, ‘two-fifths of fuck all’ and the guarantee of a headache in the morning. He grabbed his jacket and ducked outside towards the taxi Dan had flagged down.

Gabe looked around the busy town square. It was thronged with brightly lit bars and glossy-haired girls in heels they couldn’t walk in.

‘Where we headed?’

Dan managed to drag his eyes away from an impressive lycra-encased cleavage of a passing girl to glance down at the flyer she had thrust into his hand. He stuffed it into his pocket and clapped Gabe on the back with a grin.

‘I’ve just had a fuckin’ stormin’ idea, mate.’

Gabe grimaced. He knew that tone of old, and it usually meant Dan was a few hours away from his next walk of shame. He had no time to consider his options though, because Dan yanked him sideways into a black doorway and up some narrow wooden stairs.

Five minutes later, he found himself installed in a red, velvet booth with a cold bottle of Budweiser and a half-naked blonde thrusting her G-string-clad bottom at him from a nearby pole.

‘A strip joint. Really?’

Dan winked and chinked his bottle against Gabe’s, clearly pleased with himself. ‘So. What’s your poison tonight, my friend?’ He inclined his head towards the woman wrapped around the pole. ‘Blonde?’

Gabe took a slug of beer and looked away.

‘Not blonde. Okaaay … how about a classic brunette?’

Gabe followed Dan’s gaze across to the main stage, where men were shoving bank notes of encouragement into the silver thong of an exotic-looking girl as she peeled down the straps of her bra. He took it all in, feeling detached and grubby. He’d been in strip joints several times over the years; enough times to know it wasn’t his scene.

‘A nice little redhead, then? You seem to have developed quite a soft spot for them lately.’

Dan slid his sly eyes from Gabe’s with a grin and nodded towards a girl at the bar with wild red curls and barely there black lace underwear.

Gabe drained his bottle and reached behind him for his jacket.

‘I’m gonna shoot through. This isn’t for me tonight, mate.’

Dan pouted and punched him on the shoulder. ‘Lighten up, man. It’s just a bit of fun.’

He winked at the blonde, who licked her lips and held a hand out to him in reply. Dan shrugged his shoulders with a helpless laugh at Gabe.

‘Wait for me, yeah? I’ll be back in five.’

Gabe sighed in resignation as he watched Dan trail off behind the glistening blonde like an excited puppy with a juicy bone. He traded his empty bottle for a full one from a passing waitress and settled in to wait, trying to avoid the parade of girls vying for his attention.

‘Feelin’ lonely, cowboy?’

Gabe glanced up from the depths of his beer to find the redhead from the bar had slid into the booth alongside him. Her riotous red curls sent a vicious kick of longing into his stomach.

Yeah. He was feeling lonely.

She scooted closer and trailed long, emerald-green nails along his thigh.

‘I can make you feel a whole lot better.’ She batted her false eyelashes and wiggled her cleavage closer to his chest.

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