Page 9 of Hot Irish Halloween

Yes, keep this short. Keep this light. If he turned out to be a straight-up dud, she’d go home, rub her own clit and then contact the actual Latin Lover for another try at a suitable, less frighteningly hot partner.

“Good. I know a place.”

With a quick lift of his square chin, he indicated the direction they should go. Penny found herself taking a few skips to keep up with his long-legged stride. He seemed to notice because he slowed down. Walking together at a more comfortable pace, they went in silence.

The streets of the city center were packed, a mix of Dubliners out for lunch in their business suits and tourists with “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” T-shirts on. She hid her grin; the Irishman striding alongside her would probably never be caught dead in such a shirt. He didn’t look like most of the locals she’d met, those with the ginger or fair hair or the “Black Irish” Colin Farrell types. She wondered if he was a transplant from somewhere else, even though he did have that sexy, almost musical Dublin accent.

Either way, he wasn’t saying much. When they arrived at their destination, a coffee shop on a quieter street not too far from Trinity College, he held the door open for her. Nodding at thetables, he asked, “Do you want to sit or take these to go? Decent day for a walk.”

He was right about the weather. Rather than the typical overcast autumn sky, what arched above them was a gorgeous, sunny blue. Spun sugar clouds swirled in the distance as though rain might still be a reality later.

“It is nice out. Let’s take them to go.”

Penny stepped up to the counter while the baristas, of all genders, grinned openly at Jack with almost starry-eyed expressions.

“Hello,” Penny said, practically having to wave her hand to draw their attention. “I’d like a small coffee, hot, with whipped cream and a chocolate drizzle. And that chocolate chip muffin, too, please.”

“Name?” Slight, fair-haired, and blue-eyed, the male barista looked so much like Brendan that Penny’s heart momentarily hurt.

“Penny.”

Before she could contemplate reaching for her purse, Jack pushed her gently to the side and stepped up.

“I’ll have my usual,” Jack said when the barista turned to him.

“You’ve got it, Mr. Valentine,” the blonde boy said with a big grin.

“Mr. Valentine?” Penny repeated quietly as Jack pressed his card to the reader at the cash register. They stood to the side of the counter to wait for their coffees. “I thought you said your name was Jack Carr.”

“Bio father is a Carr. Valentine is the man who married my mother. He adopted me. And you’re Penny Mayfield.”

Jack placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her out of the way when a boisterous couple with nasally New York City accents pushed their way to the counter. She would have given her fellow New Yorkers a dirty look, but she was toobusy melting at the casual yet protective gesture, at the way his splayed fingers and his palm pressed heat into her skin even through the jacket and her thin sweater.

He didn’t take his hand away, even when they were safely in the corner. The absent-minded brushing of his thumb up and down in that one spot made her weak-kneed. The barista thankfully called their names before the fluttering in her tummy could turn into a full-on butterfly battle royale.

Butterflies were a new experience for her. She wasn’t sure if she appreciated what they were doing to her insides.

Heads turned as Jack retrieved their drinks, and they passed through the small crowd of waiting customers. Some men called out, “Oi, Lucky Jack!” Others whispered to their companions, their eyes moving between Jack and herself. Popular guy. She wondered how he had so many admirers since it seemed he hardly spoke.

Then a thought struck her. “How did you know my full name?”

Was it possible he recognized her from the ancient days when she sang in front of an audience? Thorny Rose hadn’t been super famous, but she did still run into old fans occasionally.

Jack averted his eyes, now more like the deeper brown from the photo when he turned away from the sunlight outside. “You’re Penny Mayfield of Thorny Rose. I wasn’t sure if it was you on the app, but I thought it could be. You’re a singer and a musician. A good one.”

That was the most he’d said so far. It was a plus that it was a compliment. Penny’s face warmed with pleasure.

“I was, a long time ago. You’re a folk, country, or trad fan,” she surmised. “Nice.”

“My father plays the fiddle at the local pub some nights.”

He held the door open for her again, and they left. She took an experimental sip of her coffee through the tiny built-in spout.“Oh, this is good. Thanks for the introduction to a new place for coffee.”

Jack grunted and took a sip from his own cup. He’d gotten a no-frills black with no sugar and zero baked goods. With his level of fitness, that made sense. He seemed like the type who worked out every day and never indulged in anything that made life worth living. She took the lid off her drink and swiped up a dollop of the whipped cream and chocolate with her tongue. So satisfying. She savored the melting goodness with a smile until she caught his stare.

A muscle tensed in his jaw, and his eyes went hooded as he looked at her mouth and then away. She didn’t know what to make of that look, except he seemed annoyed. Was he one of those fitness freaks who was judgmental about every little thing a woman ate and drank? Jade had dated a guy like that, and it had pissed Penny off so badly listening to his constant passive-aggressive digs at her cousin when they’d gone out to eat together. If Jack hated women who ate, oh well. She’d enjoy the coffee and the treat he’d paid for with gusto.

In silence, they strolled toward Trinity College and passed the gate onto the grounds. Most people were headed inside for tours of the beautiful old buildings, especially the library housing the famous Book of Kells. She’d already seen it a few times. Penny hoped Jack’s intention was to stay outside as he’d said. Days with weather like this were to be prized and taken advantage of.

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