Page 5 of Naughty Irish Fate
“Impossible. No... no it never ever....” I glance between Rooker and the coin, shocked enough I have no words.
Been flipping that coin and getting my way with it for longer than I can remember. Literally never goes against me like this. I almost feel betrayed. By an old gold coin. And yet, I can’t bite back the huge smile that twists my mouth.
I am sure I look like a complete fool. But I smile up at Rook as he gives a tug at my hand again. I nod and shove the coin in my pocket, reluctantly detangling our hands. As I make the drinks he requested, I realize during our coin toss the entire place emptied out.
Just the two of us remain in the Pub. I glance out of the foggy glass of the doors, seeing the closed sign flipped. Soft country still plays in the quiet. Just the bar lights and the twinkle lights winding down the pillars in the room still glow.
“Just us Wyn. Come tell me a few stories.” Glancing away from his pretty eyes and sexy smile, I round the bar to join him.
Taking a deep breath, I take a seat beside him and slide him his drink. We face each other and I realize how big he really is. Tall and wide, thick and solid. Reaching out, he hooks a boot around my stool and tugs me closer.
Rooker eyes me as he keeps tugging at my stool until my knees are touching his stool. We are so close we are touching and I can barely breathe. His big thighs are open with my knees tucked between them. Hooking his boots on the rungs of my stool, he dips his head to catch my eyes.
“We don’t need to talk. Getting you right here works for me, Wyn.” His hand drops to my thigh. I jump a little as his hand on my bare skin scorches me it’s so hot.
My eyes flutter as his rough fingertips shove gently at the apron still tied around my waist. Again, I jump as his other hand reaches out, touching my jaw. Tipping it up, he forces me to meet his gaze. Those eyes survey me with something sparking behind them. Something I have never seen light another man’s eyes while they focused on me.
“You are absolutely beautiful. Took me all night to work up the courage to come up to your bar, Bronwyn. I never took my eyes off you once I walked in here tonight.” I swallow hard and reach for the drink beside his.
I take a long drink, needing the courage. His fingers still draw patterns at my thigh. The hand at my neck shoves my short red hair away from my face, fingertips tangling in the ends gently. When I set the drink down, I clear my throat and sit just a little closer to him.
“The coin.” I direct us back to a safe topic and he smiles brightly, giving a nod before his thumb swipes at my cheek.
“Tell me about your coin, Wyn. Got all night for your stories.” He winks at me and then I start to talk.
My coin. Twirling it in my fingers I explain its story.
How Paps gave it to me after my mother’s funeral. Explained to me how important it was to our family. And it started with him meeting Grams. How he had it on him for every important moment in his life.
When they got married it was tucked into his suit pocket. With him for the birth of both of his children. After losing my mother and my uncle—mother to a broken heart and the sea, and my uncle Owen to just the sea—he thought it had lost its luck.
“Until, he said, he brought me home for good. He said after that he thought maybe I brought luck back to the coin for him. Good things happened for all of us after that. When he got sick, he gave it to me. Didn’t want me to think it had lost its luck the way he had. Said I just needed to listen harder to fate. See the good in the bad.” As I told my tale it seemed I shifted closer and closer to Rooker.
By the end of the story, my knees are tucked tight between his thighs. Both his hands are on me. One passing light touches up and down my bare thighs. The other brushing over my hair, down my neck, never stilling. Leaving me feeling drunker than the whiskeys we had emptied.
“Use it to let fate show you the way, do you, Wyn?” His voice husks that name out close to my ear. I don’t swoon much as I nod.
“Something like that. Never lets me down. Well, before...” I lift my eyes to his and find his gaze locked on me as if fascinated.
“Sitting here with me, telling me your story because fate decided you should is somehow a letdown? You wound me, Wyn.” His breath is sweet and hot against my face as he leans closer. My eyes flutter when his hand shoves up to the back of my neck, tangling in my hair.
“I didn’t mean that, exactly. Why did you want to know that story, Rook?” I shoot back my own nickname and he smiles, fingertips trailing up and down the nape of my neck. Driving me mad.
“Needed a reason to get you talking to me. Your coin presented a perfect opportunity. Saw how you eyed most the men in here. Knew better than to think something like telling you how I couldn’t look away from you the entire night might work. Pretty sure you heard that shit before, yeah?” His thumb drags over my jaw and my eyes close as I nod.
“Heard something similar, yes. You are a crafty fuck, Rooker.” I laugh a little and he chuckles warm and deep.
“Do what I can, Wyn. It is true though. You are stunning. All I could think of all night was walking out of this pub tonight and never knowing your name. Couldn’t do that to myself. I’d never let myself live it down.” Looking up at him, I wait for him to ask for more. To do what all the others before him have tried to talk me into.
Just one night. Who could it hurt, right? Just a few hours of one night if I was lucky enough. Two people doing what people do. No harm, no foul. Except there was always harm, wasn’t there?
“Got your story. Was that as far as your plan went, Rook?” Moving slowly he invades my space until we’re breathing the same air.
I press against his chest. Warm and snug like I had a spot waiting for me right there all night long. My thighs shake as his thicker ones close tighter around me, caging me in. His hand is in my hair again, tipping my head back. Taking my hand with his other hand, he lifts it to his shoulder to draw me closer still.
“Like this song, even though it's been on repeat all night I think. Dance with me, Wyn?” Staring up into his eyes, I nod once but I don’t want to move.
But I do when he lifts me against him. Rooker towers over me, my chin reaching the middle of his wide chest. I don’t wait for an invitation. I lie my head there as I lift as high as my heels will let me. I wind my arms around his thick shoulders. Slide my fingers into his short sandy hair, moving with him slightly.
