Page 4 of My Irish Roommate

What the hell? I won’t let anyone talk like that about her, not even her own mother.

“She’s in excellent shape. I expect that it takes more calories to maintain a beautiful figure like hers. People who lack the energy and motivation to push the fitness boundaries don’t seem to understand that. They choose the unhealthy path and starve themselves to be skinny instead. That’s why it’s so impossible to maintain their weight. You should come by the gym sometime, Emma. I can create a plan for you.” Emma places her hands on her stomach and looks down at her feet, but Ricki grins from ear to ear and that’s exactly the reaction that I’m hoping for.

My father quickly changes the subject. “So, Ricki, what are your plans now that you’re here? Will you be looking for work in the city?”

“Of course, she will,” her mother answers for her. “That’s why she’s living with Rowan and not with us. There’s more opportunity for her in the city than out in the countryside. Maybe she’ll get lucky and find a nice rich boy and settle down. There’s more opportunity for that in the city, too.”

“Then we can have grandchildren. Lord knows I’ve given up on Rowan in that area,” my father chuckles.

The thought of her coming home with some drip in a suit and tie doesn’t sit well with me. I hadn’t considered the possibility of her being with anyone but me.

“You’ve never been married?” Ricki asks, drawing me back from my dark thoughts.

“No, I was on the road too much for that type of thing, and when I was home, I was in the gym twelve hours a day,” I reply.

“That kind of dedication is amazing. You should be very proud of yourself,” Ricki smiles.

There’s a strange moment of tension at the table, and I look at my father who appears oblivious as usual. Emma, however, seems completely engrossed in the dynamic between her daughter and me.

“So, how are you two getting along?” she asks.

“We just met two hours ago, Emma. So far, we’re doing fine,” I don’t like where this conversation is going.

The waitress arrives with our food. For a moment, I think I might get a break from the uncomfortable chatter but Emma just can’t help herself.

“Has Ricki told you why she’s here?” she asks.

I swallow the mouthful of appetizers and check for Ricki’s reaction to the question. Again, she’s clearly uncomfortable so I try to shut the conversation down.

“We’ve had a discussion about her situation. I don’t think we need to revisit it now. Let’s just have a nice dinner and not dwell on the past,” I reply, hoping she’ll eventually take the hint.

“Rowan is right, darling. This is a time to celebrate. Our family is together for the first time.” My father’s agreement is just his way of avoiding conflict, but it helps to shut Emma down.

I nearly leap from my seat when I feel Ricki squeeze my thigh. I look at her and she mouths the words, “Thank you.”

Without waiting for a reply, she goes back to her food, not even aware of the sudden swell in my jeans. I try to block the mental image of her running that hand upward until it rests on my manhood, so without thinking twice, I spear a red chili pepper and shove it into my mouth.

That sudden fire in my tongue is enough to quell my arousal. Thank fuck.

We finish our meal with very little small talk, and I consume more wine than I should. I thought the alcohol would settle my nerves, but it just loosens me up and makes me more likely to speak my mind. When the waitress comes back to offer coffee and dessert, I implement my exit strategy.

“This has been nice but I have an early class tomorrow so I need to call it a night. I’m sure Ricki is jet-lagged as well. Thanks for dinner,” I ramble.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive, son?” my father asks.

I look at Ricki, “Do you know how to operate a vehicle?”

“Yes, but not on the wrong side of the road,” she answers with a small smile.

“It works the same way,” I answer and look at my dad, “See? Ricki can drive us. We’ll be fine.”

We say our goodbyes and head back to my place. Ricki asks, “Did you enjoy dinner?”

“The food was excellent,” I answer.

“And the company?” she continues.

“It was bloody terrible,” I guess the wine has made me too honest.

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