“Every last crumb,” the waitress said, balancing the serving tray on one hand and pulling dishes with the other.
Rachel rubbed her hands together with glee. This was the Irish experience she wanted. Fish and chips paired with a well-built Guinness on a Dublin Saturday night. “There’s enough here to feed half a dozen people!”
Isaac grinned, that rare grin that came from somewhere he didn’t realize he guarded so heavily. “You look like you’re prepping to eat every last bite.”
“I’m going to put a hurting on this basket. Don’t doubt me.” She took a bite of her fried fish fillet and nearly groaned with pleasure. “Oh, man, this is good.”
Isaac leaned forward and dragged his thumb across her bottom lip. “You had a little something right there.”
Rachel almost choked. Again. She hadn’t been the only one to change direction without warning. Isaac’s touch had been purely sensual. Almost carnal. As if he had been flirting with undisguised intent, and Isaac didn’t strike her as one to flirt. At all. Confused, she down set her fork and picked up her beer, focused on taking a drink to buy herself time to respond.
Isaac chose that moment to pick up his fork and stab a bite of fish. He saluted her with it before taking the bite, his eyes closing in bliss. “This really is excellent.”
“As good as the restaurant you wanted to go to tonight?”
He opened his eyes and looked at her, the solemnity of his gaze a weight she didn’t fully understand. “Better.”
That one word, his acknowledgment, freed a part of her she hadn’t known was still chainedby insecurity, a part of her that would stand her ground but still wanted his approval. Unsure what to say that wouldn’t make her sound like a blathering idiot, Rachel elected to fork up another bite of fish and chew slowly. She wouldn’t talk with her mouth full, but she did smile. And he smiled back.
Who knew she’d find safety in good manners.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ISAACWASOFFCENTER.Proof?
He.
Had.
Danced.
And he’d enjoyed himself. Immensely.
That hadn’t been part of the plan. Not that there’d been much of a plan to start with, inviting an essential stranger to Europe for the weekend. This was a prime example of why he lived a structured, preplanned, well-thought-out life. Surprises didn’t suit him one bit. This whole thing—the woman, the trip, dining in a pub, dancing with locals—had been one hell of a surprise.
Not to say he wasn’t rolling with it. He was. Mostly due to the joy that seemed to bleed from Rachel’s pores and saturate anyone within a three-block radius. The woman wasalive. Truly living. In the relatively short time they’d spent in the pub, Isaac had wondered for a brief moment what it might be like to be that free, what his life might have been had Mike not died under his watch. He had a snapshot of who he might have been, and it was sobering. Enough so that he’d handed off Rachel to a local man and walked off the dance floor.
She hadn’t followed.
Part of him had wanted her solace and was irritated she didn’t seek him out.
Part of him had been proud of her for holding on to the person she’d clearly been working so hard to become. Or, more aptly, reclaim.
From his corner booth, he’d watched Rachel twirl around the floor, watched her attempt a step dance similar toRiverdanceand laugh wildly when she got tripped up. Had envied her the freedom she displayed as she kicked off her shoes and tried again. Publicly. And failed. Again. All while laughing aloud at her best effort that just hadn’t quite been good enough.
She’d moved in time with the music as she made her way to his table. More than once she’d kindly passed on an offer to dance or to have another round courtesy of a local. By the time she’d made it to Isaac, she’d spoken to half the bar, and she’d known the names of half the people she’d talked to.
“You want to take another trip around?” she asked.
He considered her, with her hair pinned up in a messy bun, tendrils curling slightly in the pub’s humid warmth, the flush of exertion on her cheeks and the bright light of joy radiating from her eyes.
“I’ll be sore tomorrow, but it will have been worth it.” She grinned even wider. “Did you see me try to step? It was a complete train wreck, but it was fun.” She reached across the table, she took the pint he’d been spinning slowly between his palms and downed half of it. “I’m going to need several bottles of water, too. Badly. The hotel will have it, don’t you think?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He imagined her as she’d been last night, flushed and sweating for a different reason altogether, and his cock roused in his jeans.
As if she could read minds, she slid closer and rested her chin on his shoulder, speaking directly into his ear. “You’ve given me the most amazing weekend.”
“It’s not over.”