12
FÁILTE
PATRICK
Patrick was smilingat something one of the customers said and pulling a fresh draft when awareness ghosted over his skin.
It wasn't anything he could have explained. Just a feeling.
He looked up, searching for the source and found Morgan Sullivan standing just inside the door, her eyes fixed on him.
He set the frosted mug in front of the waiting customer without looking and put both hands on the bar.
Her dark hair caught the soft golden light, highlighting waves of auburn as it fell over her shoulders and deepening the warm glow of her skin. Even from this distance, her green eyes stood out.
Her slow blink was deliberate.I’m here, it said.Now what?
He couldn’t have stopped the slow smile curling his lips if he tried.
“What can I get you?” he said, when she reached him.
She looked at the bar for a moment, then at the bottles lined behind it on the glass shelves.
“Jameson,” she said. “On the rocks.”
His grin grew as he reached for the bottle without comment. Pulled a rocks glass, added several cubes of ice, and poured without conscious thought. He was too busy internally celebrating her arrival.
“Nice place,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“Who is Jake?”
“My uncle.”
“Ah. Family business.”
“One of them.” He held her gaze. “I’m glad you came.”
“Don't make it weird,” she said, and took a sip of the Jameson.
He laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
Riley appeared at his elbow approximately ninety seconds later, which was about eighty seconds longer than Patrick had expected her to hold out.
She moved in next to Patrick, nudging him out of the way, running off an order of half a dozen drinks for a table in the lounge. Then she zeroed in on Morgan, her violet eyes bright with curiosity and interest.
“Welcome to Jake’s,” Riley said, pouring herself a glass of water from the pitcher behind the bar. “First time?”
“In here? Yes. In a bar, no.”
Riley grinned. “So what brings you to town… uh, sorry, what’s your name?”
Patrick kept his expression neutral. He knew exactly what Riley was doing. He counted down silently, curious to see how Morgan would respond.
Morgan’s lips quirked, as if she knew what Riley was doing too. “Morgan. And I’m visiting my grandfather.”
“Nice. My grandfather owns this place. I’m Riley.”