“Oh, my goodness, not at all. I really did have an emergency.”
“That’s a relief.” He stepped closer.
Unconsciously, she took a half step back. He was broad shouldered, rugged, and handsome. She could recognize this because she wasn’t dead, but it did nothing more than make her smile. “I did want to come and talk to you. I know things between us have been moving in the direction of something more serious. But that’s going to stop now because I’m with Enzo.”
“When did this happen?”
“Last night.”
“And you think it’ll stick?” he asked, stepping closer.
She countered with a move until her back hit the wall. His arms rested on either side of her head. Her mouth went dry, and her heart rate increased. She’d never seen a hint of this side from him. “What are you doing, Keir?”
“Showing you why you’re making a mistake. I saw the way he let you down a few months ago. You were heart broken. Do you want to chance that a second time?”
“Things between us are complicated, Keir.”
“And they aren’t between us because we work,” he said. His brown eyes stared a hole into her.
“Don’t do this. You’re a good friend. I don’t want to lose you.”
“For everything you say, there’s not ring on your finger. That means I still have a chance.”
She placed her hands on his chest and gave him a gentle push. “No, you haven’t.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”
“There’s no convincing necessary. We have a bond, I’ll admit it. But we come from the same place and have tons in common.”
“I know you in a way he never can.”
She frowned. “And how’s that, Keir?”
“You think you’re the only one whose father was aligned with the IRA?”
The words made her blood run cold. “Why are you talking about this?”
“Because it’s important to remember where you come from, and who helped shape you.”
Suddenly uneasy, she squirmed her way out of his body blockade. “That was the past, and I was a child.”
“Things have a way of following you,” he said.
The haunted expression on his face made her stomach turn. Did the IRA send him? The air left her lungs, and she stumbled from the shop. What could they possibly want with Mom and me? I shouldn’t read too much into the words of a wounded man. Pride was a dangerous thing; when threatened, a man could lash out as good as any catty female. RIP to that friendship.
PAST
“My girl, there are few things more dangerous than a man whose pride has been wounded,” her father said.
“Why’s that, Da?” she asked, watching as he replaced a paper target.
“Because we like to dominate and control. You’ve got a smart mouth like your father. Which is why we’re out here once a week making sure your aim is true. When you get old enough, my love, you are going to break hearts. And if I’m not there to break their faces, and put my boot up their ass when they need it ... you need to be able to take care of yourself.”
She smiled, unsure of what he saw when he looked at her. Certainly not the same image she saw in the mirror. At fifteen, she was all bones, with no arse or breasts to speak of. She looked more like a bloke than a bird and the boys didn’t let her forget it. She’d grown up with them and now, she seemed perpetually stuck in the ‘one of the guys’ zone.
“Aibhlinn.” His tone was terse.
She focused her attention on him.