In Too Deep

Chloe was sittingat the bar by eight o’clock. Since it was a Sunday night, the Rose was slow, so she took off a little early and was already working on her second beer. When the door to Last Shot opened, she turned to see if it was Brendan. It was so much better. And so much worse. Brendan and Ronan strode in and it was like watching a movie in slow motion. Other heads turned because the Doyle boys—no, men—drew attention. Tall and broad, scruffy and sexy. And they walked with a cocky confidence like they belonged anywhere they stepped.

Both men’s gazes landed on her and she immediately felt warm. She tried to convince herself it was the alcohol, but even she wouldn’t buy that lie.

When they stepped close, Ronan’s deep, rumbly voice sent a shiver down her spine. “Chloe.”

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“When I passed on your message, he insisted on joining us,” Brendan said.

“Don’t see why. We already did our catching up.” She waved the bartender over. “Three more.” She reached for her purse, but Brendan put his hand on hers.

“I got this round. Why don’t you guys get a table?”

Grabbing her half-empty bottle, she slid off the barstool and brushed against Ronan as she walked to the tables in the back. Was that a grunt she received in response? She slid into a booth and waited to see if Ronan would sit beside her or across from her. She glanced up at him as she took a pull on her beer.

He sighed and then sat next to her.

“Put on your big boy pants tonight, did you?”

“Why do you keep pushing me?”

“Because it’s fun. I’ve had a rough day and you interrupted my evening with your brother.”

“What made today rough?”

She’d expected him to balk at her talking about Brendan, so she was thrown for a minute that he’d asked about her day. Remembering her argument with her mother, she just shook her head. “Nothing important.”

“I told you to stay away from the Cahills and eavesdropping on their conversations.”

“I can’t stay away from them. They’re part of my job. When I’m there, I’m like their personal waitress because Alan is good friends with the owner.” She drained her bottle as Brendan set the three fresh beers on the table.

“Did I miss anything interesting?” he asked.

“Nope. Just your brother trying to boss me around.”

“I’m not trying to boss you around. It’s for your own good.”

She snorted. “I get to decide what’s good for me.”

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your spunkiness,” Brendan said. “What is he getting bossy about?”

“I told her to stop listening in on the Cahills’ conversations.”

“And I pointed out that taking care of them is my job. If I happen to overhear something, so be it. And I’m telling you, Alan Cahill is out to get you. Did you piss in his Cheerios or something?”

Ronan opened his mouth, but Brendan raised a hand. Instead of saying anything, Ronan took a drink of beer.

“What makes you say that?” Brendan asked.

Chloe watched as Ronan’s lips wrapped on the bottle. She wanted to feel those lips again. “Alan was mad that Danny had given you an off-book job. Especially that job.”

“Did he say anything else?” Brendan said.

“Yep.” She stared at Ronan. “He said a few interesting things about Ronan.”

She shifted in the booth to sit at an angle. She drank from her bottle and waited for Ronan to give her his attention. The muscle in his jaw ticked, causing a ripple in his beard.

“Are you going to share?” he asked without looking at her.

“Didn’t your mother teach you it’s rude to avoid eye contact when you’re talking to someone?” she pushed.

He swung his head to face her, and she suddenly regretted forcing his attention. His eyes bore into her, hot and intense.

She licked her lips. He tracked the movement. Then did the same. Her breath fluttered. She swallowed hard.

“Alan said he thought you were there to dig. That you wanted answers. He was mad and told Danny that he wouldn’t let him ruin everything he built. Something about then and now.”

Brendan’s muttered, “Fuck” pulled her attention from Ronan’s face.

“What is all this about?”

“Nothing,” Ronan said.

“What’s Alan’s problem with you?”

“Don’t know.”

“Bullshit. I think I deserve honesty. I brought you the information.”

He leaned closer, looking menacing, but she wasn’t afraid of him. “I told you to back off.”

“Ronan,” Brendan said quietly. “Ronan.”