But Toby’s fingers were flying across his smart-phone screen and he mumbled something about alerting the media. For what...I had no idea. He looked up for a second, distracted, ‘You should change into one of the staff T-shirts now, shift starts in ten minutes. You’ll find a size that fits you in the store cupboard in the changing room. See you back up here.’
* * *
Liam was still trying to curb the anger he’d felt when Toby had shown him their Facebook status update a short while before, along with a picture of their newest employee: Come meet the new bar girl! She’s gen-u-ine Irish! And he’d also put out a tweet calling people to come and be served by the #irishhottie.
And so far, #irishhottie did seem to be bringing in the punters, if the heaving crowd of mainly men was anything to go by just hours into her first shift. Toby passed him with a bucket of ice and smirked, his expression saying see?
Liam scowled. From the moment he’d turned away from Caitlin in the street earlier, he’d been cursing himself for offering her a trial. He’d done it before he’d even registered the words in his head. He could remember the violent tug of rejection in his gut when she’d backed away as if to leave.
He assured himself now that she wouldn’t be able to hack it and then he could tell her in all conscience that he didn’t think it would work out.
But...his eyes were drawn to where she was leaning over the bar now, on tiptoe, trying to hear someone’s order over the crowd. She was dressed in a black Sullivan’s V-necked top that hugged her breasts and torso in a way that seemed almost pornographic, when it never had on any other female employee.
Her hair was up in a ponytail, and the way it swung to and fro only made Liam’s hands itch to yank it back and tip her face up to his.
Something sank inside him. She was a pro. Taking orders, smiling, chatting and delivering change all without missing a beat and with only the most rudimentary of introductions to their system by Toby.
Dammit.
Just then Candy appeared from the staff room ready to leave. She stood beside him taking in the view and then said mournfully, ‘If I didn’t think you’d shoot me dead on the spot, I’d like to take a bite out of that peachy butt.’
Liam gritted his jaw and shifted to ease the pressure in his jeans. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
He heard a snort of derisive laughter. ‘Oh, please. We go way too far back for you to pretend that I haven’t noticed your look of pain ever since #irishhottie arrived for work. Walking around with a permanent hard-on must be a bitch.’ Then she murmured, ‘But for what it’s worth, I don’t blame you, I definitely would.’
Liam glared at the woman he’d known since kindergarten, but she just blew a kiss at him and shimmied out of the bar. Stifling the urge to walk out behind her and get on his bike and ride as far away from here as possible, he finally slammed back into his office and tried to focus on spreadsheets rather than images of #irishhottie’s ass, and dark thoughts of bending her over his desk so that he could spank that bare ass for blasting every rational thought in his head to pieces from the moment he’d seen her.
Chapter Six
I was ready to throttle Liam Sullivan. I’d worked my arse off for the past four nights trying to create a good impression, and his almost permanent glower in my direction was beginning to seriously piss me off.
Now that I knew about Toby’s shameless advertising of me, I was happily hamming up the whole #irishhottie thing, but I drew the line at painting a green shamrock on my
cheek. Or on my breast where the V of the T-shirt dipped, much to his disappointment.
Liam didn’t speak, he barked at me. It had grown progressively worse over the last four nights. I felt like barking back at him, or throwing my Sullivan’s T-shirt down on the floor and telling him where he could stick his job. But I wouldn’t cave.
Tension coiled like a live wire between us, almost tangible. Not to mention the very annoying fact that my clitoris still seemed to be magically linked to his presence, going on and off like a fecking beacon alerting me to his whereabouts at all times.
Toby was off tonight, and for the first time Liam was behind the bar with me full-time. My nerves were raw and ragged. I felt achy and jittery. Aroused and very sexually frustrated. It didn’t help that I noticed how the women seemed to congregate wherever Liam was serving, moving en masse if he moved.
It was galling to know I wasn’t much better, my gaze devouring his form whenever I thought he wouldn’t catch me. Invariably drawn to the healthy bulge in his jeans. Crap. Since I’d met this man I’d turned into a woman obsessed.
A customer was looking for attention at the bar and I moved toward him, but Liam cut in front and said curtly, ‘I’ve got it.’
He seemed to be doing that more and more if it was a male punter. I overheard the man say to Liam peevishly, ‘I want her, Irish, to serve me.’
Customers had started calling me Irish or Red. I could see Liam’s jaw clench from here and his back tense, but he took a step back. I sent up silent thanks that the shift was over in about an hour and moved smoothly forward with a smile on my face and my best Darby O’Gill accent, ‘Now, sir, what can I be getting you?’
* * *
After locking the main door and clearing up the bar area, I was more than ready to call it a night. There had been nothing but silence between me and Liam since the last customer left. As much as I hated to admit it, perhaps working together just wasn’t practical.
Thankfully, when I went into the staff changing area, it was empty. I couldn’t wait to get out of the oppressive tension. It was the same kind of atmosphere just before a storm hits. Thick and full of electricity.
I’d brought some fresh cargo pants and a singlet to change into, so I stripped off my jeans and the Sullivan’s T-shirt. It was bliss to feel some air on my hot skin and I just stood for a moment in bra and panties with my head back.
And then the door opened. My head snapped down to see Liam filling the doorway with his broad lean bulk. Predictably, my pulse rate tripled and my heart went boom.