Luck of The Irish (Getting Lucky)

“You know, being overprotective isn’t necessarily what he needs.” I knew I shouldn’t have butted in, but I knew Liam would appreciate it.

“It’s been real. Aiden, have a nice night.”

She turned to walk back out the door, but I grabbed her wrist. I didn’t want to let her walk away from me again. A charge ran between our clenched hands, a transfer of energy that was urgent and alive. Based on the roundness in her eyes as she stood completely still, told me I wasn’t in this alone.

“You feel it don’t you?”

“The hand of a presumptuous stranger grabbing my wrist? Yes, I do.” She shook her hand free. “Are you going to let go, or is this one of those situations where I have to scream?”

“No one will hear you, A Chara. The padding makes this gym soundproof. I mean, besides me, I’ll hear you and come to your rescue.”

“I fail to see the humor in that Mr. McCarthy.”

“What happened to you?” I asked, frustration fueling me. “You’re always on the defensive. No one ever been nice to you before? They should. You deserve it.”

“Nothing happened to me. Christ, just because a girl doesn’t fall at your feet doesn’t mean something bad happened to her.”

“Whatever you say, A Chara.”

“Are we done here? Can I go!”

“Don’t know, can you?”

She could have turned and stormed out, but she didn’t. Instead, she held fast and made intense eye contact with me. It was like she was challenging me to push her harder.

“I’d like you stay a while.” I offered her my hand. She glanced between it and my face. “Just come on. You know I’m not dangerous.”

“The jury is still out on that,” she said as she took my hand.

“Haven’t ya ever heard not to judge a book by its cover?” She exhaled and relaxed, her shoulders dropping in response to something I said. Together, we walked back to my office. I opened the door for her, and when she stepped inside, her body brushed against mine and she walked by, making my cock stiffen.

I knew I took up a lot of space, but I wasn’t familiar with that particular occupational hazard. Goddamn she was perfect.

“What’s all this?” she asked, gesturing to the food.

“Since you wouldn’t agree to a date, I had to take measures into my own hands.”

“That’s a lot of food. Who else is coming?”

I laughed in spite of myself. Erin was feisty and funny.

“Hopefully just you.” She nodded in accord and surveyed the spread.

“You make all that yourself?”

“God no,” I said laughing. The tension deflated and I laughed big and loud. “I can cook, hell, but nothin’ impressive like this. And since this is the first date, I really wanted to make it special.”

“Who says this is a date?”

I pulled out a chair for her, “It will be.”

“You’re arrogant if nothing else.”

“You’ve got to be, growing up on these streets.”

“All right, let’s eat.” She sat down, smiling at me.

“You’ve got a pretty smile. You should use it more.”

“I use it a lot, thank you very much,” she said. “And I like to decide when to use it myself, not when someone else tells me.

The comment made her frown. So much for more smiles. I wasn’t sure how to behave around Erin and I could feel the nerves in my body humming just under my skin. I felt like a teenager again, all the obsession and angst rushing in.

“What’s your poison?” I asked, going to the drinks I’d brought in just for her.

“Water, please.”

“You don’t want any wine?”

“No, I don’t drink.” She shook her head sort of apologetically.

“Good, neither do I.” At least we both had that going for us. I cracked open a bottle of ice cold water and poured it into two glasses before handing her one.

“You don’t drink at all either?” she asked.

“Nope, it’s shit for your body, not to mention your immune system. And my body is my job, so I treat it as a temple.”

She took a sip of her water, her eyes trailing my body. “I’d worship that temple too, if I had your body.” She put her water down and quickly covered her mouth as if she’d spoken out of turn. “Holy, crap, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“I’m glad you’ve noticed,” I teased.

“I’d have to be blind not to,” she murmured.

“Your body is temple, too, Erin, as long as we’re talking about churches.”

She blushed high in her cheeks and took a guzzle of water to deflect.

“So why don’t you drink,” I asked, changing the subject.

She hesitated for a moment as if mulling over the question in her mind. The silence would have made most people flip, or long to fill the space with more chatter. But me, on the other hand, I was used to waiting for people to talk. Giving them the space they needed to think and say whatever was on their mind.