Proper Irish (Jaded Lily #1) by Zeia Jameson

Author:Zeia Jameson [Jameson, Zeia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B01NAYG0IS
Publisher: Zeia Jameson
Published: 2017-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

We reach City Market and exit the trolley. “What were you thinking for dinner?” Padraig asks, grabbing my hand as we begin walking.

I shrug. “Do you mind going to Wedge? I’m kind of in the mood for some good, greasy mozzarella sticks and a cold beer.”

“You’re fancy,” he teases.

I shrug again. “I like what I like.”

“Wedge it is, then.”

On the way, a thought crosses my mind. “Those guys you were there with last time—will they be there, you think? Will I ruin your badass reputation?”

“What?” Padraig takes a moment to think. “Ah. I remember. Those were members of a local motorcycle club. Customers of Luca’s shop.”

“They looked scary.”

“No. Completely harmless. They’re all retired Veterans who love to ride. And get tattoos.”

“Oh.”

He wraps his arm around my waist to stop me from walking. He kisses me, and I feel weightless. “Don’t for one second think you’d tarnish any kind of reputation I have. I don’t care what people think of me. And you shouldn’t care what people think of you either.”

I nod. “It was a simple question. A joke, really. But thank you for saying that. Are you always so intense?”

He smiles. “I suppose I am.”

“We need to work on that.”

“Let’s get you fed, bossy lady.”

We sit at the bar just as Morty catches sight of us. He does a double take and rushes over to us, flinging a bar towel over his shoulder. “Dear saints in heaven, hell has frozen over. Did the two of you really just walk in together?”

“Right before your very eyes,” I exclaim.

“Well, knock me over with a feather. I’m not even going to ask how this came about.” He shifts his eyes between us and shakes his head. “What can I get for you tonight?”

“Can I get some mozzarella sticks? And a pint of the bourbon ale?”

“Coming right up. Padraig, Guinness, I assume?”

“Yes.”

“Will you have anything to eat?”

“Turkey and Swiss on rye. Sweet potato fries.”

“On it.”

Morty walks away to get our drinks. He then brings our beers and leaves us so he can tend to the other customers.

“So, just the mozzarella sticks?”

“Yeah. He always gives me extra. It’ll be plenty. What about your sweet potato fries? Are you a big health-food nut?”

“No. I just like their sweet potato fries.”

I smile. The expression on his faces changes a little. He covers my hand that’s resting on the bar with his. “I really am sorry about earlier. And last night. I shouldn’t have—”

I cut him off. “Don’t worry. It’s water under the bridge. Really. And I’m sorry for showing up drunk, acting like a fool. That isn’t me. It’s just been a weird few weeks.”

“Then, all is forgotten?”

“Yes. All of the bad things, anyway.” I wink. He winks back.

As I take another sip of my beer, I hear the horn of a boat pulling up to the docks. I turn in my chair with excitement. Through the glass storefront of Wedge, I can see the top of the shipping barge peeking over the buildings of River Street.

I grab Padraig’s hand and tug for him to stand.

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