My eyes slid toward the mechanic, who appeared to be losing his patience, and without further hesitation, I nodded in agreement. “Dinner it is. Just give me a minute.”

As I walked, I felt Logan’s eyes on me and knew the attraction was mutual, but for some reason that knowledge didn’t make me second-guess my decision. I quickly looped the oversized silver and black fob off my key ring and handed it to the mechanic. “Here’s the key. Can you deliver the vehicle to where I work at 40 Charles Street tomorrow once it’s ready?”

He nodded and then scribbled down the address. “The total will be four hundred and sixty dollars—that includes the delivery fee of fifty dollars.”

Once upon a time, I might have winced at the amount for a single tire, but leading a life of domesticity was expensive, as I’d come to learn over the past three months. Without hesitation, I pulled out my credit card, or rather my sister’s, and handed it to him.

Michael and I had an agreement: he’d cover me until my new business got on its feet and I could pay him back. In return, while he did what was needed to make things right for what Lizzy had done, I would help him with Clementine. She had a nanny, but with her mother missing and out of the picture, she needed as many constants in her life as possible. Michael of course, did his best, but he did work a lot. Things were going to have to change soon, but since my arrival I had created a routine with her that worked wonderfully—Wednesday morning breakfasts, Friday afternoon walks, Saturday night sleepovers, and Sunday dinners.

The mechanic handed me the pink carbon beneath the yellow original.

“Have a good night,” I said.

He gave me a nod. “You too.”

Hmmm . . . he seemed fine. I’m not certain what Logan found to be off about him.

The music had started to blare again, this time even louder. “Ready?” Logan’s warm breath was in my ear before I’d even turned around. I heard him just fine, as if my body had become attuned to his in this short period of time.

That should have worried me. But the shiver that ran down my spine erased any worries. With a slight turn of my head, I responded, “I am, but you don’t even know where you’re taking me. I could be asking you to drive me across town for all you know.”

The crowd had seeped into this room without me even noticing and it was no longer the after-work crowd. This was the Friday night crowd. The space between the booths and the bar acted as a second dance floor. Bodies pressed together. People moved. Sweat dripped down women’s bare backs and men’s necks. The tempo seemed to overtake everyone and lust was in the air.

Did he feel it too?

The pounding pulse of the music had me lost for a moment. I almost considered pressing myself against Logan and wrapping my arms around his neck so we could move together in a sinful manner.

Logan, on the other hand, didn’t seem to share that idea. With his jacket on, he slid beside me and handed me my hat and coat. Bringing me back to the conversation I’d almost forgotten about, his mouth was at my ear. “That’s not true. I know that first we’re going to eat at a much quieter place I know around the corner. After that, I’m happy to take you wherever it is you work that you considered walking to because you had to get there so badly. And later I’m taking you back to your place.”

There was an edge of expectation in his voice that coming from another man might have caused me to walk away, but from him, it seemed harmlessly flirtatious.

“Lead the way,” I said, needing to escape this orgy-filled place that seemed to be affecting my libido in the strangest of ways.

Leading us through the throng of bodies and out the door, he turned and asked, “Do you know what the Irish say about green eyes?”

“That they’re always smiling?” I guessed.

He shook his head. “That they leave an invisible trail of magic surrounding everything they see.”

I laughed sarcastically. Little did he know, nothing could be farther from the truth.

LOGAN

“What’s so funny?”

She averted her gaze. “Nothing.”

Elle wore a sad smile that told me her laughter was anything but genuine. And for some insane reason, that only made me want to fuck the sadness right out of her—right where we stood.

Aside from the demons I could see in her eyes, she was sexy as hell, and even though I knew better than to be captivated by her, I couldn’t help myself. There was just something about her. And knowing she was unattached . . . That didn’t help things in the least.

With a shake of my head, I opened the door. The sky was dark, but at least the rain had let up. I looked around but didn’t see anyone. Even so, I pulled out my knit cap and tugged it over my head.

If someone spotted me with her, we were both fucked.

Paranoid?

Nope.

I knew something wasn’t right as soon as I saw her tire. Someone had slashed it. And there was no way it was a coincidence. Patrick must have already found out about her and I was pretty sure that mechanic’s shop was on his payroll. “This way.” I directed her to the right, veering down the closest alleyway.

Her big green eyes weren’t just looking at me; they were watching me, much in the same way I had been watching her since she first turned around at O’Shea’s office.

“What?” I asked.

“Where are we going?”

“To an authentic Irish pub.”

Elle eyed me suspiciously.

“What?” I found myself asking again.

“You mean that wasn’t one?”

“Ha, once upon it time it was, until Frank let his daughter take over. Molly rented the abandoned space next to the original structure and ever since has been slowly converting the place into a dance club.”

She whipped her head toward me with an excitement in her eyes that I could have eaten up. “I knew it. I could tell the moment I walked in.”

“Yep, it’s obvious, but Frank refuses to give up the pub even if the club is encroaching on his space.”

She was still facing me, and there was another glimmer in her eye.

“What?” I asked yet again, this time raising a brow.

She bit her lip. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

Surprised, I almost choked. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No, I’m not.” She wasn’t about pretense. It was a welcome change. And it was such a turn-on.

Amused, I asked, “Just how old do you think I am?” I walked ahead and turned to face her. I wanted to see her expression when she answered.

She hesitated a moment before answering, “Not quite twenty-one.”

“Ahhh . . . you’re killing me.”

She smiled. “I’m totally serious.”

I kept walking backwards. “You’re a few years off. I’m twenty-seven.”

Her eyes swept over me again and then narrowed in doubt.

The alleys were empty. No one was around, and I felt myself start to loosen up. No one was going to see us. I put my hand on my heart. “I’m wounded. You don’t believe me?”

With a hint of smile she said, “No, I don’t.”

Now I found myself reaching into my back pocket and pulling out my wallet. Opening it, I handed her my driver’s license. “Here you go—definitive proof.”

She bit her lip as she studied it.

I wanted to bite it for her. I wanted to taste her lips on mine. I wanted to feel her skin and touch her hair. It wasn’t only one thing that attracted me to her; it was everything about her. The way she smelled, the sound of her voice, the way she walked, the way she made me laugh. I shouldn’t be admitting it, not even to myself.

Her grin widened. “Yes. It appears you are older than twenty-one.”

“Phew. Now I can sleep tonight knowing you believe me.”

She tried to contain a giggle with a hand over her mouth.

I stopped and she almost ran into me. “And you?” I countered, leaning inches from her lips.