“Yeah, most of the time,” he shyly admitted. “I just really wanted to go for a walk by myself. It’s beautiful outside today. I didn’t think I needed

security to do that, but I suppose I should rethink that, huh?” he said while examining the large rip in his T-shirt. “Damn. This was one of my

favorites.”

I couldn’t help but nod in agreement with his statement; a shot of whiskey was burning my throat now. I refilled our shot glasses; it would take

more than one to calm me down.

“Would you excuse me for a moment?” I asked politely. “I’ll be right back.”

I ran upstairs to get him a new T-shirt. There was a huge hole in his shirt and I felt terrible for him. On my way through my apartment, I stopped to

check my appearance in the mirror. Great, my nipples are standing at attention. Guess I was in the cooler too long? I tried to push them back in as

I picked the clean T-shirt out of the laundry basket. It was still warm from when I took it out of the dryer this morning.

“Here. Please… take this.” I handed him my favorite oversized T-shirt. It was dark blue and soft from many washes. “Your T-shirt is really torn.

You can’t walk around looking like that. The bathroom is over there if you would like to change.”

“Thanks! Thanks a lot!” Ryan unfolded the shirt and looked at it, appearing very puzzled. “Wait, this shirt can’t be yours. It’s way too big. Is this

your…”

I shook my head. “No, it’s mine – well it used to be my father’s but now it’s a very comfortable sleep shirt.” My admission made me shrug. “I just

washed it. I’m sorry, it’s all I have. You don’t have to… I just thought...”

He smiled at me and pulled the shirt out of my reach. He wadded it up in his hand and departed for the restrooms. The way he looked at me

made me question if he ever gets treated with kindness by strangers. My gesture seemed to take him by surprise.

When he returned, he held his hands out from his sides. His posture asked the unspoken question for me to give my opinion.

When I wore that shirt it fit me like a dress, but on his body the soft cotton covered his physique like second skin. I noticed the contours of his

defined chest through the thin fabric and how the sleeves accentuated his muscular biceps.

I nodded and smirked. He looked gorgeous in my T-shirt.

“I think it fits you better,” I murmured, noticing that the color made his blue eyes even more alluring.

“It’s really soft, and it smells really good too.” He had the collar pulled up to his nose. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I smiled warmly. I was pleased that he no longer looked like a victim.

“So you live upstairs?”

I nodded; my eyes instinctively flashed up to the ceiling. I still couldn’t look directly in his eyes. “My apartment is the entire second floor.”

“Roommates?” he asked, almost expecting me to say yes.

“No, I live alone,” I informed quickly.

“Cats?” he questioned.

I laughed lightly at his insinuation. “No. I’m allergic to them.”

Ryan grinned and pushed his empty glass forward on the bar. “Me too,” he mumbled. We tapped our shot glasses together and downed our

second shot of whiskey.

“Would you like another beer?” I didn’t want to assume.

He nodded and smiled. “Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

While I was refilling his glass the keg kicked, sending a pop of foam all over my face, shirt, and hair. Oh great, perfect timing. I suppose by the

way he laughed at me that he thought it was amusing.

“You have my kind of luck,” he admitted.

“Ugh,” I groaned, wiping myself off with a bar rag.

Ryan had a huge grin on his face. As much as I was embarrassed, his smile was quite contagious.

I reached down to pull the empty keg from the cooler and gasped slightly when I noticed he had come around the back of the bar. He was

standing there staring at me again.

“Here, let me help you. It’s the least I can do.” He gently wiped some beer froth from my hair then moved me out of the way to grab the empty

keg. I felt flush – like my heart skipped a beat.

I noticed that when he was right next to me he sniffed me; he even leaned in to get a better whiff.

“Is that you that smells like… peaches?”

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye as I reflexively leaned away. I smelled my shirt to get a better understanding of what he was referring

to.

“I guess so,” I answered.

Ryan leaned over closer and smelled me again. I instinctively leaned farther away, almost tipping off-balance. His nostrils opened wider and a

slight grin appeared on his lips.

“Peach scented perfume?” he asked.

“No. Just soap and body lotion.” Why is this guy sniffing me? “Do I smell bad?”

“No. Quite the opposite.” He smiled and inhaled deeply through his nose, like he was sensing the most pleasing of all scents. He muttered

something about being a first under his breath. I didn’t understand.

“So, you really own this place?” Ryan asked, carrying the empty keg to the back room for me.

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, I’m not the best judge of a woman’s age, but aren’t you sort of young – I mean, you look about as old as I am and you own your own

business.”

His observation didn’t bother me. I was used to having people make assumptions as to how I was able to afford a pub while only being twentyseven.

“Well, my grandfather was the original Mitchell. Then when he passed away my dad took it over,” I informed him. “My father died a little over a

year ago, it's been mine ever since.”

“Oh, I’m sorry – about your father,” he corrected. “And your mom? Is she…?”

“No,” I murmured. “She died four years ago – right after I turned twenty-three.”

“Wow. I’m sorry to hear that. So do you have any brothers or sisters?”

I just shook my head. “No.” I shrugged, trying to sound content and cheerful. “Just me.”

I hated the reminder that I was alone in this world. I wheeled around the cart to load up a new keg of beer as the sadness washed over me.

“Here, let me do that.” Ryan placed his hand in the small of my back and gently moved me out of the way so he could take over loading the keg

on the cart. I jumped ever so slightly when his fingers made contact with my body; I was surprised that he touched me.

We were so close that I could smell the scent emanating from his body; he had a slightly spicy but light and manly aroma. He smelled wonderful.

I breathed in another whiff of him while I could, only I wasn’t so obvious about it.

Ryan gave the keg a good shove to get it into the cooler under the taps. Why did I notice the muscles in his arms flex? I had to shake the thought

from my head.

“Thank you.” I smiled.

“Sure! No problem,” he said happily.

“This bar is beautiful.” He rubbed his hands across the mahogany rail as he returned to his seat. “You don’t see craftsmanship like this

anymore. The scrolling and detail is magnificent.”

“My grandfather built it.” I beamed. “Every time I look at it, it makes me smile. He put so much of himself into this place. All this woodwork you

see was done by his hands. The booths, the wainscoting, he built it all.”

Ryan stood up and walked toward the enormous wooden pillar that spanned from floor to ceiling.

“Your grandfather was a talented man.” His fingers were busy tracing the intricate patterns carved in the dark oak post. “I really like the exposed

red brick too. This place reminds me of a pub I was in once when I filmed in Ireland. Has that authentic feel to it, you know?”

“Thanks!” I replied. His compliment seemed very genuine and made me smile. “I always thought this place had that old-world charm too.”

His gaze rolled over to the far end of the pub. “That’s a pretty big stage. You have bands play here?”