Wild Irish: Wild Irish Rose (KW) Read online

  It was what he was going to say when he was face to face with her that he wasn’t sure about. One part of his mind worked on that problem even while he kept up his end of the conversation. When her next set ended, he only hoped he would know what he was going to say.

  Chapter Three

  Roisin had an itchy feeling at the back of her neck. Something strange was going on, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. The bright lights on the stage made it difficult, though not impossible, to see the crowd in front of her. Trying not to be too obvious, she took a hard look at the audience, trying to figure out what might be causing the uncomfortable feeling.

  She was already midway through her second set of three when she thought she spotted a familiar face far across the room. Could it be? No. It would be too much of a coincidence to see him here tonight, though…stranger things had happened.

  Roisin had always heard that everything happened for a reason, and there was a time and season for all things. She didn’t know if she believed that completely, but last year definitely hadn’t been a good time to start anything with Jim. Long-distance relationships never really worked out, and she’d been in a very vulnerable position. Breaking up with her beau of two years had left her feeling raw and uncomfortable in her own life.

  There had been major shakeups in her world, by her own choosing, when she’d returned home from Baltimore the last time. Things were a lot better now, and Roisin credited her time spent with Jim—short as it was—for spurring her on to make the much-needed changes in her personal and professional life.

  As a result, Roisin had recorded an album of love songs that had just been released. Part of her mission in playing gigs farther afield than her home turf was to help publicize the release. She doubted it would take the world by storm, since she specialized in new takes on old Irish tunes that were popular with only a small segment of music lovers, but it was a milestone to her. It was a step forward on her road to independence, and it gave her credibility, and invitations, to perform solo shows for greater income.

  She was learning how to forge her music into something that she could make a good living at. Not just a hobby. Roisin was making a name for herself, in her own right, and gaining a new independence in not only the music, but in many other parts of her life.

  Her father was thrilled. He’d told her, when she embarked on her recording journey, that he was proud of her and had been waiting, in fact, for her to take her career into her own hands. She’d been so relieved. She’d feared what he might say, and had been afraid that he would take her actions as some sort of insult to him and what he had done for her career to this point.

  In a way, she had Jim to thank for her turnaround. Until her night with him, she’d just been spinning her wheels in her music and in her love life. She’d settled for what, in retrospect, were basically dull men who hadn’t caused any real spark in her soul. All of her relationships up to Jim had been predictable. Safe. Boring.

  But Jim had shown her there could be so much more. Glorious sex, interesting conversation—what little there’d been of that. Her hours with Jim had opened her eyes to the possibilities, and she had taken the lesson to heart and, on her return home, had made immediate steps to change her life and her circumstances.

  She hadn’t been involved with anyone since Jim. Had he ruined her for anyone else? She didn’t think so. But by the same token, he was a hard act to follow.

  She’d been working on herself and her own life for the past year. Jumping right into another relationship with the kinds of guys she had dated before didn’t really make sense.

  But now, here she was, in the same pub, looking at a man who could be Jim, though she couldn’t tell for sure with the stage lights in her eyes. Still… It would make an eerie sort of sense. Fate, if you will.

  Roisin finished up her second set with both excitement and trepidation in her heart. She just had to know. Was that Jim over there at the table with a few other clean cut men and women? Were they Navy people, like him? They certainly had that look about them.

  She’d watched them as carefully as she could from the distance of the stage and realized that none of them were pairs. There wasn’t the boyfriend-girlfriend vibe coming off of any of the men and women seated next to each other. Based on the body language, it looked more like a gathering of co-workers, or people who didn’t know each other that well on a personal level.

  Now, the problem was how to find out if the man she thought might be Jim, really was. She looked away from the table to settle her instruments in preparation for the short break between sets. When she looked up again, the table was empty.

  Shit.

  Had they all left while her back was momentarily turned? It certainly looked like it. Quickly, she scanned the room as she stepped down from the small bandstand. Yes. There they were. Clustered around the door. She counted off the people she’d seen at the table. The two women, three of the men. But not the one she was looking for. Where was he?

  “Ro?”

  She spun on her heels, hand clutched to her heart. A man had snuck up on her, and when she looked up to meet his eyes, there was no doubt. It was Jim. And he was smiling at her.

  “Jim!” Her voice was breathless. Would he notice how nervous she was? Should she come clean about spotting him? Yeah, probably. He might’ve noticed her staring at his table. “I thought I saw you sitting in the back.”

  He nodded. “Just out for drinks with a few colleagues. I didn’t know you were in town, but I’m happy to see you again.”

  Her spirits fell a bit at his admission that he hadn’t come to see her specifically, but she rallied. He was here now. Was the chemistry between them as she remembered, or had she built up their encounter in her mind over the past year into something that wouldn’t survive a second meeting?

  “When did you get back?” she asked.

  She thought that was a safe enough question. She didn’t want to sound like she’d been too caught up in wondering where he was, but she had known he was on his way to the airport when he left her that morning. He’d been shipping out for at least a year of overseas duty, and he hadn’t known when he’d return.

  “Just a couple of weeks ago, actually,” he replied easily enough.

  “So, you’re home on leave again?”

  “No, I’m stationed nearby for now. Tonight was a team-building exercise to get to know my new colleagues.” He glanced toward the door, but the other Navy people had gone by now. “Look, can I buy you a drink?”

  He seemed so earnest. Had he been thinking about her over the past year too? Or was this just some kind of target of opportunity?

  Either way, she’d be foolish not to at least talk to the guy. He’d occupied her thoughts more than he should have since their stolen night together. Maybe talking to him now would help her put an end to thoughts of what might’ve been, once and for all. It was entirely possible he wasn’t anything like she remembered. He might be a jerk…or dull…or not too bright. There must be something she could point to and say she’d got away lucky in the years to come. Possibly.

  Or, he might be as dishy as she thought, and she’d keep on thinking about him long into her dotage. She’d be the old lady in the nursing home talking about the young sailor she once knew, telling wild tales about her misspent youth and the crazy fling she’d had.

  She held up the empty water bottle in her hand. “I’m on water until after my last set.”

  “Well, how about then? Do you have to leave right away? Or can you stick around for a few minutes so we can catch up?”

  Did he sound eager? Or was she just imagining things?

  Chapter Four

  “I don’t go back home until Monday, so I can stick around for a drink tonight. As long as you don’t mind waiting.”

  “Not at all,” he answered, flashing that charming smile she remembered. Her knees went a little weak, so she started walking slowly toward the bar. He followed.

  Tristan set her up with a f
resh bottle of water, and she lingered at one end of the bar while Jim ordered a beer for himself. They talked of generalities. He told her about his tour in Afghanistan and some of the places he’d seen in his travels over the past year. She talked about her solo efforts and the album she’d just released. He seemed so pleased for her, and it warmed something inside her to know he felt so strongly about her achievements.

  She got the feeling he was glossing over what had to have been hazardous times in his travels, but she wouldn’t pry. It was his right to keep things private. After all, they didn’t really know each other all that well…except maybe in the Biblical sense. And that was only the one night.

  She was all tingly during her next set, knowing she’d talk more with him once she finished up for the night. Excitement filled her, and she felt truly alive for the first time in a long time. Since the last time she’d been with him, in fact. There was something about this man in particular. Something vital that was missing from her life usually. Incredible as it seemed.

  When she finished, he was right there, at the foot of the stage. The usual round of well-wishers waited to say a few words while she packed up her instruments. The guitar was the biggest piece, and Jim held onto it while she packed up her small keyboard and the associated wires.

  Normally, she’d have to make a few trips to her vehicle to get all her gear packed up, but Jim had already offered to help her to her car later. He truly was an officer and a gentleman. He worked with her, making small talk as she bustled around.

  “I’d love to hear your new album,” Jim said at one point.

  “That can be arranged,” she replied, surprised at her own flirtatious tone.

  Did she really want to flirt with him? Did she want a repeat of what had happened the last time they’d met? If so, flirting was one way to get there, but the question remained—did she want another one-nighter with Jim?

  Now that he was back in the States, was one night all they could have? Or was there some possibility that he might be looking for more? And, did she want more with him?

  Since she’d been dreaming about him for an entire year, she thought maybe the answer to that last question was probably yes, though spending another night with him would give her the true answer. Had she built up what they’d shared into something it wasn’t? Had she been deluding herself all this time?

  Maybe he wasn’t the lover she remembered. Maybe she’d just been feeling vulnerable, and he’d fit the bill for the night but wouldn’t work out long term. The crux of it was, she wanted to know for certain.

  The fastest way to find out was to see where this night would lead…and if it led to them sharing a bed again, well, worse things had happened. At least she’d know for sure if last year was just an embellished fantasy or the real deal.

  So, when he suggested moving on to a local twenty-four-hour coffee shop, she gladly accepted his invitation. She wanted more time with him, if only to talk. The conversation turned again to the past year he’d spent in the war zone when it struck her just how much danger he’d actually been in.

  “I’ve never told you how much I admire you for serving our country,” she told him, truly awed by his descriptions of what he’d been through over there.

  He’d probably censored his own words and glossed over a lot, but she could read between the lines. It hadn’t all been easy going. He might be a lawyer, but he was also a soldier, and he’d been right there in the war zone. At risk, along with every other service member there.

  He tried to brush off her praise, but she wouldn’t let him. She covered his hand on the table and looked deep into his eyes.

  “I thought about you a lot over the past year, but it didn’t really hit me that you’d be in the thick of things. I guess I thought, as a lawyer, you’d be away from the actual fighting, but it’s clear, from what I suspect are your highly-edited stories, that I was wrong. I’m kind of glad I didn’t realize, because it would only have added to my worry,” she told him, being brutally honest as only one could be over an after-midnight cup of coffee. The emptiness of the coffee shop and the quietude of the hour invited confidences.

  “You were worried about me?” he asked, his voice pitched low, the atmosphere between them suddenly intimate.

  She smiled a little. “Yeah. I was. You were in my mind more than you probably should have been for someone I’d only known a few hours.”

  “You were in my mind a lot too, Roisin.” Suddenly, the world shrunk down to just the two of them. His words felt important. Heavy. Almost life-altering.

  “Odd as it seems, I missed you,” she dared admit.

  “It’s not odd at all,” he told her. “I missed you too. It felt like we connected more than I’d ever done with anyone else in such a short time, and all the way across the world, I kept thinking about what might’ve happened if I hadn’t had to leave.”

  “You don’t have to leave this time,” she stated, surprising herself.

  “You’re right.” He smiled, turning their hands over and taking hers in his, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb in a rhythmic way that set up a little dance of electric sparks radiating up her arm and straight down her spine to her most intimate places.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” she found herself whispering. “My hotel is just up the street. We could order up a nightcap from room service…or something.”

  His eyes widened for a brief moment before he stood abruptly. They hadn’t gotten the check yet, but it didn’t matter. He took out a fifty-dollar bill and left it on the table. That would more than cover their coffee, with a very generous tip besides.

  The walk up the block to her hotel was accomplished with a tense sort of anticipation. Roisin knew full well what might happen as soon as they got up to her room, but she didn’t care. On the contrary, she wanted it very badly indeed.

  “Hang on a minute,” Jim said as they entered the lobby.

  There was a small bar off to one side, and he led her in there. Few people were sitting in the darkened corners, and the bartender was quick to supply Jim with the requested bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice and two glasses. Roisin felt like they were going on some kind of romantic adventure as they stole up to her room through the deserted hallways. Arriving at her door, she waved the electronic key at the lock and let the door swing wide.

  “I’d carry you in, but then, you’d have to hold this,” Jim joked, lifting the ice bucket with bottle in one arm and the glasses in the other.

  “That’s okay.” She smiled at him. “It’s the thought that counts.”

  She preceded him into the room, suddenly self-conscious about bringing him up here. It was a brazen move, unlike her usual behavior. Then again, that seemed to be the norm where Jim was concerned.

  He placed the ice bucket on the sideboard and set about opening the bottle. Pouring two glasses, he gave one to her, and they toasted each other. The sparkle in the wine matched the sparkle in his eyes as he looked at her, and she was beguiled. Jim always seemed to have that effect on her.

  “Champagne makes me think of New Year’s Eve,” she told him, looking for something to say. “Or special occasions.” She took a sip, kicking herself for her inanity. Why couldn’t she come up with something mysterious and intriguing to say?

  “This is a special occasion,” Jim replied, moving closer to her. He took the glass out of her hand and put it with his on the side table. Then, he took her into his arms and kissed her.

  He was right. This definitely was a special occasion. His kisses felt like coming home after a long journey. Or embarking on an exciting adventure. They were comfort and adrenaline all rolled into one, and she sank into him, making no move to stop him as he took her to the bed.

  Things moved fast from that point. Clothes were thrown to the four corners of the room. His. Hers. All fabric was banished quickly as his lips and hands pushed her passion higher.

  She wasn’t sure exactly how it happened, but the next thing she knew, she was bent over the bed, ass up, a
nd Jim was fucking her from behind. He had his hands on her ass cheeks and his dick in her pussy—where she’d missed having him this past year. All felt right with the world.

  Right and really, really hot. Inferno-hot. The way it had been with Jim—and only Jim—that one time they’d been together.

  She was glad to discover it hadn’t been a fluke. She hadn’t over-dramatized their encounter in her memory. Jim and her together were explosive in the most delicious possible way.

  She screamed when she came, and he tensed behind her, his hands tight on her hips as he joined her in a quick, hard climax.

  Sweet mother in heaven, what had just happened? Jim tried to collect his spinning thoughts as he pulled out of Roisin’s luscious body. He helped her onto the bed before taking a moment to dash into the bathroom and take care of the condom he’d remembered to put on at the last possible moment.

  Only Roisin had ever affected him so strongly that he had to scramble like a schoolboy. He liked the way she made him feel. As if it was all fresh and new. Exciting and…real, somehow…in a way his other encounters weren’t. Not that he’d had many in the past year.

  He’d been overseas most of the time, surrounded by guys, mostly. And it just wasn’t done to fraternize with his subordinates—what few females were posted in his detachment. Female company had been scarce while he was deployed, and when he’d come back for the rare visit, he’d been too busy with family obligations to seek out much company.

  It had been a hell of a long dry spell, but he was making up for it now. He’d only just come, and already, he was thinking about round two. He only hoped Roisin was up for it.

  He returned to the bedroom to find her slumped on the bed in the position he’d left her in. She looked adorably wrung out, and it made something inside him warm at the idea that he’d done that to her. He’d given her so much pleasure, she’d collapsed on the bed and hadn’t moved. Round one to Jim, then. Not that he was keeping score.