Seducing Texas (So not Prince Charming #2)(6)

“More than fine. Just visiting me da.” He raises the flask to me. “Would yer like some?”

“No thanks.” I glance at the gravestone, which pretty much says Dallas was the single party hound whom Fay described. “I’m asking because Dallas is my half sister’s uncle, and he supposedly doesn’t have any children.”

He chuckles. “Well, I’ll be damned. I’m a bastard. Would’ve never thought that.” He swings his flask. “Here’s to yer, Da.”

His drinking scares me. “You aren’t driving are you?”

“I’ll be sleeping here tonight with me dear ole da. I think he’d like that.” He drinks some more and almost hits his head on the stone. “Yer see, he left all his millions to the Humane Society, and even took his dog with him, so he wouldn’t have to give a dime or his dog to us. Never paid a cent to me ma, and I liked the dog. I would’ve taken the dog.” He burps rather loudly.

“You should let us drive you home. I’m Willa. If Dallas is your dad, then you’re my cousin through marriage.” I look at him, expecting a name. He should be home in bed.

“Aedan. Are we kissing cousins?” He winks both eyes at me.

“We just met,” I say, his comment causing me to stumble backward. Now I really can’t breathe.

“Tis a shitty day, but I know how to make it better.” He stands up and towers over me, and I’m not short. His lips curl into a devilish grin, and he teeters on his feet.

Jittery nerves flutter in my stomach. He’s not as big as Shane, but he’s big.

His grin widens, and he rubs that sexy chin. “Kiss a pretty girl. That’ll make my day.” Both his hands clasp my face, and his eyes sparkle with devious intent. He swoops down and lands his lips on my unsuspecting ones.

The beard growth scratches my chin. I taste the Irish whiskey on his tongue, and the scent of pure male, musky with a hint of soap, fills my nose. And to my surprise, my body really likes his roughness, especially the taste of him.

My legs give out, and his hand repositions to my waist. I’m melting, pooling into a puddle by his intense kiss. The song Kiss by Prince plays in my head. That has never happened when I’ve hooked lips with a boy. I’m hearing music, which could be worse than voices.

I hear Cyn giggling, breaking the momentum of his thought stealing kiss.

“I feel much better,” he says, puffing out his chest.

I push him away. “Get in the car. I’m driving you.”

“I like a forceful lass, but what about my truck? I may need that in the morning to work. I do have to work, especially after Da forgot about us.”

Us? “Give me the keys.”

“Can I trust you?” He dangles the keys above me out of my reach. “Yer did just steal a kiss from me, and you’re a relative of sorts. You naughty girl.”

When he stumbles, I snatch his keys, and Cyn gathers our picnic and blanket.

“I’ll follow you,” she says. “So Dallas Hunt didn’t take care of his progeny—no surprise there.”

I help Aedan into his beat-up truck, climb in, and get his address. Like an infant, he’s snoring as soon as the truck rumbles under us, and it makes me smile. I’ve met Dallas many times, and every time he had a different woman on his arm.

The address leads me to a small apartment, thankfully on the ground floor. I have to shake him hard for him to even stir. Cyn waits in my Camry outside while I help Aedan inside.

“Aren’t you going to help me?” I complain.

Laughing, she shakes her head. “He may want another kiss or worse yet kids.”

He grins, and I realize that blue eyes swim in a drunken sea of red. “Yer are an angel and pretty.”

I know I’m not howling at the moon, but guys usually notice Cyn and Fay before me, so my head swells, even though he’s blind drunk. His inebriation explains a lot.

As soon as we enter, a little mutt yaps and jumps on my legs, scratching them. It’s a cute teacup-sized dog. I help Aedan to his bed where he pulls me down with him. Oh God. How do I get out of his embrace? He feels so incredibly good I don’t want to.

This is not going to happen.

He’s laughing. “Well, that’s funny. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

He thankfully passes out as soon as his head hits the pillow.

I leave his keys on the counter where they’ll be easy to find and spot a very expensive movie rig sitting haphazardly on a chair. The rig has three motorized axis to stabilize shooting. I’ve taken a few film classes and have half considered majoring in it in college.

The dog keeps jumping toward the rig and getting dangerously close to knocking it off.

I lift the camera to set it higher up on the counter, and as I do, a beautiful dark haired woman waltzes in and toes off her ankle boots. This must be his girlfriend. I should’ve known.

Shoot.

Before I set the camera down, I take note of the Austin Studios key card with Aedan’s photo. He must work for them.

“Who are you?” she asks suspiciously. She has a slight Irish accent. “And why are you holding Aedan’s camera?”

This is awkward. Cyn, where are you? “Aedan was really drunk, and I gave him a lift.”

“That doesn’t explain why you are filching his camera.”