One King's Way (On Dublin Street #6.5)(9)

“I’m telling you different.” Joss poured rum into the glass she was holding and grinned evilly at him. “Your mothers had hot sweaty sex with your fathers . . . and better yet . . . they loved it.”

Craig thought of the vomit he had to clean up in the men’s bathroom last week because the cleaner had called in sick that night. It did the job of pushing out the imagery Joss was trying to plant in their brains.

“You’re a sick lady, Joss.” Alistair tutted. “A mean, sick, sick lady.”

She laughed at them and wandered back down the bar to her customer.

The bar wasn’t bouncing yet since it was still early on in the night, giving Craig plenty of free time to glance at his phone every five seconds.

He was busy staring at his phone when he heard Alistair ask a customer what he could get them.

“A glass of Fuligni, please.”

Craig’s head jerked up at the voice and he felt this overwhelming lightness in his chest at the sight of Rain sitting at the bar. “I’ll get it, Alistair,” he said automatically, and Rain’s gaze flicked uneasily to him.

He didn’t blame her, he supposed. She’d made it clear she wasn’t up for a one-night stand. Surprisingly that hadn’t put him off. He wanted to know why she was coming to the club every weekend. He wanted to know who she was looking for and what she was up to.

He wanted to talk to her. She was singular in that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so eager to be around a specific someone.

Alistair raised an eyebrow at him.

Craig shrugged. “I know her.”

“Right.” Alistair grinned and drifted off down the bar, probably to gossip with Joss. He was worse than a woman sometimes.

Trying to act casual when he felt anything but, Craig set about getting Rain her glass of wine. He caught her eyes as he turned back to her, and held her stare as he placed the glass down on the bar in front of her.

She lowered her long lashes, hiding her gorgeous big dark eyes from him.

Fuck, but she was beautiful.

His eyes drifted over her. Her hair was styled in much the same way as before but tonight she was wearing a forties-style dress that was a pinky-purple color. This dress showed more cleavage and she wore a silver necklace with an elaborate key as a pendant that nestled invitingly between said cleavage.

His eyes drifted up as a hot blood rushed to his dick.

Her full mouth was painted the same color as her dress.

He’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly.

Rain’s gaze was still on her glass so she hadn’t read the thoughts he was sure were clear in his eyes. And he wanted her to. He wanted her to know just how goddamn stunning he thought she was, even if she did think his opinion meant nothing.

“How have you been?” He leaned against the bar and her fruity-floral perfume drifted over him, making him want to nuzzle her neck to find the point of origin.

“Fine.” Rain finally looked up, her expression carefully blank. “And you?”

He smirked at her monosyllabic answer. “My mother is on a date right now, so I’ve been better.”

Humor lightened her eyes. “Oh dear. How uncomfortable for you.”

He grinned. “Understatement, darlin’.”

“She’ll be fine.”

He pulled out his phone and set it on the bar between them. “She knows to call me if she’s not.”

Rain tipped her head to the side, scrutinizing him. “And would you drop everything to go and help her?”

“Absolutely.”

“Even a gorgeous redhead who makes it clear she’ll sleep with you if you stay?”

He was more than a little irritated that she had to ask such a question, but he hid it. Instead he leaned closer, his voice lowering with his desire for her. “Even a mysterious and beautiful jitterbug with bright pink lips.”

She swallowed hard. The gesture was subtle and he would have missed it if he hadn’t been studying her so carefully. Craig was convinced she wasn’t as unaffected by him as she pretended to be. It was the reason he was chatting to her again, wanting to uncover all her secrets. “Fuchsia,” she whispered. “My lip color is fuchsia.”

Craig stared at her lips, picturing her pressed up against the nearest wall as he kissed the living daylights out of her. “Does it rub off easy?”

“Not this again, Craig,” she said softly.

Their gazes met again, hers defiant, his heated. “I can’t seem to help myself.”

“Well, try.”

“I don’t think you really want me to . . . or you wouldn’t keep coming back.”

She gave a huff of laughter. “You think I keep coming back here for you? Well, aren’t you nice and full of yourself.”

He grinned at her. “If not me then who?”

“No one you know.”

Before he could question her any further, customers seemed to pour into the bar in one big drove and he was diverted by the attentions of his job. Ten minutes later he was in the middle of pouring a customer a lager when Joss stopped beside him.

She smirked up at him. “Your gorgeous brunette says your phone is ringing.”

He glanced down the bar and saw Rain waving his phone at him. He’d clearly left it with her. “Shit. It might be my mum. Can you take over for this customer? It’s this lager and I’ve still to get him a JD and Coke.”