“Work stuff,” I mutter, eyes still on my phone screen. “I’m checking in with Clodagh.”
The tiny dots on the screen indicate that Clodagh is typing, then they disappear without a reply. My hackles rise.
“Where is Clodagh?” Connor asks. He knows we’ve been… we’ve been what? Fucking?
“It’s her birthday.” I reach to open a new beer, annoyed that Clodagh is ignoring me. Then I remind myself that she isn’t working today. She isn’t on the clock and isn’t obligated to answer me.
Still, manners are for fucking free.
“She’s in Queens.”
“Uh-huh.” Connor stares at me with that knowing smirk of his.
“What?” I snap.
His brow arches. “Maybe you should check in on her, make sure she’s okay?”
Connor’s right: I should go check on her. “The Irish idiot that ambushed her at the house might be there.”
He’ll try to hit on her for sure.
I should go.
Except… this is a ridiculous idea. Clodagh’s a grown woman. What am I going to do, pop in unannounced at her birthday party to make sure she’s okay?
“Send one of your security team if you’re really that worried,” Connor says casually with a hint of amusement. “She and Sam seem to be close.”
My entire body goes tense.
He grins helpfully, and I feel a sudden urge to wipe it off his face.
Fuck that. I can’t sit here all night on edge.
Finishing the beer in one gulp, I stand. “Teagan, do you mind looking after your uncle Connor while I pop out?”
“She’s way too cool for you, Dad,” she drawls. “She’s not interested.”
Alarmed, I look at Connor. Teagan knows something’s going on between Clodagh and me? Could my daughter be perceptive enough to tell?
He raises a brow at me in silence.
I swallow hard, my heart thumping in my chest as I look at my daughter. This is exactly the disaster I didn’t want to arise.
“Clodagh and I are just… buddies,” I tell her cautiously, feeling shit for lying to my own child. “I want to make sure she has a nice birthday.”
My little girl lets out an eye-rolling smirk. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. She’s still too cool for you.”
My chest tightens as I stand there, gripping the back of the chair tightly. I shoot Connor a fleeting look of panic.
The last thing I want is for Teagan to know something’s going on between Clodagh and me, the young woman who lives in our home and is supposed to be caring for my daughter. It feels like an act of betrayal to her. Maybe I want her to think of me as a dad only, not as a man or a letdown.
I study her face, feeling more flustered than I have in a long time. Should I deny it?
“You need to get her something,” Teagan says.
“What?”
“Jeez, Dad, you’re clueless.” She rolls her eyes again with exaggerated exasperation. “It’s her birthday.”
Christ. She doesn’t seem particularly bothered by it at all.
Connor smirks at me. “Tiffany’s is open late tonight.”
My face contorts into an awkward smile as I meet his eyes. He gives me an encouraging look in return.
“Okay.” I give a curt nod, focusing on Teagan. “I’ll see you later.”
“Good luck!” she calls after me as I leave. “You’ll need it.”
***
Ninety minutes later, I’m walking into an Irish pub in Queens for the first time in years and am instantly deafened.
The Auld Dog it brings back unsettling memories of O’Shea’s, the pub where I had a fight before Harlow died. The first pub I ever owned. The pub that started my business. It’s like opening a time capsule-all the sights, smells, and sounds bring me back to that horrible night.
The smell of stale beer hangs thick in the air. Drunken laughter drowns out the Irish band in the corner. An old man stumbles forward, trying to clumsily imitate a jig while his pals cheer him on. He teeters and then tumbles into a nearby table, knocking over a tray of beers that shatters on impact. No one seems to care.
“Fuck ye…” another old guy shouts beside me. “Are you young Joe Byrne?” Christ. Literally Christ. He’s wearing a priest’s collar.
“No, Father,” I reply curtly.
I shake my head in disbelief. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a pub like this.
“It’s Clodagh’s boss from Manhattan.”
I glance behind me to see one of the ladies from yoga brassily touching my back. I give her a reserved smile before scanning the room.
“Are you coming back to yoga, honey?”
“Maybe,” I murmur distractedly. I don’t have time for this. I’m here for one reason only.
And there she is.
My stomach churns with the force of seeing her. My heart races, and my palms feel clammy. It’s terrifying.
I watch her grab the arm of a guy who looks vaguely familiar; one of the football players. Jealousy surges through me as he touches her lower back. He says something to her that must be hilarious because she tosses her head back and flashes him her wide smile that should only be directed at me.
She’s glowing.
She’s happy.
I want to pull her away from the guy and everybody else and keep her all to myself.
As if sensing my heavy gaze, she turns.
And her jaw hits the floor.
Clodagh
Glacial-blue eyes burn into mine with unapologetic intensity.
Everything and everyone around me fades away. The noise in the pub recedes into nothing. Time stands still. Aidan is talking to me, but I’m not listening.
I stare at Killian across the pub, my heart in my throat. He’s wearing a baseball hat and a low-key blue T-shirt, but nothing can hide how devastatingly handsome he is.