She sipped her wine. “It’s been my experience that the fairer sex are more commonly on the receiving end of insensitive men.”
He set out bruschetta. “That may be true. In my case, I can’t be trusted around women I find beautiful. I lose my head.” He gave her a look that sent heated signals south.
She swallowed. “And that’s a bad thing?”
He handed her a red cloth napkin and set one on his lap. “It is when I’m so involved I’m not thinking straight.”
Ireland munched on the bruschetta, watching him. “From what I’ve gathered, you’re very responsible. I don’t see how dating a woman you’re strongly attracted to would change who you are. You’re in control of your life.”
“Not always in control.” He allowed his gaze to drop to her lips, reminding her of all the times she’d felt Bran lose control.
Ireland swallowed. Their embraces had seemed like extreme attraction between two people, and very, very hot. But maybe he didn’t see things the same way? Meanwhile, Ireland had never experienced that kind of lust with anyone. And she wanted more.
“Do you regret kissing me?” she asked.
“Hell no. But you deserve a better man than me. I’m afraid…”
Bran didn’t finish his sentence. He reached for the food basket instead.
No way was she letting that go. “What are you afraid of?”
He didn’t answer right away, slowly digging around in the basket. “I don’t want to hurt you. But my job is my life. I can’t let my brothers down.”
“I wouldn’t want you to. But what do your brothers have to do with me and you?”
He set a foiled dish on the table and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I went from twenty miles an hour to over sixty after my father died. I’ve never run multiple restaurants, and it’s a major portion of the resort income. I can’t fail.”
Ireland shook her head, confused. “I’ve chatted with Emily. The resort is hanging in there.”
“Hanging in there isn’t the same as performing well. With the exception of the month we hosted the Tahoe Invitational for the professional golf tour—which was a lucky break—we’ve been holding on by our fingertips since my father passed.”
He unfolded the foil dish to reveal the juiciest-looking filet mignon Ireland had ever seen, and it smelled twice as good. “We have the best food and location in town,” Bran said. “If the restaurants fail, no one is to blame but me.”
Bran put too much pressure on himself. Ireland had access to information through her consulting work at Club Tahoe. She’d seen the efficiency with which Bran ran Prime. He was doing a fantastic job. It was almost as though he expected something to fall out of the sky and ruin everything. “You brought in the new ordering system. It’s going to double your revenue.”
“I pushed for it. Convinced my brothers we needed it. And now it’s costing us money we’re not earning back.”
She took a bite of bruschetta and chewed slowly, considering. “For now. I’ll get it running.”
“That’s not what James says.”
Ireland abruptly set her bruschetta on the table. “What’s up with that fucker?”
Bran’s eyebrow quirked.
Ireland clamped her mouth shut. “Sorry... I don’t like him.”
“I can tell. If it makes you feel better, I don’t like him either. But he built the software, and I trust he knows what he’s doing.”
Ireland frowned. “That’s to be determined.”
“One of you needs to prove capable, or I’ll have to come up with a plan B.”
“Plan B—meaning get rid of me and bring on someone else?” she said.
“If I have to. That’s what I meant when I said I have to put the resort and my brothers first.”
Ireland sipped her wine and studied Bran. “We don’t have to do this. I liked you from the moment we met, but I deserve a guy who’s fully invested.”
