“So, what did ya do today to celebrate St. Paddy’s Day then, Maeve McCrum? See the Cork St. Parade? Kiss the Blarney stone?”
I wrinkled my nose. “The Blarney stone? Hell no, locals pee all over that thing.”
Conor laughed, and the sound echoed off the pub’s old stone walls, like it was a part of the music from the live band in the corner. “That’s what makes it lucky.”
“Yeah, well, this is enough celebration for me.” I gestured to my beer. “It was between this and staying back at my shop, talking to the store like some kind of crazy person.”
“Ya… talk to yer store? What, like it’s a person?”
I shrugged. “Might as well be with how old it is. It has secrets and scars just like any human. And it’s the closest thing I have to family, now that my grandparents are gone.”
My candidness was usually a turn off for American men, but Conor nodded in sympathy and bought me another beer. “Ye know, the whole city mourned your grandparents after what happened. It was all over the news. Terrible tragedy.”
By some miracle, probably with help from the alcohol, I managed a smile. It was nice that I’d run into someone who took interest in the shop. He seemed like a genuine fan. The only part that struck me as odd was that he’d never been inside the store.
“I’d love to see it!” he gushed, when I’d mentioned I’d just moved in. He shot up from his chair, practically buzzing with excitement and held out a hand for me to take. “C’mon. Give me a tour, what do ya say?”
“The McCrum clover!” Conor gaped at the stained glass window as I unlocked the door.
“Uh, yep. Family legend, I guess. The store’s supposed to be lucky.” As soon as the notion to tell Conor about the king of the giants and his evil eye popped into my head, I dismissed it. The guy would never stop gushing if I did. He was nice enough, but he hadn’t stopped talking about all the rumors surrounding my store the entire walk here.
This type of guy was someone I’d never go for if I was looking for anything long term. But all I wanted was a meaningless hookup. I needed the distraction, and someone to talk to that wasn’t Gilly or the shop.
What I probably needed was a new therapist, but for now, as drunk as I was, fucking this random guy would have to do.
Once we were inside, Conor’s jaw dropped.
“You’re acting like you’ve never seen an antique store before,” I said, slinging my purse on the arm of a random chair.
“G’way outta that!” He dismissed me with a hand wave. “This place is grand!”
Admittedly, my date’s enthusiasm was infectious. I loved my home, but my feelings were complicated. These walls had seen too much blood and pain.
It was refreshing, seeing it through the eyes of someone else. It reminded me of the first time when I visited with my parents for Christmas when I was six. Coming from our duplex in Boston, stepping into McCrum’s was like falling into a fairytale.
I smiled. “It is nice, isn’t it? Messy as fuck, but it’s been like that my whole life.”
“Can ya show me the back of the store?”
“Oh, um. How about I give you the tour upstairs? I can show you my room. It hasn't changed much since I was a teenager, so you’ll have to ignore the One Direction posters—” Before I could finish my sentence, Conor gripped my arms and pushed me against the wall.
Hot lips crashed down on mine in a frantic, sloppy kiss that had my head spinning. His pelvis pressed against me, and the hardness in his pants jabbed me in just the right place, pushing a breathy moan from my lips.
Fuck. I needed itbad.
Conor ripped away from me with a gasp as the store shook and groaned. “What is that? An earthquake or something?”
“It’s just the building. It’s old. It does that sometimes,” I panted, tugging at his shirt and pressing on my tiptoes to reach his lips.
“R–right.” He bent back down, kissing me again with that same urgency as before.
Taking me by the waist, he guided me backward, making me think he was guiding me toward one of the many sofas scatteredaround. Instead, my butt hit hard wood and I broke our kiss to take in my surroundings.
Conor had pushed me against the register counter. Anger shot through me, realizing that he’d distracted me to indulge his request to see the sales counter.
The anger fizzled out as soon as he lifted me up on the counter and pushed his tongue into my mouth. Okay, so this guy was kind of pushy. But I needed to get laid. I’d use him tonight, get myself off and never see him again. He’d told me he was a regular at the pub down the street. Good thing there were plenty of other pubs in this neighborhood.
This kiss was deep and passionate. At first. Something seemed to be dragging Conor’s focus away from me. I opened my eyes to see him stroking his fingers over the bloodstains on the counter.
