I followed at the back of the group, my eyes roaming the place as I entered. My mouth kicked up as I surveyed the familiar furnishings. T-shirts of different counties in Ireland lined the wall alongside photos of random Gaelic football teams. Guinness, Jameson, and Tullamore Dew posters hung around the wooden panel walls, and two hurling sticks crisscrossed the wall above the bar. There were tables and chairs littered around, as well as tall pub tables and bar stools. Towards the right of the bar was a stage and dance floor.
"Honey!" Amelia called out, walking fast towards the corner of the bar.
Oh great, the boys were already here. I couldn't handle seeing Harrison just yet, especially off the back of dealing with Jessica's winning attitude. Without glancing too closely at the group, I quickly made my way to the bar. A solo shot for courage was in order and then I planned on buying a tray of tequila shots for the girls. Harrison could buy his own crew their drinks.
As I motioned the bartender over and placed my order, I felt a tingle of awareness at the back of my neck. Shit, I was rumbled. And I knew precisely by whom.
"I'll get this, Pat," Harrison's deep voice sounded beside me. His forearm brushed against mine, causing the tiny hairs to rise. There was no reason for him to be standing this close. I faced him and used the change of body movement to discreetly move an inch away.
Harrison grinned down at me, the dimple popping on his cheek. Damn, he smelled good.
"It's okay, I'm getting these," I tightly replied. It was difficult being this close to Harrison without automatically batting my lashes up at him and flirting. That's what I usually did if someone of his caliber approached me at a bar.
"No, let me. You can get the next one if you like," he winked. The look in his eyes made it clear that my money card would not be used tonight. I shrugged and murmured a demure thanks. I was used to Southern male chivalry, so I would not protest a man buying me a drink. If he wanted to spend his money buying our party shots, that was on him.
I stood stiff and tense as Harrison signaled the bartender to add to my order, his rough timbre discernible without having to raise his voice over the loudness of the bar. His long fingers tapped against the bench, the tendons and veins mesmerizing me in their movements. He was just soannoyinglyvirile and strong. I hated it. Especially how they made mydown-thereparts feel.
I could sense his stare fixated on me, not bothering to be subtle like I had the decency to be. My body seared as self-consciousness trickled down my spine. So much for showing up here and making him eat his regrets.
"I love your hair." He reached out and stroked a strand briefly before dropping his hand back on the bar before I could protest. "It suits you. You look beautiful."
I cleared my throat, cursing the blush I felt on my skin for betraying my act of indifference.
Luckily, our bartender was quick on their feet with our order. Before we knew it, a crowded tray of tequila shots, lemon wedges, and a salt shaker was placed before us, ready to be consumed.
Harrison took charge, sliding the salt shaker and lemon wedge in front of me. Somehow, he knew I had planned on downing a solo shot of liquid courage before joining the group.
"Sláinte." He winked at me before tossing the shot back, never once breaking eye contact. Pink splotched my cheeks as I watched on, my breath labored.
He was so smooth with it, too. No coughing or eye-watering, and definitely no salt-licking or lemon wedge to suck on post-shot. A straight shooter.
He raised a brow at me, essentially throwing the gauntlet down. I shook my head to clear it.
Two could play at this game.
Needing to find myself on even ground with him, I decided to call to my inner siren. Feeling bold, I picked up one of the small glasses, ready to down it.
My blue eyes stayed on his as I slowly licked the hand holding the shot, before shaking the salt out. Wanting to remove the teasing glint in his gaze, I took another lascivious lick of my hand. Satisfaction warmed me when a smoldering focus quickly replaced that glint. To anyone else, my blatant display might have appeared cheesy and awkward. But given the way Harrison watched me with hooded eyes narrowed on my wet lips, I knew that the bar would have to crumble down before his gaze could be torn from mine.
I tossed my drink back and willed myself not to scrunch my face at the burn in my throat. That would defeat the purpose of my deliberate tease. Without breaking eye contact, Harrison held out the lemon wedge for me to take. Feeling emboldened under his enamored attention, I ignored his offer and instead leaned forward to suck the citrus wedge from his hand. The edges of my mouth brushed his fingertips, causing his pupils to dilate in unrestrained desire.
"Gracie," he groaned as if in agony. He stepped closer and bent his head. My breath suspended, unsure what his next move would be. Would he kiss me?
His lips brushed my ear. "That was the sexist thing I have ever seen," he growled.
The warmth of his breath brushed the delicate shell of my ear, sending delighted shivers down my spine.
A glass breaking pulled me out of my stupor. The noise of the crowded bar entered my psyche, and I became aware of where I was. And who I was with.
What was I doing? I stepped back on shaky legs before grabbing the tray of drinks. "We should take these back before they start to revolt." I was proud of the calm tone in my voice even though I avoided his knowing gaze.
"Let me." He carefully lifted the tray out of my hands. It was probably for the best because even though my voice sounded stable, my hands definitely weren't. The group would not be happy if half their drink was pooled on the tray.
They all cheered as we approached, and I pasted on a bright grin. Liam, his brother Michael, James, two of his school buddies, and Harrison made up his party. Only Harrison and Michael were to be groomsmen, alongside Hannah and me as bridesmaids.
As the group mixed and mingled, more drinks were poured and served. We were all in good spirits, laughing and joking with the happy couple, who seemed to spend a lot of time with their lips locked. I was enjoying myself, too, even though I was very aware of Harrison's presence—and vice versa.
Every time I glanced up, my gaze was trapped by his. He would watch me unashamedly, his eyes hooded with focused intent. My heart was hammering a solid beat, and I could feel the alcohol loosening my inhibitions. Soon, my own eyes lingered and played with his. I couldn't stop myself from finding him, from remembering the feel of his hard body pressed up against mine at the bar. Or the warmth of his breath caressing my ear as he admitted how hot he found me.
