“A smart fella takes care when the Irish fiddle starts to sing.”
My eyes roved to the left. A tall man stood next to me. Fair hair, light eyes. No threat. On a second glance. Could be. “Come again,” I said, accepting the bottle of Jameson from the bartender.
“Your wife,” he nodded behind him. “She cannot keep still when the Irish fiddle plays. Think twice before you hit me over the head with that bottle, aye? Whiskey goes down the throat easier.”
I smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. “The bottle is for drinking. I wouldn’t need it for anything else.”
“No doubt. If words spoken from a monster are true.” He looked me up and down. “I tend to believe ’im this time.”
I smiled, this time friendly. The bartender came back with two full glasses of Guinness. I caught him before he took another order. “Another bottle of Jameson, for my friend here,” I nodded toward him.
Then I turned to the man and held my hand out. “Aeden.” Surprising us both, I pulled him in, slapping him on the shoulder. “Ti devo la mia vita.” I said with all the emotion I could put in those five words—I owe you my life.
“Ah,” he waved it off, and we both took a step back. “Not necessary, tis my job, man. The wee dancer, she’s a creature worth dyin’ for. That one’s got a pirate smile, and the kind of spirit that frightens a sailor—last time she was here, she ran the good captain and his crew to another pub down the way. And if you don’t mind me sayin’ truthfully, a creature known to call trouble without meanin’ to.”
This made me throw my head back and laugh. We clanked glasses, and beer dripped down our hands. It tasted as good as it smelled.
Aeden glanced at Scarlett. A slow smile stretched his lips. “I think I’ll take you up on your offer. Not your life, mind. An experience. Then we’re square.”
I sighed. He didn’t even have to say it, but did, and we shook before he went to the table. Her eyes brightened at the sight of him. She popped up from her seat, embracing him, before they stepped apart and started up a conversation. She pointed toward me. I lifted the beer, Aeden lifted his, and she smiled, belatedly realizing that we had already met.
Aeden must’ve given her his request then. She looked at me and then answered him. He waved a hand, indicating that he had taken care of the issue. Her eyes found mine. I took a long drink of beer, and then nodded to her. Her throat moved when she swallowed, but she took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.
I went back to my beer, seeing as my wife was safe in the arms of the man who was there when I wasn’t. He seemed like a good man, but I didn’t like being in debt to anyone. Not when I should have been there to defend mine.
“There are some fine asses up in here tonight,” the man next to me said.
His friend whistled. “You think they’re all Irish?”
Americans. Late twenties. Inebriated. Not smart enough to know that one “fine ass” belonged to me. He and his buddy were looking in the direction of the dance floor, judging the fresh meat on a scale from one to ten.
Chiara, Violet, Layla, Eva, had joined Scarlett and Aeden in front of the stage. And he was right, when the Irish fiddle played, she became a child following behind the piper.
The two next to me watched, making comments.
I moved on from the beer to a shot of whiskey. I rolled my shoulders, the fabric stretched over them feeling too tight.
“That one there,” I said, smoothly entering their conversation, joining in where it left off. “She’s marriage material?” I chucked my chin in the direction of Scarlett.
“Sure,” no name one said, a smug grin on his face. “You still got to test the goods, though, know what I mean?”
“I don’t know, Carlos,” no name two said. “She seems like a good girl, but ain’t no girl move like that and not know what she’s doing under the sheets. I bet she’s a freak. But that’s what makes her marriage material. You get the best of both worlds, man. And I’m on the hunt. I’m going for her. She needs a real man—I’ll have her screaming out my name in no time. Look at her. She’s beggin’ for Big Johnny.”
Carlos and Johnny lifted their heads to the ceiling, howling. I howled with them. At the same time, my hand came behind Johnny’s head and brought it down on the bar. It happened so quick and so fast that Carlos still howled—half of Johnny’s body had gone limp over the bar, like he had passed out from too much drink.
“Shit,” Carlos said after he noticed, looking between Johnny and me. His eyes were hazed over, but the threat cut through. I wasn’t a man to give my cards up at once, but once I was ready, I showed my entire hand, not giving a fuck. It was wise to pay attention around me.
“Piece of advice.” I downed another whiskey.
“Y-yeah,” Carlos barely got out.
“Stop fucking staring at my wife and you’ll leave here with your heart still in your chest.”
“What’s going on here?” Mitch waltzed up in time to the music, glass of beer in his hand. He assessed the situation. “Did he just say that you’d leave here without your heart? Pff,” he slapped the air. “What he meant is that you’re in danger of falling in love. Either way, it’s safe to say you need to stop looking at our women and making asshole remarks.”
“Which one’s yours?” Carlos asked, eyes flicking from me to Mitch and then to Johnny. It didn’t seem like he wanted to touch him.
Mitch pointed to Violet. Valentina was at the table with Carmen, chatting it up.
