“Older than I thought, but still too young for my thirty-two. I’m flattered, but I’ll pass.” She gathered the mop and the bucket she had neglected and tipped her head toward the staff room. “Excuse me. I should get ready forwork.”
Moira ignored the shadow which darkened the blue in his eyes when she pulled her hand out of the cocoon of his and scurried out of the bar. Her hands shook as she unbuttoned her old shorts and pulled the stained t-shirt over her head. She tossed them on the floor of the cramped staff bathroom. When she hoisted a leg to step into the black mini skirt of her uniform, Moira almost keeled over. She set her foot back on the ground and leaned against the wall, waiting for her shaky limbs to cooperate with herefforts.
Damn theguy.
She was safe in her illusion that she was immune to silly emotions, unattainable desires. Why the heck did Aidan have to pop up in her life and derail her secure existence? Her sex-freelife?
Boring as hell life?Teen Moirasuggested.
“Oh, shut the fuck up!” she uttered, as she donned the skirt and pulled on the white button-down shirt that completed the uniform. An elegant logo embroidered in golden thread set off the black apron she tied to herwaist.
She peered into the mirror andsighed.
Life sucked sometimes. She couldn’t foolherself.
As attractive as Aidan was, he was off-limits.
Too young, too foreigner, too close to her breadwinningplace.
Even if she overlooked the fact he was ten years her senior, Aidan could go back to his Ireland at any moment, leaving her behind. Or worse, she could screw up their relationship and lose her job. Noah and Tristan were fair bosses, but replacing a bartender would be much easier than a band member, if push came toshove.
Moira tied her hair in a tight bun at her nape and sighedagain.
It was a no-brainer. She would not get involved with AidanGallagher.
Period.
Caseclosed.
Too bad her heart and brain didn’t speak the samelanguage.
* * *
The damned mantested her decision all through her shift. Aidan plopped himself on a stool, nursed the same bottle of beer the whole time, and followed her every move. She ignored the way his knuckles turned white as he held the bottle. She didn’t engage when he talked to her, using the busy happy-hour as excuse every time he made a comment meant for her. At last, he gave up chatting, not so muchstaring.
She was exhausted when the shiftended.
Taking advantage of Aidan’s momentary distraction as he replied to something Noah asked him, Moira snuck out of the bar. She grabbed her backpack from the staff room, and left through the delivery door, not bothering to change into her civilclothes.
She drove her beat-up green Jetta like a manic through the packed streets at rush-hour.
Or like someone escaping herdemons.
Either way, her mind racedmore.
And it was all for nothing. Her demons lived inside her. They were goingnowhere.
Frustrated, she parked in her driveway, killed the engine, and leaned her forehead against the cool leather of the steeringwheel.
If only life weresimpler.
Shaking her head to disperse the illusions that insisted on setting up camp inside her head, Moira got out of the car, slung the backpack on a shoulder and ambled to Mrs. Oliveira’s house, two doors down the street fromhers.
Before she knocked on the front door, she heard Danielle’s and Felipe’sshrieks.
“Mom!”
Her heart swelled, as their footsteps scampered toward the door. They burst through it and pounced on her. She squatted and scooped them both in her arms, kissing their cheeks and hair. She inhaled their scent, her heart fluttered. Dani and Felipe were her life, her reality, her amazingkids.
