She fought back hard against the mixture of panic and desire within her. How long, how many sleepless nights had 14-year-old Caitlin Murphy spent imagining what it would be like to stand here in his arms and to have his eyes undressing her in this way.
“No one asked what I wanted or what I was opposed to,” she said breathlessly, unable to make her voice stronger as her body betrayed her. Her hands slid around to his sides, fixed tightly in his flannel shirt and jerked their bodies together. Even as her mind fought back,no this is a bad idea,her body continued to move and mold against his as her hands slid off the flannel shirt, moved up the firm lines of his body and wrapped tightly around his neck. He murmured something in surprise. But she couldn't hear it and found that she didn't care much.
He seemed to regain his balance and his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, closing what little space there was between them. His lips roamed from her mouth to her throat, sending tantalizing waves of pleasure rippling through her body.
“This is wrong.” She managed to choke out a gasp. His hands worked their way up over her soft sweater cupping her breasts.
“Doesn't feel wrong to me.” He groaned. He pressed her body hard against the wall and covered her with his. Her pulse pounded painfully through her body. His hand slid off and around her throat, tangling in the hair at the back of her neck, devouring the delicate skin there.
“Caitlin.” Her father's familiar voice called as his boots made their way up the cellar steps.
“Oh Christ!” She gasped as she used every ounce of strength in her to shove hard at the male body that was threatening to take her there against the wall. She had been perilously close to letting him.
“Sweetheart.” Her father called as the door opened, and she shoved her hair back and scrubbed her hands over her face, hoping somehow the motion would lend an explanation for the flush of color in her skin. “I know it's hard for you, and you probably think it's some kind of boys club, but I promise you it's no such thing. It's just business.” Confused for a moment, Caitlin stared between the two men. Daniel was a full head taller than her father, though still shy of six feet tall. Then she narrowed her eyes as she remembered what had led her to storm out of the cellar and up here in the first place.
“It's 2020 Dad,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “I don’t need a husband to own a business,” she said, throwing a dangerous glance at Daniel, daring him to speak. “I don't need anyone to teach me how to runmybusiness,” she said, before she could stop herself, suddenly remembering that as much as she wanted it to be hers, as much as she had earned it and deserved it, it was still her father's.
“Watch yourself, lass,” her father said, and though his tone was calm, his eyes held the warning that only a father could give to a daughter. “Respect your elders. And Daniel,” he said as he strode away before casting a final glance over his shoulder, “If you're going to paw on my daughter like some sex-crazed teenager, have the decency to do it behind closed doors where a guest can't see. I can't afford a health code violation this close to the festival.” Turning on his heel her father walked away, leaving her gaping in horror.
“How did he?” she asked breathlessly.
“I don't know,” Daniel said and looked back over his shoulder where his father stood in the doorway of the cellar, his deep blue eyes full of humor. He said nothing. Rory nodded his head to both of them and followed after his lifelong friend.
“This doesn't change anything,” she said as she slid her hands into her pockets, refusing to let them reach forward and claim what a deep part of her longed for.
“Of course not,” he said, “It clearly just confirms the collective hypothesis.”
“Sorry? What's that?” she asked, as he straightened his shirt and slid long fingers through his tousled chestnut hair.
“That we would be good together.” He flashed her a dangerous grin and stalked away, leaving her breathless in the hallway. Her hand pressed to her racing heart.
What the hell had just happened? Seems like in a matter of twenty-four hours her entire world toppled over. The inheritance she felt entitled to, this very business that lay under her feet was being yanked out from under her. She'd been told she had to marry now, instead of marrying someone she would love at the right time in her life. She was being ushered to the one man whose sole purpose on this planet had been to annoy her. And then, to make it even worse, her own body betrayed her in the hallway, and she’d been prepared to offer up so much more.
What was she going to do? She groaned, and rubbed clammy hand over her dry eyes. Screw him. She knew exactly what she was going to do. Screw them all. She was going right out there and run her business like the badass she was. She would focus on the things she could handle, the drunk customers, the handsy foreigners, opening and closing shop. She would show them that she could run this business on her own and she didn't need help from anyone.
Scooping her hair back on top of her head and securing the loose bun, she straightened her cable knit sweater and strode purposefully back into the main area of the pub,
Caitlin took in the sights that she knew she would find. Laughing couples, slobbering drunks, a casual loner looking for a friendly face to take home for the night to warm her bed and forget about in the morning.
“Hey there, Lassie, how about another one?” came the boisterous laughter of two brawny men at the bar Caitlin did not recognize either. She knew that she would need to cut them off here soon. While she felt herself fully capable of interrupting a bar fight, it wasn't exactly something that she looked forward to doing. And certainly didn't feel dignifying.
“How about tea?” she called, and stepped behind the counter, sliding away their empty beer bottles, and pulled out two mugs from under the counter.
“How about your number?” crooned the larger man, offering her a sloppy smile.
“I think we'll stick with tea,” she said with a small smile before she turned away and listened to the men argue behind her, seemingly harmless enough. But as she turned back around, she stared dumbfounded. In the five seconds that it had taken her to fill a single mug of coffee it had somehow ended up in a fight to the death between two men, one locked into a surprising headlock.
“What the hell is going on here?” she demanded, and looked quickly around the room, surprised not to see Daniel, Rory, or her father around. No matter what, it was a great opportunity for her to prove herself. She could handle them if she was truly to take over Murphy's pub. This was something she would have to do on her own.
9
Daniel
As Daniel flippedthrough a stack of files in the pub’s cramped, dingy back office, his concentration was abruptly broken by the sound of glass shattering coming from the front of the pub. A few muffled screams that he couldn’t quite make out accompanied the crashing noise.
“...The hell?” Daniel quickly pushed his chair out from under the desk and stood up from where he was sitting. He opened the office door and ran towards the source of the noise: two men that appeared to be in their mid-30s were drunkenly shouting in the face of one of the pub’s waitresses, a diminutive blonde 22-year-old with tears streaming down her face in stunned silence. A beer bottle was shattered on the floor beside them, leaving a puddle of liquid and glass shards in its wake on the wooden floor.
Caitlin stood between them, her arms spread out as wide as she could manage to separate them and keep the younger woman safe, but the two men were becoming more belligerent and aggressive by the second.
