His gaze drifts to me, then back to her. ‘No. We’re miles away. By the time we get home, this will have all blown over.’ He touches her shoulder. ‘Relax. I’ve got you.’
A sliver of jealousy ripples through me.
What the fuck?
It takes me a long beat to process.
Iwantto be the one to protect her. Iwillbe the one who protects her. I won’t let her out of my sight for the rest of this holiday.
I don’t even know her name, yet she’s stirring all sorts of primal urges in me.
Tate and her lock eyes for a minute, seemingly exchanging an entire conversation. Then she nods, and he drifts back to the other side of the bar, giving us some privacy.
‘Sorry about that.’ She lifts her glass again. I refilled it because, man, she looked like she needed it.
‘Don’t be. Life can be complicated and ugly at times. I’m just glad you’re here, this side of the world.’ I lift my beer to my lips. ‘With me.’
Her eyes meet mine. I glimpse something in them I’venever seen before—vulnerability. And it rips my heart right out of my chest. ‘Me too,’ she straightens her spine, attempting to recompose herself. ‘It just came as a shock, you know? We have a rule in our family: two consecutive calls means we have a problem.’
‘You’re close to your family.’ I surmise, drinking in every detail of her flawless face.
‘Yes. They drive me crazy sometimes, but they’re everything to me. We’d kill for each other. Die for each other. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.’ She shrugs. ‘What about you, California? Do you have a family?’
I blow out a breath. ‘Unfortunately, I do.’ We’re not supposed to be getting into the deep and meaningfuls but given what she just told me, it seems only fair I share. ‘My brother, Luke, is a drug addict. He squanders his inheritance on fast cars, loose women and as much coke as he can physically snort up his nose. And my mother, well, she’s about to embark on her third marriage in as many years.’ I lift my glass to my lips.
‘Families, right?’ Irish shakes her head and purses her lips together. ‘What about your father?’
Her question hits me like a punch to the gut.
I wince.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It was my idea to keep things light between us, and here I am asking questions I have no right to know the answers to.’
‘No, it’s fine.’ I wet my lips. ‘My father passed on. Four years ago. Heart attack. One minute he was here, the next he was gone.’
‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ Sympathy softens her voice. ‘My father suffered a heart attack several years ago too. He was lucky my mother was there. Now she has him on a strict salad and lean protein diet, and makes him walk ten kilometres a day.’ Her affection for her family is written all over her face.
‘Life can be cruel. That’s why we have to make the most of the good days.’ I raise my glass and tip it against hers.
‘Amen to that.’ Her eyes flare as the colour begins to slowly return to her cheeks.
‘Don’t pretend you’re religious now, Irish.’ I tease, determined to lighten the mood. Whatever’s going on with her family, they’re a long way away from here. ‘Not when you let me fuck you six ways to Sunday last night.’
I’m rewarded with a burst of laughter that stirs something in my chest. ‘Keep plying me with the good stuff,’ she raises her glass, ‘and I’m pretty sure tonight will be the same.’
‘Maybe there is a God after all.’
Chapter Thirteen
ZARA
California did in fact fuck me six ways to Sunday after our drinks in the bar on Monday night.
And Tuesday night.
And Wednesday night, too.
Since James’s phone call, we’ve been joined at the hip—literally—for a lot of that time.
