CHAPTER 3

Renner

My apartment door flies open as Cady and Teagan stroll in. Frick and Frack, Mutt and Jeff, Siegfried and Roy... where one went, the other was usually not far behind. They'd probably marry Siamese twins just so they could always stay together.

"Don't you ever knock or is it common practice to just barge into people's homes here?"

Cady and Teagan give identical eye rolls and proceed to ransack my kitchen. While Teagan is rooting through the fridge for something to eat, Cady is pouring herself a glass of Coke.

"We're family," Cady says. "There's no knocking on family homes. That's just the way of it. Besides, you shouldn't have given me a key if it bothers you."

I give her a grin and take an apple from a basket on my counter, taking a big bite. I watch as Teagan pulls out a bowl of something from the fridge, lifts the cover for a sniff, and then grimaces. She puts it back and closes the door.

Reminder to myself to check out what that was and throw it away.

"So, what kind of trouble should we get into today?" Teagan asks. "It's been awhile since we've all three had a day free together."

That's true. Cady's currently working on her Master's in Education at Trinity College and Teagan is an architect at a huge firm here in Dublin. It is rare indeed for the three of us to be able to spend some quality time with each other because they’re always working so hard.

Sometimes I feel so lame when I compare myself to Cady and Teagan. Both of them knew exactly what they wanted and went after it. Both are smart and successful. When I look at the train wreck that is my career, all I can do is hang my head in shame.

I graduated from a small college in upstate New York with a degree in Art History. Which basically meant I wouldn't have a single job prospect upon graduation. But that was okay by me—I really didn't want to do anything along those lines anyway. It just seemed like an interesting degree to get because I enjoyed art, I enjoyed history, and well... there you have it.

Had it not been for my parents' expectations that I go to college, I would have passed on it all together. By the time I graduated high school, I was just so tired of learning that I wanted a break. But I went, got my degree, and now it’s gathering dust somewhere.

The job with Delta was a fluke. I had a classmate in college that got hired and she loved it, so I applied and made it in. It was a job I seriously enjoyed, but one I didn't think I would be doing my entire life. It was fun, paid decent money, but it wasn’t very challenging to me.

And as that bitch fate would have it, it was indeed a short-lived job. I had been at Delta for less than a year before the shit hit the fan, and that career path was over.

"I say we go shopping, then lunch, and have a few bottles of wine," Cady says. She's sporting a new, shorter haircut, layered around her pixie face. It makes her blue eyes pop.

"Then let's come back here to your place after and disclose all of our dirty, sexy secrets," Teagan chimes in. "I had a hot date last weekend with one of my co-workers and he was hung like a race horse. I can't wait to tell you all about it."

Oh geez. The last thing I wanted to do was listen to Teagan recount her sexual escapades with Man O'War. Besides, that kind of talk would naturally lead to them probing into my love life, which is, for all intents and purposes, well... dead.

Cady dumps the rest of her Coke down my sink and picks up her purse. "That sounds like a good plan. Let's go. And I forgot to tell you, Renner, Mam would like you to come to dinner tonight if you can."

"Sure," I tell her. "I'm always up for some of your mom's cooking."

***

Cady and I are walking to her parents' house, which is fairly close to my apartment. Well, if you accept that fifteen blocks is fairly close. Still...it's a nice evening for a walk, and I can always take a cab home later. Plus, we did in fact have a few bottles of wine at lunch, then another at my apartment. Teagan finally called a cab and headed home, declining Cady's invitation to come eat at her parents'.

Cady and I are pretty buzzed and I'm sure Uncle Keefe and Aunt Shannon will have their hands full with us tonight. It's a good thing they own a pub...makes them a bit more understanding when we get drunk. I'm hoping the walk will clear most of the alcohol out of my system though, as I'm not looking forward to working tomorrow with a hangover.

"So, Teagan sounds like she enjoying her 'racehorse'," Cady remarks.

I can't help myself—I start snickering uncontrollably as I loop my arm through Cady's. I was trying so hard at lunch not to look uncomfortable as Teagan regaled us with the four different sexual positions her racehorse put her in after their date. I shouldn't be surprised because Teagan has always been sexually free and uninhibited. She's a beautiful girl with strawberry blond hair and blue eyes. She looks like innocent, but I'm betting she wears leather and chains under her business suit. And probably has a whip stuck in her briefcase.

Thinking about it, I start giggling again. "Teagan is so cool. I wish I could be more like her."

Cady looks over at me. "You do? Why?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I guess I'd just like to be a little more free... or wild. I've always played by the rules, you know?"

"There's nothing wrong with playing by the rules, Ren. Besides, Teagan will probably catch a disease and her lady parts will fall off."

That has both of us in fits of laughter, although I'm quite sure Teagan practices safe sex. I mean, the word condom came out of her mouth no less than seven times at lunch today.

But as my chuckles die down, I can't help but murmur, "I played by the rules with Cormac and look where that got me."

Cady stops walking and turns to face me. "Don't, Renner. That fucking ass-wipe broke the rules, not you. You just got caught in the crossfire. He's not worth the time or energy for you to even be thinking about him."

Sighing, I grab her arm so we can start walking again. "I know. I mean, deep down, I know. But it's so unfair how it all played out. I think I'm a loser magnet. What's wrong with me?"

"There nothing wrong with you, sweet girl. You've just had a run of bad luck, is all. Or maybe you're looking in the wrong places for the right kind of love."

Hmmmmm. That made me think.

My past relationships were always built on the theory that the more stable and responsible a man, the better partner he'd make for a long-term relationship. I'm not going to lie—I've always had that sweet dream of marrying a successful businessman, and living in the suburbs with a white picket fence, and three angelic children running around in the front yard with our perfectly groomed Golden Retriever named 'Beau'.

It's what I had envisioned when I met and started dating Cormac. He's a pilot with Delta and we met when I started on the Dublin route from JFK. He seemed to be the perfect candidate for my ideal relationship. He's educated, has a respectable, great career and makes good money. His hair is perfectly groomed and he is always neatly pressed. To my way of thinking, this practically equated to solid, relationship material.

But I was so wrong. So very, very wrong.

We finally make it to Cady's house, having ran the last two blocks when her mom called demanding to know why we were late and telling us that we were holding everyone up. We were both breathless by the time we crashed through the front door, giggling and holding on to each other so we weren't staggering too much.

"Come in to the dining room, girls. We're all in here," Aunt Shannon calls out.

Dropping our purses by the front door, we head that way, our arms still linked together. I'm looking at Cady as we walk in, as she is telling me about the time when Teagan was locked out of her apartment naked.

"It's about time you girls showed up. Look who we invited to have dinner with us!"

Both of us turn and my mouth falls open. Sitting at the dining room table is none other than Cillian. He still looks every bit the rock star with his lip rings gleaming, although he's actually wearing a pair of dress pants and shirt, I'm assuming out of respect to my Aunt and Uncle for their dinner invitation. He has a shit-eating grin on his face when our eyes make contact while he leans back in his chair, his arm casually draped over the chair to his right. I don't know if it's the wine, or if my senses are just assaulted by the perfectness of him sitting there, or maybe it's that diabolical grin he's shooting at me, but the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Why did you invite him?"

I hear Uncle Keefe make a coughing sound and Aunt Shannon reaches over and pops me on the back of the head. "Where are your manners, Renner Caldwell? Cillian is a welcome guest in our home. He's practically family."

Not in the least ashamed over my reaction to Cillian, I dutifully duck my head and mumble, "Sorry."

"That's a girl," Uncle Keefe says. "In fact, how about you sit over there by Cillian and play nice."

Cillian's grin gets even wider and he removes his arm from the chair so I can sit down. Having no choice, I take the seat offered and I can practically feel the triumph radiating off him.

As I scoot my chair in, he leans in to me to murmur so only I can hear, "You look sinful tonight, Renner. Father O'Grady would have me stapled to the confessional if he knew the direction my thoughts were takin' right now."

God help me, but his words cause my skin to hum and my head to swim. But I don't want him to know he affects me so I merely turn my head and glare at him. He holds my glare and doesn't flinch or look away. In fact, a leisurely smile slides onto his face before he turns to Uncle Keefe.

"I appreciate you letting us have our welcome home party at the pub last night, Keefe."

"It was my pleasure. You know you're welcome there any time. Have you given any thought to playing there this summer... for old time's sake?"

I tune out as they continue to talk and concentrate on eating my pot roast. I try to pay attention to something—anything—other than Cillian and his excruciatingly sexy presence sitting next to me. I make detailed work of cutting my roast up into perfectly sized bites. I quarter my potatoes and line them up in a circle. I place my carrots side by side and pretend they're an army getting ready to advance on the bread sitting on the edge of my plate. I'm trying for anything to take my mind off him, yet his nearness is still overwhelming.

It doesn’t take long and it always happens when you get the Gannon's together, but an argument of epic proportion breaks out. And one thing I've learned that will cause them to fight like cats in heat is rugby. When Uncle Keefe, Aunt Shannon, and Cady are reaching a fever pitch over whether Connacht will beat Leinster, Cillian uses the opportunity to talk to me.

Leaning slightly over and turning his face to me, he says, "You didn't honestly think you could hide from me, did you?"

I push a carrot around my plate and consider my answer for just a second. When I turn to look at him, I have to steel myself against the blatant sensuality I know will be waiting in his eyes. "I had hoped I could hide, but apparently I can't. Would it make any difference if I told you that it was a huge turn off the way you're stalking me?"

His lips curl up high and his tongue flicks out over his two lips rings. "It wouldn't make a difference to me. Besides, I know you’re lying to me and yourself. There's a part of you... maybe deep down... that's enjoying my attention. Besides, I never give up on going after what I want."

Gah, this guy is so arrogant and full of himself. And he's wrong. There is no part of me that enjoys his presence. I mean, he's gorgeous on a scale that even I can’t measure, and sure, he has the hot, rock-star vibe going, but I am so not interested in that.

It's not my ideal.

Wiping my mouth with my napkin, I look at him with determination. "Seriously Cillian... why me? Why not go pester some other woman with your attention?"

Cillian leans in closer so he's whispering, clearly not wanting the others to hear. "First, I'm not pestering you. I'm trying to make it clear that I want to fuck you into oblivion. Second, there is no other woman that I'm interested in. Clear enough for you?"

Swallowing hard, I merely nod my head. "But I'm not interested."

Leaning back in his chair, Cillian just grins at me. "Oh, you're interested all right. You're just not being honest with yourself about it."

My face flushes red. "Is it possible for you to be any more arrogant?"

I'm hoping the question shames him, but he merely shrugs his shoulders. "Probably not."

I go back to pushing the carrots around on my plate. The Gannons are still going full tilt on their argument and completely ignoring Cillian and me.

It's not long before he cuts into my thoughts again. "Why aren't you interested in me? Have I done something to offend you or make you mad?"

Squaring my shoulders, I tell him, "No, Cillian. You've done nothing to make me mad or offend me. I'm just not interested in someone like you, so you can stop pursuing me. The answer is no and that won't change."

"Someone like me?"

"A musician. I like my boyfriends a little more professionally balanced."

"Ouch. That hurts, love. But who said anything about me being your boyfriend? I'm just after a long, hot shag with you."

Trying to maintain my calm, not because his words anger me, but—God help me—because the thought of no strings, walk-away-when-we're-done sex is suddenly a thrilling prospect. Shoring up my resolve, I say instead, "Sorry... just not that type of girl."

Cillian just snickers but then I hear him say softly, "You could be that type of girl, Renner. If you just let yourself go. And I guarantee you'd enjoy it.”