I rode in the front of Thom’s Volvo, Bláithín and Bailey sharing the back seat. Bláithín had turned twenty-two on Tuesday, and we were all going out to celebrate. When Thom asked me to join them, I’d first refused, not wanting to horn in on their celebration, but his argument that he wanted me along so people wouldn’t think he was robbing the cradle had convinced me to join in. Besides, it was Wednesday, and I hadn’t seen Thom since Sunday.

We were headed to Gastonia for dinner, a solid fifty-minute drive from Thom’s house. He had a special surprise planned for Bláithín, though she didn’t know it. Thom had been steadily introducing me to new experiences and expanding my horizons, but Heart and Soul, a restaurant famous for its southern cooking, was right up my alley. I’d never eaten there, but I’d heard the food was outstanding and I was looking forward to finding out if their fried chicken was all it was cracked up to be.

It was raining lightly when we backed out of Thom’s garage, and as we drove west, it began raining harder until it was pouring as we pulled into the parking lot.

“I’ll let you off at the door, and then go park the car. Bailey, go with the women.”

“I want to go with you to park the car.”

“And with both of us in the car, who’s going to protect Bláithín and Carolyn?”

“Dad,” he groaned.

“I’m serious,” Thom said as we rolled to a stop. “You’re taking jujitsu.”

“Oh, okay,” Bailey muttered, giving in.

I smiled but turned away so Bailey wouldn’t see it. He wasn’t buying Thom’s argument for a moment. I’d learned Bailey and Thom argued good naturedly, but Bailey always ended up doing what Thom wanted without Thom resorting to the ‘because I said so’ argument like my parents had done with me. Thom seemed to have a keen understanding of not only dogs but also little boys.

I opened the car door and dashed the short distance to the entrance, Bláithín and Bailey right behind me. I shook myself and fluffed my hair to shake out some of the water, Bailey and Bláithín doing similarly.

“How many?” the hostess asked.

“Four. I’m supposed to tell you we’re the Gregg party,” I said.

She brightened. “Oh, okay! Are you Bláithín?” She pronounced it Bla-thin.

“It’s Blaw-heen,” I corrected and nodded at Bláithín, “and that’s her.”

“Sorry, Bláithín,” she amended. “Right this way please.”

She led us to a large table in the corner that could seat at least eight. We were just getting settled when Thom stepped inside. I nudged Bláithín and nodded at the door. She grinned. Thom couldn’t be wetter if he’d fallen out of boat. The hostess pointed, he looked in our direction, and started toward us.

“Reminds me of home, the way it’s bucketing down,” Bláithín said as Thom arrived at the table.

He grinned. “Yes, well, if it’s still bucketing down, as you say, when we’re ready to leave, we may have to wait. I nearly drowned.”

“It looks like it,” I agreed, but truth be told, I thought he still looked pretty good.

“Mr. Gregg?” a man asked as he approached.

Thom leaned back and offered his hand. “That’s me.”

They shook. “Are you ready?”

“I think we are.”

“Your food will be out shortly then.”

Bláithín looked confused. “We didn’t order.”

Thom smiled. “I ordered for us. In honor of your birthday, I’m going to introduce you to a little southern culture. They’re going to bring out a little bit of a bunch of different things so you can try them all.”

He’d told me what was going to happen when he invited me to join them, and I smiled at her slightly dubious look. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll steer you to the good stuff. We’ll leave the chitterlings and collards for Thom.”

“I don’t know what those are.”

“Collards are kind of like spinach. I’m not a fan, but a lot of people like them. Chitterlings…you don’t want to know.”

She looked to Thom. “No chitterlings,” he said, pausing before continuing. “They’re pig’s intestine.”

“Like haggis?”

“Kind of, but without the meat and stuff inside.”

Bláithín scrunched her face. “I’ve never had the nerve to try haggis, and that sounds worse.”

Thom chuckled. “Yeah. I haven’t worked up the nerve to try them myself.”

A few minutes later, dishes began to arrive, served with sweetened iced tea. Bláithín took a sip and set her glass aside. “Gah! I’ve tried that before. It’s mankey.”

“What do you drink normally? Other than beer,” I clarified with a teasing smile.

She returned my smile. “Tea, but not the swill you serve here. We drink proper tea, with milk.”

Bláithín picked over the items. Other than the tea, it quickly became apparent if I liked it, she’d probably like it as well. The fried chicken was a big hit, as was the mashed potatoes, meat loaf, corn bread, pinto beans, southern fried steak, and the macaroni and cheese. She was less fond of black-eyed peas, fried okra, and fried catfish.

“How was your weekend off?” I asked as we ate. She blushed and I dabbed at my mouth with my napkin to hide my smile. It was pretty obvious she’d enjoyed it.

“It was good.”

I glanced at Thom, who shrugged. I wanted to roll my eyes. If it weren’t for sex, food, or sports, I’m not sure men would ever talk. If Bláithín were living with me I’d want all the juicy details, and from the way she was acting, there appeared to be some very juicy details indeed.

“Just good?” I teased.

She looked at her plate, but I could see the smile she was trying to hide. She was doing what I do when I thought about Thom. “Maybe a little better,” she allowed.

“That’s good. Someone new?

“Yeah. I stopped for lunch one day, while Bailey was in school,” she added, clearly for Thom’s benefit. “He was standing behind me in the queue. We started talking, he insisted on buying my lunch to welcome me to America, and since we were both eating alone, we sat together. Before we left, he asked me out. He said he liked my accent.”

“I can understand that,” Thom said. “I think most guys would.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I like his too. A drawl? Is that what you call it?”

“You like the southern drawl?” Thom asked, pushing his accent until it was as thick and slow as molasses.

She grinned. “It’s grand.”

I could tell she had more to say, but her eyes flicked to Bailey. He was ignoring us as he plowed his way through chicken and mac and cheese, but small ears missed little.

“What’s he do?”

“Do?” Bláithín asked.

“His job.”

“Oh. He said he owns a security business.”

“That’s interesting.”

I was dying to know more about Bláithín’s mystery man, but the conversation moved on to other things and Bláithín talked about Ireland instead. I had the feeling Thom and Bailey had heard most of it already, but I was fascinated. As she talked, the deserts began to arrive, and I’d put a visit to Ireland on my bucket list.

“Try this,” I suggested, snagging one of the two pecan pie slices for Bláithín. Pecan pie was one of my personal favorites.

She took a tentative bite and smiled. “That’s really grand!”

“Coffee?” our waiter asked.

“I’d like a cup,” I said.

“One for me as well,” Thom added.

“Do you have hot tea?” Bláithín asked, her eyes begging.

“Uh, I’ll have to ask.”

“Perhaps a cup of hot water and a teabag?” she asked hopefully.

“Let me see what I can do.”

Bláithín grinned. “While he sorts that out, I’m going to the jacks.”

I looked to Thom and Bailey for an explanation.

“Toilet,” Thom said.

“Oh! I think I’ll join her.”

I stood and followed Bláithín. She was just entering a stall when I opened the door. We took care of business and paused at the mirror.

“Tell me about this mystery man. Is he good looking?” I asked as I tried to fix my hair now that it wasn’t wet.

She smiled as she touched up her makeup. “He’s older, but still a fine thing. He rides a motorcycle. He took me for a ride this weekend. It was the first time I’d ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle. It was a Harley and it was savage!”

“Savage? Is that good?”

She looked at me in the mirror, her face crinkling. She was trying to play it cool, but there was more to the story than she was telling. “Very.”

I touched up my lips. “Was his hog the only thing you rode?”

She blushed furiously. I had my answer before she said a word. “No.”

I watched her in the mirror. “Did you like it?”

She looked at my reflection, her eyes dancing as her face split with a huge smile. “It was amazing.” She paused and checked for feet in the stalls before continuing. “It was everything I thought it would be. We stopped Saturday evening in a motel somewhere, and we spent the entire night shagging. He probably thinks I’m a slag.” She must have seen the confusion on my face. “A whore.”

“It wasn’t your first time, was it?”

“No, but it was the first time with an American.”

“And?” I prompted.

“And…the lads back home could learn a thing or two…or maybe I just like someone with a little more experience.”

She was beaming, and I couldn’t help but smile with her. “What’s his name? Maybe I know him.”

“Randy. Randy something. Carson. Cardon. Something like that.”

“Probably Carson. That’s a common name.” I shook my head. “Don’t recognize the name off the top of my head, so he’s probably not one of my regulars. What kind of bike?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. A Harley-Davidson. It was black.”

That narrowed it down to most of them. “Did it have saddle bags and a windshield?”

“No.”

“So either a Dayna or a Softail then, probably.”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“I think so. I couldn’t get away with Thom out of town, but now that he’s back…”

I nodded. “That’s good. A girl needs her toes curled now and then.”

“He can certainly do that.” She paused and licked her lips. “Are you and Mr. Gregg…?”

It was my turn to blush. “Yeah.”

“I thought so. He seems very happy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He’s always been a nice, friendly guy. But since you came over for spaghetti that night, he’s been even more, what’s the word, playful maybe.” She looked down. “I can understand why. You’re so beautiful.”

“Oh stop,” I scolded.

“No really. You’re like a model. Not like me.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re very pretty.”

“You think? I’m so skinny and—”

“Do you know how many American women would kill their first born to have a body like yours?”

She grinned. “I don’t mean to sound judgmental, but most Americans are fat.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Especially here in the south.” I nodded at the door. “But can you blame us? Look at how we eat.”

“You’re not fat.”

“No, but I’ve started running with Thom so I don’t get that way.”

“I like Mr. Gregg,” she said, and she had a slightly wistful look about her.

I bobbed my head in agreement. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“He’s handsome too. Different from Randy, but still…”

“What’s Randy like?”

“How I imagine an American biker to be. Leather jacket, sun glasses, boots.”

That described most Harley riders. “I seem to recall you like the bad boy look.”

“Is that what you call it? Yes, I do. It’s very…American, and very sexy.”

I wanted to warn her about bad boys, but it was none of my business. Besides, even doctors and lawyers liked to dress up and play bad boy when they were tooling around on their hogs. Maybe he was a poser. I hoped so for her sake.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” I replied.

“What’s Mr. Gregg like?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what’s he like when Bailey isn’t around.”

“You mean, what’s he like in bed?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer that.

“No, not that so much. I just wonder what he’s like when I’m not around. He treats me…I don’t know how to describe it, maybe like I’m part of his family.” She glanced at the door. “Taking me out for my birthday? He gave me two-hundred and fifty dollars as a gift yesterday. I just work for him. I don’t understand why he treats me the way he does, giving me money, taking me out for dinner on my birthday, treating me almost like he treats his own son, so I wondered if he was like that with you.” She blushed again. “I mean, other than you two sleeping together, or course.”

“I think what you see is how he is.” I paused, but if I was ever going to ask the question, now was the time. “Has he ever tried to…?”

She knew exactly what I was implying. “No. Never.”

“Then I think you have your answer. When I first met you, I was a little put off by you living there. He told me to think of you as his daughter. I think, in a way, he does feel some responsibility for you. I think that’s just the kind of guy he is.”

She nodded. “When I first arrived, I was scared to death. I was so afraid I would do or say something wrong and offend him, or someone else. He’s been very kind and patient with me. I know his neighbors think I’m sleeping with him, but he tells me to ignore them. I’m going to be sorry to go home when my time is up. He treats me better than my own family does.”

She looked down. I could tell she liked it here. “Should we go? Thom is probably wondering what we’re doing in here.”

She perked up. “Yes. I could use a cuppa.”

“Cuppa?”

“Cup of tea.”

I smiled, wondering how we could share a common language and her still be so hard to understand.

It had almost stopped raining by the time we left, and the four of us engaged in lively conversation most of the way home. I liked Bláithín, and I didn’t begrudge her getting the hard one, but she was going to have to share the weekends.

I certainly didn’t love Thom, but I did want him. I enjoyed his company tremendously, even when he wasn’t working me into a froth in the bedroom, but that didn’t mean I was willing to let her have all the fun.

It wasn’t my place to say anything, but if Thom started giving her every weekend off, we were going to have to work out another arrangement. Clearly Thom wasn’t ready for me to spend the night in his bed, probably because of Bailey, but waking up in his arms like I had in San Diego was something I needed a lot more of in my life.