Chapter Four
Reena waved at Padraig and Slade, both busy behind the bar, as she led Rush through the pub. Every bar stool and booth were taken, however there were a few empty tables at the back of the room. Weaving her way through, she reached the first empty one and slid into a seat. Rush took the chair next to her instead of across and shuffled it close before leaning toward her.
“You’re right. This place is great. I feel like I’m in an authentic Irish pub.”
She smiled, glad he liked Pat’s. She was even happier he sat so close their legs and arms brushed together. “Mr. Collins is proud of his Irish heritage. He and Sunday wanted the place to have all the characteristics of a true Irish pub. They both worked in one before they came to America.”
“I’ve been in a few Irish pubs over the years, and other than the couple I visited during my one trip to Ireland, this is the best one I’ve come across.”
Pride flooded her. She might not be a Collins and this might not be her place but she felt a connection to it and she was delighted Pat’s impressed Rush.
“Hey. I thought you’d gone home.” Caitlyn materialized beside her, a huge smile on her face. “And who’s this?”
“I thought you went home too,” Reena said.
“Nope. Mom needed a hand next door and she volunteered me.”
“Oh. It’s still busy? Do they need me to work?” Reena tried to look through the opening into Sunday’s but from this table, the angle wasn’t right, and she couldn’t see more than a couple of tables. All of them full. “I could do another shift if necessary.”
“Nah. It was just some prep work. They’ve got it under control.” Caitlyn nudged her with an elbow. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you avoided my question.” Her friend held out her hand and leaned across the table. “Hi. I’m Caitlyn Wallace.”
“Rush.” He pushed to his feet and shook Caitlyn’s hand. “Rush Whelan.”
“Well, well, Mr. Whelan, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Caitlyn’s smile and knowing glance had Reena stumbling to divert what would certainly be an inquisition. “We’re here for dinner. Any chance we’ll get a table next door?”
“Sure. I’ll put your name on the list then bring you a drink. On the house, in honor of your special guest.”
Reena groaned when Caitlyn added an exaggerated wink to her offer.
Rush remained silent until Caitlyn walked away.
“She’s exactly how you described her.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah, to a T.” He grinned. “I’m expecting some lawyerly type cross examination to go with the drink.”
“Oh god.” Reena closed her eyes. “This was a bad idea.”
“No it wasn’t. It’s perfect. I get to meet the people you’re close to and experience the best pub in Baltimore.”
“Good to hear you say that, son.” Mr. Collins clapped a hand on Rush’s shoulder. “Who’s your friend, Sabreena?”
“Mr. Collins.” Reena lifted out of her seat and reached for the older man’s elbow.
“Stay where you are, missy, I don’t need help to stand on my own two feet.” Mr. Collins pulled out the seat on the other side of Rush and sat down while muttering about young whippersnappers and not being dead.
“Now, Pop Pop, don’t go making a fuss because people care about you.” Caitlyn appeared with four pints of Guinness expertly balanced on a tray.
“Caitie-bug, caring ain’t the same as mollycoddling.” Mr. Collins folded his arms and aimed a penetrating stare at Rush. “We’ve not seen you around here before,” he said, the words holding a challenge.
“No. I’m not from around here.” Rush’s smile showed amusement, which eased Reena’s anxiety. “I live in New York.”
“The city?” The Collins patriarch reached for one of the pints Caitlyn set on the table.
“No, upstate. A small lakeside town in the Adirondack Mountains to be exact.”
“Ah. Isn’t that where you went on holiday, Sabreena?” Mr. Collins’s gaze moved to Reena. “You bring a stray home with you?”
“Pop Pop, that’s not polite,” Caitlyn said.
If Reena weren’t so freaked out by Mr. Collins’s interest, she’d find him referring to Rush as a stray funny. “He didn’t come home with me.”
“I drove down today. Reena piqued my interest so much with all she’d told me about Baltimore, this place in particular, that I had to come see it for myself.”
“I bet Baltimore isn’t the only thing you’re interested in seeing,” Caitlyn mumbled beside her.
“What was that, Caitie-bug?”
“Nothing, Pop Pop.” Caitlyn hid her smile behind her pint glass.
“The name’s Rush Whelan.” Rush offered a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Collins. I’ve heard a lot about you and your pub. All good things, I assure you. I’m even more impressed, now I’ve seen the place.”
“Well now, that’s mighty kind of you to say.” Mr. Collins’s chest puffed out. “I pride myself on having the best Irish Pub outside of Ireland.”
“In my experience, you definitely do.” Rush picked up his Guinness. “Here’s to the luck of the Irish.”
Mr. Collins grinned and tapped his glass to Rush’s. “We’ll be seeing if you’ve got the luck soon enough.”
Reena’s gaze darted to Caitlyn’s. Silently she pleaded for help, although it quickly became obvious she wouldn’t be getting any from her friend. Caitlyn appeared as interested in Rush as Mr. Collins.
She hadn’t had a father to interrogate her boyfriends when she’d started dating, not that Reena had done all that much, but if he had been alive, Reena guessed it would have gone something like this.
One of the reasons she felt so attached to the Collins family patriarch was he reminded her of her father. Or how she thought she remembered her father.
She frowned.
It was hard to say what was real memory and what wasn’t. For years, she’d admired the fatherly traits all the older Collins men exhibited, and maybe she’d wished enough to make up those same characteristics in her memories of her dad. She’d never know.
The only remaining link to her father was a grumpy old aunt who had turned her back on an eight-year-old orphan while screaming “don’t darken my door ever again”.
“Hey, you okay?” Rush brushed a finger along her jaw to get her attention. “Did we bore you with our pub talk?”
“Oh no, it’s fine.” She smiled, hoping he’d go back to talking with Mr. Collins.
Rush’s brow creased with concern. “Maybe we should go home. You look tired.”
Widening her smile, Reena forced false cheer into her voice. “No. I’m fine. Besides, we need to eat and I’ve got nothing in the house.”
“And we all know you and kitchens don’t mix well,” Caitlyn said.
“Oh?” Rush cocked an eyebrow, the corresponding side of his mouth kicking up in that sexy way of his.
She moved her gaze off his smiling lips and concentrated on the conversation, not the scandalous thoughts those lips inspired. “I’m not much of a cook. Basic things are the limit of my culinary skills.”
“Which is why I get to see your pretty face so often. Want me to tell Riley to make your favorite?” Mr. Collins asked as he stood. “I’m heading that way to grab some supper myself.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Wait up, Pop Pop.” Caitlyn downed the last of her beer. “I think I’ll eat with you tonight. I’ll get one of the waiters to bring your dinner in here, Reena, that way you won’t have to worry about switching tables or waiting. Two of your usual?”
“I—”
“Sounds perfect, Caitlyn. Thank you.” Rush held out his hand for Mr. Collins. “It was a pleasure, sir. Maybe we could chat some more while I’m here visiting Reena.”
“Oh, you can bet your britches we will, Rush Whelan. You park your behind on one of those stools at the bar before you leave Baltimore and we’ll have ourselves a nice long chat.”
“I look forward to it,” Rush said with a smile.
Reena wasn’t sure if the two of them talking more was a good thing or not.
***
Rush leaned back, one arm slung across the back of Reena’s chair, the other cradling his bulging stomach, and groaned. He had to admit he’d just eaten the best meal of his entire life. And he’d eaten at some five-star places in his time. “Damn that was good.”
“It always is,” Reena said before popping the last bite of Irish stew in her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed, the sound vibrating low in his belly.
She’d been making sexy little noises throughout dinner, and he wasn’t sure how he’d kept his hands off her.
Okay, so he hadn’t kept his hands off her completely.
He’d spent a lot of the time brushing against her—his thigh, his arm, his hand, his fingers—they’d all managed to touch her at some point since their food had been set down in front of them. At least he’d kept his mouth off her.
For an innocent, she had an inherent sexuality that got his blood boiling. He expected once they got in bed, she’d be wild. He’d been with enough women to know a natural sensualist when he saw one. She hadn’t discovered the depth of that part of herself yet. Rush couldn’t wait to be the man to help her find out how hedonistic she could be.
Maybe that was what had drawn him to Reena so quickly. She’d sat at his bar with a glass of wine and caressed it in a sensual manner. As though stroking the cool, smooth stem gave her as much pleasure as the fruity liquid she sipped and savored as if it were the most amazing thing she’d ever tasted.
That first night he’d wanted to lean over the bar and do some tasting of his own. And he’d been craving the same ever since.
No doubt about it. He needed to do some serious contemplating this week. He had six days to work out what he wanted, and if Reena wanted the same.
Six days. It didn’t seem enough.
He’d had two weeks with her before, and then hadn’t lasted one week without her. Rush had the sinking feeling that driving away on Saturday would be the hardest thing he’d ever done. It would be far more difficult than leaving home at seventeen without a penny to his name—and that had been rough.
No. He already knew where things between them were going. Walking away from Reena wasn’t an option. Whatever happened this week, when he hit the road Saturday morning, it wouldn’t be the end of them.