of hers? It hit him like a punch, straight to his gut. It didn’t matter if it was the mischievous sort, or the pensive, thoughtful kind. Every time she smiled and her dark eyes crinkled up like that, it just got to him.
Clearing his throat, he said, “You want me to take you to your car? I’m following you home, just so you know. So I can either take you home now, or follow you home, it doesn’t matter, but...”
She reached over and laid a finger across his lips. “I’m hungry. How about you take me to get some food, instead?” She glanced around and said, “Assuming the snow hasn’t shut the city down.”
He caught her wrist. “Nah. This place doesn’t shut down that easily.” He really should take her home. She was tired—the bruised look under her eyes more than told him that. And she looked fragile, even though he knew she was anything but.
But he wasn’t about to pass up a chance to spend some more time with her.
“Although, you realize, this doesn’t count as a date. This is just getting food. You still owe me a date.”
“Typical lawyer,” Rocki sighed. But she was smiling.
“So what happened with you and Mara?”
She had a heaping bowl of Irish stew in front of her, a glass of Harp, and a fire crackling not too far away. As far as she was concerned, it was the ideal way to spend a Friday night—providing she didn’t think about earlier.
She hadn’t expected him to take her to Molly Flanagan’s, but the sight of it had made her smile. She loved this place. The Irish-style pub was packed, too, all but bursting at the seams as they made their way inside.
Cole had gone for a Guinness and a burger, and glanced at her now as she snatched a few of his fries. He scowled at her. Rocki decided then and there that they really did need to have a second date. It felt too right not to.
If everything else went okay.
“Mara...” Cole sighed. He wiped his fingers on his napkin and lifted his Guinness, but didn’t drink. Instead, he studied the half-empty glass, as though it held the answers to the universe. “Have you ever known somebody who could go from being one thing to being something else...completely?”
Rocki lowered her gaze. Her heart bumped against her ribs. “Maybe.”
“It wasn’t a quick thing. Quick...well, that probably would have made me leave sooner, and it wouldn’t have been so hard, maybe. Might have gotten ugly at first. But...” Scowling, he studied his drink. Long moments passed before he finally shifted his gaze up to meet hers. “She didn’t used to be so miserable—I’m not talking outright mean, because she could always be a bitch when she wanted. It’s just that lately, she just wanted to be a bitch more often than not. She never used to be that way. She used to be happy. Or happier, or least. I don’t know when that started to change.”
“It makes you sad.”
“Yeah.” He sat the glass down and leaned back into his chair, turning his head to stare into the fire. They were tucked into one of the smaller alcoves and it was mostly quiet, rather private. They could hear the muffled music and the roar of other voices, but nothing distinct. “It’s not that I have regrets about ending it, because I don’t. Maybe I only regret not seeing this sooner. But I hate that somebody I used to love is so unhappy now.”
Then he shoved a hand through his hair. “Not exactly good dinner conversation, considering I plan on convincing you to go on another date, right?”
“Well, technically, this isn’t a date.” She smiled at him as she lifted her glass. “We were both hungry. So we’re eating.”
She took a drink and then set her glass down, staring at him. “I’m sorry. Regardless of whether you still love Mara or not, I can tell it bothers you. So I’m sorry.” Then she wrinkled her nose. “Even though I don’t much care for her.”
“Hell. I don’t much care for her these days,” he muttered. Then, he shot Rocki a quick look. “The woman I fell in love with...I don’t think she exists anymore. I don’t know what happened to her, but she’s not the one I’ve been living with the past few months.”
Silence fell over the table for a few minutes, broken only by the rest of those in the crowded pub. Rocki, her appetite all but dead,