Cillian (The Kelly Brothers #2) - Megan Wade Page 0,3

curvy lass from before.

“Want some?” I ask, gesturing to the plate in front of me. She shakes her head.

“You look like you need the food more than I do,” she says, giving me a hint of a shy smile as she moves a little closer. “I was just, uh, hoping we could finish our conversation now that the shift is over. You were telling me about how short you are.”

I let out a laugh as I nod, chewing what’s in my mouth before I speak again. “Scintillating conversation.”

She shrugs and leans against the benchtop. “I found it interesting.”

“More interesting than being out there?” I ask, nodding to the doorway where some raucous laughter filters in from the bar.

“It’s weird out there,” she says, scrunching her cute nose up a bit. “I don’t think I fit in that well.”

I prepare my sandwich for another bite. “Because you’re new?” As my mouth wraps around the sandwich and I bite down, I can’t help but notice the way her eyes watch me and her pink tongue sneaks out to lick her lips. She’s either hungry or turned on. And I’m hoping it’s the latter since that’s where I am right now too. Turned on and hungry. I haven’t paid much attention to women for…shit, I don’t even want to count how long. But it’s been awhile. And something about this girl has my synapses firing.

“I guess.” She shrugs again. “And maybe because I crave quiet. It’s so loud out there all night that I think I’m too drained to mingle and make friends the way my fa— ah, the way I probably should.” She clears her throat, her big blue eyes looking up at mine. I get this sudden image of her doing that in front of me on her knees and I have to look away. “Are you in here because you crave the quiet too?”

I smile. She’s so fucking adorable. “I’m in here because George ordered me to eat. I skipped the meal before shift and he doesn’t feel like he’s done his job if he sends one of us home without food in our gut.” I hold my half-eaten sandwich up like it's the proof I need.

“I didn’t think I saw you during the team meal. I guess that makes you Cillian, huh? Your name came up quite a bit in your absence.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“More, ‘Where’s Cillian? Why isn’t Cillian here? Cillian is always here!’ I guess that means you were missed.” She gives me a small smile that accentuates the pink in her cheeks. My fingers burn to touch her…whoever she is…

“I haven’t caught your name, lass.”

Her grin goes wider. “I actually like it when you call me ‘lass’, so let’s just go with that.”

I wipe a napkin across my mouth as I laugh, intrigued by her. “I can’t call you lass forever. It’s a generic term, and I don’t think you’re generic at all.”

She drops her eyes, but I can see the heat glowing off her cheeks. “What would you call me then?”

“Your name.” I smile. “That would be a start. Failing that, the term a stór comes to mind.”

Her eyes lift to mine. “What does ‘Uh Store’ mean?” she whispers.

“Google it,” I say, dropping my plate in the dishwasher. “Then maybe you can tell me when I pick you up Monday.”

She frowns. “What’s Monday?”

“It’s my night off.”

“Are you…are you asking me on a date?” she asks, seeming unable to control the smile spreading across her features.

“Seems that way,” I say, swiping a cloth across the counter. “I will need your name and address of course. But how does eight sound?”

“It sounds—”

“Hazel!” The booming voice of George cuts into our moment, startling us both when he bursts through the doors. “There you are,” he says, turning to who I’m assuming is Hazel. Hazel…Why do I know that name? My memory throws out the information just before it’s confirmed in front of my eyes. “Hiding in the kitchen from your old man? Are you ready to go home?” Hazel is George’s daughter. Shit.

Her eyes flick to mine, and the blush on her face is now a flush of embarrassment. I turn away as reality hits me square in the chest. Hazel is George’s eighteen-year-old daughter. And I, a thirty-three-year-old man, just asked her out. Fuck. I’m a dirty old man and I didn’t even know it.

“Would you mind locking up when you’re finished, Cillian?” George asks, and I nod, not willing to open my mouth or risk looking