Wild Chance (Wilder Irish #13) - Mari Carr Page 0,28

turned me down. But then, last Sunday…” She paused, debating whether or not this was the sort of thing she should talk about on a first date. Then she decided to heck with it. Maybe a man’s perspective would help.

“Last Sunday?” Joe prompted.

“He came over to help me pick out an outfit for a date I was going on. Then he offered to help me practice my small talk.”

“He must be a great teacher, because I wouldn’t have thought you’d need any help with that. You’re easy to talk to.”

“So are you. I’ve had a lot of fun tonight,” she said. “The thing is, Paddy also…well, he kissed me good night. Said it was practice too. But…”

“It didn’t feel like practice.”

Emmy shrugged. “Or maybe I just don’t want to believe that’s all it was.”

“You’ve got it bad for the guy.”

She nodded slowly. “But I know he doesn’t feel the same way, so I’m moving on.”

“Moving on, huh? Tell you what. I’m going to make you a promise right here and now.”

“What kind of promise?” she asked.

“I promise to make you a very, very happy woman tonight.”

Emmy liked the sound of that and she could now see why, according to his sister, Joe was so successful with women.

Emmy really liked him. She liked all the Morettis, actually. They were loud and brash and opinionated but, as her mother liked to say, “good people.”

Unfortunately, she was doing the same thing to Joe as she had to Brian on Wednesday. Holding him up to the Padraig standard when what she really needed to do was get her head in the game.

Joe was charming, funny, sexy as sin and, if Layla was to be believed, a confirmed bachelor who wasn’t looking for anything more than a good time. So maybe she’d been a fool for accepting a date with him. After all, she was dating with an eye toward a relationship that would hopefully—eventually—lead to marriage and a family.

Or…maybe it was time she stopped trying so hard to find a boyfriend—her mom always said the best way to find something was to stop looking too hard—and focused her energy on getting laid instead. She was long overdue, and Joe seemed like the perfect man for a hot one-night stand. Unlike her last one, Emmy was pretty damn sure she wouldn’t regret spending the night with Joe for a single second.

Besides, it was past time for her to double down on her plan to move forward. No more Padraig comparisons. It wasn’t fair to her dates. Yvonne said she’d need to kiss a lot of frogs to find her prince, and while Joe was a million miles away from a frog, she wasn’t so green in the dating arena not to know he wasn’t “the one.”

But he could be her segue. Sex with a gorgeous, charismatic man to get her feet—and other parts—wet, and then she’d set up another date tomorrow with one of the guys from the dating app.

“Very happy, hmmm? And how do you propose to do that?” she asked.

Before Joe could respond, Yvonne, who was carrying a tray of empty drinks slipped on a wet spot on the floor near their booth. While she didn’t fall, several of the glasses on the tray tipped over and half a glass of water splashed down Emmy’s left side.

Yvonne gasped. “Oh my God, Emmy! I’m so sorry.”

Emmy laughed, brushing off as much of the wetness as she could with her hand. “It’s okay, Vonnie. It’s only water.”

“Let me get a towel.”

Emmy waved her off. “No. I’m just going to pop into the restroom and grab some paper towels to dry off. Excuse me for just a moment, Joe.”

“When you get back, what do you say we hit the dance floor?”

“I’d love that.”

She stood and made her way across the room. As she did so, she felt Padraig’s gaze following her. Before entering the restroom, she glanced back and saw him delivering their drinks to the table, then kneeling to wipe up Yvonne’s spill.

He and Joe conversed amicably, and she sighed.

So much for the jealousy theory.

“Hey, thanks,” Joe said as Padraig placed the drinks on their table.

“You two having a good time?” Padraig asked, fighting hard to be friendly as he bent down to wipe up the spilled water. He liked Joe. He really did. He just hated his guts at the moment.

“Yeah. Emmy’s a sweetheart. Pretty as hell too. Can’t believe a woman like her is still single.”

Padraig nodded but didn’t reply. Because it was