Wild Chance (Wilder Irish #13) - Mari Carr Page 0,30

Joe’s cheek.

Jesus. Christ.

Padraig wanted her. Bad.

“Come on. Let’s dance,” she said, placing her hand in Joe’s and letting him lead her away from Padraig and onto the dance floor.

Padraig cursed himself up one side and down the other for not saying what he’d pulled her aside to say. For not getting her the fuck away from Joe.

“Seriously, bro,” Colm said, sidling up to him. “You gonna let Moretti steal your girl right out from under your nose?”

“Haven’t exactly told her she’s my girl yet, have I?”

“Having second thoughts?” Colm asked.

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Colm’s wide smile proved he liked that answer. “Good. But I’ve gotta tell you, the rest of the family is starting to get antsy. You need to put them out of their misery. Pop Pop is fit to be tied. That Joe Moretti is a good-looking bastard. If you’re making your move, make it fast. I told Dad I’d tend bar with him the rest of the night.”

“You’re shit at mixing drinks,” Padraig said absentmindedly, unable to take his eyes off Emmy and Joe dancing. So far, the guy was keeping his hands on her waist, but even that touch was too much for Padraig’s liking. Plus, they were dancing close. Way too close.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing it’s mainly family tonight. You and I both know all I’ll be doing is draining the keg of Guinness. Any fool can pull a tap.”

“Says the fool who pulled the tap so hard one night, he broke it off. All I asked you to do was cover the bar for ten minutes so I could go upstairs and change out of a shirt I’d stained with cranberry juice.”

Colm chuckled, looking unremorseful. “One mistake, asshole. And I was three sheets to the wind. You’re the clown who asked a drunk guy to man the bar.” Colm nudged Padraig with his shoulder. “You’ve been different since we got back from Ireland. Happier, more like your old self. I’m glad. And before you say it, it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with the fact we’re standing back in this pub.”

Padraig couldn’t deny his brother’s observation because it was true. The change in him had started with Pop Pop’s pep talk in Ireland and grown stronger ever since returning to Baltimore and seeing Emmy again. “It doesn’t. Or it’s not just because of the pub. It’s her. It’s been her for a long time.”

“So go get her.”

6

Emmy laughed as Joe’s hand slipped the tiniest bit lower on her back, skirting very close to touching her ass. Layla was right. He was a shameless flirt.

“I think our date is about to come to a close,” Joe said out of the blue, just as the slow song was about to end.

She tilted her head, confused. The night was still young. “What do you mean? Do you need to leave?”

“Nope. But after this dance, I’m gonna go hang out with my family at their table.”

“Joe,” she said, wondering what the hell had gone wrong. She thought they’d been having a lot of fun. “Did I do something…say something…”

“Hell no. This has been one of the best dates I’ve had in a long time. It’s just…”

“What?”

“You’re not single, Emmy.”

She studied Joe’s face, trying to recall how much he’d had to drink tonight. He didn’t act drunk. “I’m very single. Painfully, excruciatingly single.”

“Yeah? You’re wrong about that, and I’m gonna prove it.”

“How?” she asked.

“I’m going to grab my good-night kiss now.”

She didn’t have time to react before he lowered his head and kissed her. It was a surprisingly gentle kiss. Soft. Too soft. It felt more friendly than passionate. She would have expected Joe’s kisses to be more like…Padraig’s. Joe seemed like the type of guy who would know his way around a kiss. Instead, this felt, well, lukewarm. Like he was phoning it in.

“I want to have a word with you, Moretti. Now.”

Emmy jerked back, surprised by Padraig’s deep—angry—voice so close to them on the dance floor.

“So I’m Moretti now, huh?” Joe asked, grinning, despite the outright fury on Padraig’s face that seemed to scream danger.

“You and I need to talk,” Padraig continued.

Emmy didn’t often lose her temper, but Padraig was taking this overprotective routine to new levels, and it was pissing her off. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Padraig, listen—” she started.

“I think we should step outside,” he added.

Neither man seemed to notice she’d spoken. Which infuriated her even more. They were facing off like two boxers