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Fallon grabbed my arm. “Are you nuts? Cormac is a brute.”
I shrugged, unable to keep from grinning. “I can handle him. He’s a pussycat. Besides, there’s not much else to do on a dark spring night.”
“I’m telling you. Maybe if you wish on a star or five, a few hotties will walk in through that door.”
“Right. Where did you say those pigs were flying over?”
My BFF rolled her eyes. “I’m telling you that you need a man.”
“Right. Like a hole in the head. You forget what I have to endure for half my life.” I took my beer and sauntered over to the table, every other guy backing away, leaving the six-foot four-inch bruiser across the table, his shit-eating grin driving the crowd to a frenzy.
I sat down carefully, gently placing my beer on the table and batting my eyelashes on purpose. Most people who didn’t understand arm wrestling assumed it was all about brawn. Not true. Technique could win out just as easily, especially if you fucked with your opponent, which I wasn’t opposed to doing.
I planted my elbow on the table, winking for sheer fun. “You ready, big boy?”
“Easily, sugar.”
He clasped his hand around mine and as I’d anticipated, tried to shove my arm to the table immediately.
“Tsk. Tsk. You need to wait.”
He growled and a few more euros were tossed onto the table.
“You got this, Cormac. Go for it. Three. Two. One.”
He pushed hard and I allowed him to drive my arm almost completely to the table, even pretending to strain in the process. He grinned like some loon. At least until I easily lifted his arm, taking less than twenty seconds to drive it to the table.
Then I threw up my arms, pumping a few times with my fist.
“Wonk. Wonk. Wonk.” I’d heard that in an old American movie.
The guys looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.
“Two out of three?” I asked and pursed my lips for the fuck of it.
“Sure. Get ready to go down.”
I did so love a competition. As he stretched and showboated his power, I glanced toward the front door, yawning out of honest boredom. I’ve lived my whole life in Cork, growing up here, falling in love here. All of it. I had a right to be bored to death.
When the door opened, I almost looked away.
Until three of the most gorgeous men I’d ever seen walked in through the door. I wasn’t the kind of girl who ever had her breath stolen, but this time, I was floored at the three men walking inside. They were all tall and rugged, the kind of dudes that fantasies were made of. One had dark hair, colorful ink running down both arms. The second guy was equally as dark, his scruff-covered face giving him a mountain man kind of feel, ink covering his arms and the thick cords of his neck, even his fingers. And the third had shoulder-length dirty blond hair, the kind I wanted to run my fingers through.
“Whew,” Fallon whispered in a far too husky and seductive voice.
I tipped my head in her direction, giving her a particular ‘look’ that we often shared with each other when something seemed silly or off balance.
“What?” She was already fanning her face, even dragging her tongue across her lips on purpose.
“You know exactly what.”
She leaned over so only I could hear her words. “A perfect foursome if you ask me.”
“Stop it,” I growled but when I glanced in the rugged men’s direction one more time, I had to admit she was right. When the biggest and baddest of the three looked toward me, catching my eye, I resisted swooning.
Even when he grinned after catching me staring at him.
Bastard.
