River looked confident, but she was white-knuckling her sister’s hand. A sure sign of her nerves. He was beyond nervous himself. If she was angry that he crashed her night out, it would crush him.
And here she was. Standing right in front of him. “Hello, Patrick.” Christ, his whole body felt those words. River had added extra black liner around her eyes, accentuating her feisty cat vibe. How could a woman look wicked and innocent at the same time? That was River, though. Unique in every way.
Patrick lifted a hand to touch her but stopped. Instead, he made a gesture toward her sweater. “Fisherman’s rib stitch. Your Nan taught me that one.” Tragic. Karma for making fun of Bran’s sourdough starter. He would pay a hefty price for aLast of the Mohican’smercy kill about now.
River ran her hands over the dark blue pattern. “I love it.” That was all. She didn’t ask him why he was there. She didn’t look mad or sad. A good sign or the calm before the storm? Hmm.
Patrik took a deep breath. It was now or never, really. He’d come here for a reason, and there was no way he was leaving without at least asking, “Would you step outside for a moment? With me?”
River’s eyes rounded before turning to Rowan, who looked to be having a tense standoff with his dad. Patrick watched River take a deep breath, presumably to calm her nerves. She told her sister that they were going to go outside for a minute.
River had Rowan’s full attention. “Are you sure?” she asked. At River’s nod, she added, “I’ll meet you at our table then.” With a strict look at Pat, she added, “If your plans change. Text me so I don’t worry.”
“Rowan.” One word spoken through his father’s clenched teeth had Rowan’s cheeks flush red. She refused to look at Dad. This was quickly turning into a train wreck.
River moved around Patrick and stood toe to toe with his dad. It happened so fast that Pat felt like they were on theMatrixset. River practically hissed. She was so angry. Pointing at his father’s chest with one hand while Rowan grabbed her other, she demanded, “No, Hugh. No. You can’t have it both ways.” River glanced at Patrick for a moment, an apology in her eyes before she swung her attention back to Dad. “Your son tried that with me, and guess what? It hurts. Go home. Rowan can do whatever the hell she wants. Withwhoevershe wants.”
Forget the train wreck. They were living through atomic bomb fallout. “Dad, would you please go home? I only wanted a word with River, and then I’ll follow you. I don’t want to ruin their night out.” The pleading look on his son’s face must have registered.
He nodded before glancing at River and Rowan. “I apologize for coming.” He looked directly at Rowan then, who took a hesitant step forward before shaking her head and whirling around to head back to her table. His dad watched her go before walking out of the pub.
Patrick wrapped River’s hand in his, entwining their fingers, tired of second-guessing whether he could touch her. “I’m sorry, River. This wasn’t what I intended when I came here tonight. Will you still step out for a minute? Only a minute.” At her nod, he kept her hand and led them out the front. It was cold but not horrible once they ducked under an awning with wind protection on two sides. There were a few wrought iron benches, but Patrick led River past those to the only quiet corner.
* * *
River looked up at Patrick,but his face was in shadows. The outside lampposts only highlighted the breadth of his shoulders. She might not be able to see his expression, but his body language screamed with determination. He probably wasn’t aware that he’d blocked her in with his big body like she may change her mind— as if she wanted to be anywhere else.
“I’m sorry about Dad. He’s... well, I’d like to say he’s not always such a Neanderthal, but you know better.”
She could hear the band’s music filtering out of Murphy’s. It was kind of a romantic moment, all things told— ‘all things’ referring to Hugh’s drama and a potential reconciliation between her and Patrick. Blended families werehard, especially if they slept with one another. “You don’t need to apologize for your dad.” Patrick took both her hands, bringing them to rest on his chest. “Why are you here, Pat?”
His hands shook slightly where they cupped hers. He was nervous. “I read your letter.” Now, it was River’s turn to tremble. “You said you would let me see you. Before the baby gets here.”
That was all true, but “Why are you heretonight?" Patrick had started gently rubbing her fingers, pressing her hands more firmly against his chest. Distracting.
“Well, I was going to wait to call Rowan tomorrow, but while Dad and I were eating dinner, I realized I couldn’t wait to know.”
“Know what?” Patrick moved forward, trapping her hands between their bodies. His new position allowed a stray beam of light to cross his face. River had wanted to see his face... see what he was thinking, and oh, wow. Her breath constricted, short pants of air hitting her lips— the intensity of his stillness— predator and prey. River was definitely the prey.
Having forgotten she’d asked him a question, River was startled when he answered. “I want to knowwhenyou will see me. The day. The time. The place.” As Patrick spoke, his hands moved to her sides, a slight pressure to her ribs, before sliding around her back where he splayed his hands. His head had lowered so that when he spoke, his lips tickled her ear.
Deliberate seduction. River applauded the approach.
The words fizzing in her throat, begging for release, were not going to win her a Pulitzer, but she said them anyway. Turning her lips to the side of Patrick’s mouth, River threw caution to the wind. “Take me home, and we can talk about it.” Patrick’s hands flexed against her back. She heard him murmur,Thank God.
Because he was Patrick, he said, “Text Row so she doesn’t worry. Should I have Dad come back to walk her home?”
River already had her phone out, texting her sister. “No. She has a guard that lives with us. She’ll be fine.” Rowan would not thank anyone for a Hugh escort.
Pat is walking me home. Yeah... Meet me in the kitchen in the morning. 8. Promise deets.
River hit send at the same time Patrick’s mouth crashed against her own. Her phone almost dropped to the cobblestones before her nerveless fingers dropped it into her open crossbody. And oh, God, he tasted delectable.
Patrick broke the kiss, presumably to breathe. His teeth nipped her bottom lip before his tongue followed in a soothing caress. They were in public, leaning against a pub’s cold stone, and River couldn’t have cared less. Thank God Pat still possessed a brain cell. He pulled his phone out to call his guard to ask that he let Peter, the girls’ guard for the evening, know that he was to stay at Murphy’s with Rowan.
“Let’s go, babe.” He licked into her mouth in an almost desperate frenzy. River was half a second from wrapping her legs around his waist— public bedamned. “Christ. No. Not here,” he moaned into her ear. “We’ve got to get out of here. Now.” Grabbing her with one hand, he raised the other for a taxi.
A compact, four-door silver Ford with a yellow and blue Taxi sign on its roof pulled to the curb in front of them. Patrick’s guard, whom River hadn’t met yet, climbed in the front, and she and Pat tumbled in the back, neither willing to let go of the other.
