“Burn,” Patrick choked on his drink.
Tim and Josh had tears running down their cheeks, and the Kennedy sisters and River weren’t even making any noise, they were laughing so hard.
“You actually measured your penis?” Raven asked, giggling. “Tell me Hugh is lying!”
“How else is a man to know where he stands, babe?” Bran asked his wife.
“Greek sculptures,” Josh suggested. “Everybody’s dick is bigger than that.”
“Porn,” Tim added.
“Timothy Daniels!” Saoirse gasped. “You’ve been holding out on me,” she teased.
To which Tim gave his fiancé a lovely, smacking kiss. The table cheered. Tim had certainly come out of his shell this past year.
The waiter came by with another round of drinks, placing Rowan’s shot of Slane on the table last. He told her that a gentleman paid for hers.
Oh shit!The table went silent. She felt Hugh stiffen next to her, and just when she was about to tell the waiter thank you, another man approached her end of the table.
He was tall with a sandy blonde mohawk, brow piercings, and his muscular arms sported full tattoo sleeves. What could be seen of his legs beneath his shorts were fully tatted, as well…and he was smiling wide enough to show off his dimples.
Davey. The man who’d tattooed her ass. She knew she must look like a deer in headlights as Davey took the place of the waiter.
She had to say something…“Davey, wow, what a surprise.” Lame and awkward AF.
“Hey, Rowan. I’ve been watching your table for a bit,” he admitted with a laugh. “I was sure it was you. Since you seem to be the only one in your group not on a date, I thought I’d take a chance you might want to hang out tonight.”
There wasn’t enough damage control in all of Europe to dampen this shit show fire.
Davey looked sheepish but committed. She gave him props for being so bold. She could never have approached a table full of people to ask someone out, but oh God, the worst was when he said she was the only one not on a date.Damn it, Hugh!
Before she could come up with a brilliant reply—a thank you and have a good evening, I’m going home soon—Davey addressed the group.
“Hey all, I’m Davey Paxton. I met Rowan at my shop a few months ago.”
Raven, bless her, tried to fill the silence. “Oh, that’s cool. I’m Raven, her sister. What kind of store is it?”
“I’m a tattoo artist. I own Grey’s off Cow’s Lane.”
Rowan mentally began the Act of Contrition.O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended thee and I detest all my sins, because I…let this man tattoo my bare ass, and now Hugh knows his name, knows his face, and where he works.
She heard River’s quiet, “Oh,fuck.”
Preach.
When she heard the scratch of Hugh’s chair over the cobbled patio, signaling he might be about to make a move, she knew she had to end this.
“Thank you for the drink, Davey—very thoughtful.” She fluttered her hands, a gross abuse of gratuitous gestures. “However, I am on a date. I apologize if you thought otherwise.” She blindly reached her hand back to lay her palm on the top of Hugh’s thigh. His muscles were stiff enough to bounce her hand off.
Davey’s smile faltered. “Damn, sorry. I would have never…that is, I thought he was someone’s da?—”
She cut him off before more damage could be done. “Haha,” she cringed at how robotic she sounded. “It was so good to see you. Thank you again for the drink.”
River tried to help too. “You did a killer job on Row’s tat. If I ever decide to get another one, I’ll give you a call.”
“Yeah, Davey, “Raven added. “It was great to meet you, and we’ll definitely remember Grey’s.”
Davey gave Rowan a pointed look as she slipped her hand from Hugh to fully face the tattoo artist. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she finished with a stiff smile.
