Page 30 of Experiments in Offline Dating

“Are ye mad? What are you doing?”

There was a voice. A deep voice. A familiar voice. A slow, dangerous rumble of a voice that turned my blood to ice. The biggest hand in the world wrapped around my wrist, which, at that moment, was at the highest point of the X. “Jesus! You nearly lamped that poor woman. Would you stop waving your arms like an eejit?”

I whirled around, wrist still in his hand, and it looked for all the world like we were mid-dance, only his grip was tight and accusatory, and his face—surprise, surprise—was angry.

My mouth opened as I looked up into Tadhg’s face, and we froze there, stock-still on the edge of the dance floor. The music slurred and swam in my mind for a moment, as if I were underwater. His brow was drawn and creased, looking even more furious than when I’d last seen him and said he tasted like asshole.

“I . . .” I started and stopped, forgetting the mechanics of how to form a sentence, until a dancer spun past and bumped into me, pushing my body into Tadhg’s. We jostled against each other for a second. His body was every bit as granitelike as I had imagined it to be . . . multiple times. His arm came around my back to stop me from falling. I put my hand on his chest for purchase. It was warm and so deliciously solid. My fingers splayed themselves wide. He inhaled, and his mouth looked angry too now, not just the brow.

Finally, he dropped my arm, grabbed me by each shoulder, and put about a foot of distance between us. It was all we could afford without getting in the way of the dancers.

“Well? Are you going to answer me?”

“I was. Do you know Jackie Kelly? I was trying to get his attention.”

“Yeah, I know him, all right. Why? Couldn’t you wait for the song to finish to beg the man for a husband?”

I looked over. Arnold had returned and was walking back to our table while scanning the room. I positioned myself out of his eyeline behind Tadhg—which was not difficult.

“I need help. I’m kinda trapped in an awkward situation.”

“Yeah, well, good luck. You’ll not be getting that man off the dance floor anytime soon.”

I looked back at Arnold. I thought about making a break for it, but it was a small village, and I knew there would be nowhere to hide until Jackie was ready to go home. “Well. Would you help me, then?”

“No. No, I wouldn’t. I’m only here to get keys off someone, and I’ve done that, so now I’m getting the hell out of this circus.” He moved his face an inch closer to mine. “And even if I wasn’t, Maya from America, why would I want to help you? I wouldn’t throw a glass of water at you if you were on fire.” His eyes narrowed. “Why? What’s the matter?”

“Well, you see, he set me up with that man over there, Arnold, for a date.”

“Poor Arnold.”

“Yes, well. I need to get out of it, that’s all.”

“Why? Has he . . .” His jaw grew tighter. “He hasn’t touched you or anything, has he?”

“Well, no. He just. He’s the worst.”

“Has he said something?”

The music was loud. I had to lean in. “Nothing like that. He just said some stuff that was offensive. And he wants to drive me home in his murder van. Just. Will you help me or not?”

He craned his neck down to look at me even closer. Was he trying to read my thoughts? Intimidate me? Retinal scan? From this distance, I could count his every eyelash.

“Fine.” He dragged the word out as if sharpening a blade. “I’ll go over there and do your dirty work for you. Don’t ask me why. I’ve no fecking clue. You definitely don’t deserve my help. I guess you just caught me in a good mood.”

This? “Is this a good mood? What does a bad one look like?”

“I see you don’t want my help, then.”

“No!” I grabbed his forearm. “I want it! Please.”

He glared. “Just keep yourself outta the way while I go speak to him. Do you think you can manage that?” His face told me that he didn’t think so.

Before I knew what was happening, he opened his mouth and shouted over the music. “Thomas!” He grabbed a nearby man, pulled him over, said something into his ear, then, grabbing my hand, he placed it in the man’s hand. I shot a look at the angry Tiger, but before I could ask him what he was doing, he shouted again. “Go dance with Thomas, and stay out of trouble!” And then he pushed us out onto the dance floor.

The Thomas in question was a sweet-looking older gentleman who was wearing a wedding ring.

“Pleasure to meet ye,” he said, taking my hand and holding it up. The music ended and gave us a moment while the song changed.