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He tipped the glass toward me. “Sláinte.”
“Sláinte,” I echoed. Then I heard from behind me, “Hey, miss! Can we order please?”
My cheeks got hot to realize I was neglecting customers. And when I turned around, my belly sank. The bar was heaving. About a hundred faces all looking at me expectantly.
I dove in, time blurring as I dealt with a seemingly unending barrage of customers. At this rate I’d run out of glasses. I cursed silently.
Then the frat boys came back for another round. Drunker this time. “Hey, sexy lady,” one of them slurred. “How’s about you and me get together after you finish me off?”
He leered at me. “That is, I mean to say, when you finish work.”
I kept my tone friendly but firm. “I think you boys have had enough here. Time to go to the next bar.”
“Hey, bitch,” said another guy, big and beefy and sulky looking. “You can’t tell us to leave.”
The language shocked me and a definite frisson of fear crawled up my back. Then I felt a sensation behind me and heard a voice say, “Yes she can, and she’s right—you boys have had enough. Go on, get out.”
I looked around and had to look up to see Hottie McHotness right behind me, behind the bar. How had I not even noticed? An uncomfortable awareness of my vulnerability and those recently decimated defenses made me clench my hands and face him. “Excuse me, who said you could come in here?”
“Yeah, dude, who the fuck are you? She’s talking to me.”
I looked back at the beefy guy who was pointing a pudgy finger at himself. The mood was turning ugly. As much as I hated it, when the sexy stranger ignored me to move in front of me and spread his hands on the bar and said menacingly, “Get out now or I’ll call the cops myself,” I was relieved.
The guys looked at him belligerently for a few seconds but clearly they saw the same danger I did. Next to him, they no longer looked threatening. They looked soft and ineffectual, and they finally slunk away with a few muttered insults and curses.
I sucked in a shaky breath, not even realizing till then how tense I was. He turned around, and I reacted to his proximity. “You can go back to your seat now. I could have handled that.”
“But thank you,” I added ungraciously.
His mouth tightened and he folded his arms across his chest, making him look intimidating and huge. “I’ve no doubt you could...on a slower night. But you’re being slammed, and those guys were knocking back drinks they’d brought with them, which you wouldn’t have noticed.”
I looked at him. I hadn’t noticed. And now I recalled Liam warning me about those guys. They’d been in a few times before and he’d barred them.
“I... Well, thanks. I have to get back to work.”
I glanced at the bar. Even with those guys gone, others had taken their places.
“You obviously need a hand. Tell me where you want me.”
I looked back at him and blinked. For a bizarre second I had a vision of him pushing me up against the bar to grind his hips into mine.
Shock made me blurt out, “You can’t just—”
He cut me off. “I’m not moving.”
Chapter Three
I heard the clamor of the crowd, and the music had stopped. Dirty glasses were piled up. He was right. I was slammed. And I realized that even though he was a complete stranger, I felt I could trust him. Which should have been warning enough if I’d had enough time to think about it.
Still reluctant, though, I said, “I don’t even know your name.”
“Johnny.”
I pushed the image of Jenna’s wagging finger to the back of my mind and followed my gut—and my ravenous libido—and stuck out my hand. “Ashling.”
He took my hand with his and it was big and warm and callused. Be still, my pulsating pussy. Shit.
I pulled my hand away and tried to look as stern and boss-like as possible. “You could start by collecting the glasses and putting them in the washer.”
