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Chapter One
Conor
I setthe mixed fruity drink in front of the sexy blonde sitting at my bar and gave her a wink. Her drink choice needed work, but she would probably still be fun in bed.
Maybe she’d stick around for bar close.
I wiped my hands on the bar towel hanging from my belt and glanced up as one of my regulars-turned-good-friends came up to the bar, pounding on it twice with his fists, a huge grin on his face. “Yo, Conor.”
I chuckled and nodded upward, working on a drink order one of my barmaids brought up. “What’s up, Cael?”
Caleb Prescott was one of my regulars, yes. He played hockey for the city’s NHL team and often came in with his brother or the team as a whole. He and I would sit and shoot the shit sometimes and I grew to like the guy. He was younger than me, my sister Brenna’s age actually, but he was a good guy.
“I talked Syd into a date for the wedding.” Caleb moved to sit in what had to be the only open stool at my bar and leaned forward on his arms. Caleb met Sydney during a dating show.
I take that back. Sydney was the casting person, and Caleb fell for her, hook, line, and sinker.
“She finally decided she was going through with it, hey?” I grinned and slid the glasses I’d filled over to the end to be picked up. “Your mug is good enough for her?”
Caleb grinned wide. “Fuck you, Conor. But yes, we decided on a date. And I want you to be there.”
I stopped wiping my hands on my towel. Caleb and I were friends, yeah, but I didn’t realize we were invite-you-to-the-wedding kind of friends.
“It’s cool if you don’t want to, or can’t come. We’re having it back in Wisconsin. But you’re one of my few friends here that isn’t on the team and Sydney likes you, so.”
“Nah, yeah, absolutely,” I said, reaching up to flip my baseball cap backward. “I’d be honored to go. Thanks for the invitation.”
“I only asked because of Sydney,” Caleb said with a smirk.
“Yeah, whatever, fucker. You love me.”
Caleb shot me the bird before standing to pull an envelope from his back pocket. “Don’t tell her I gave it to you bent to shit, though. She spent a lot of time on them.”
I laughed and shook my head. The guy was whipped. I couldn’t imagine one pussy for the rest of my life, but hey, if he was happy…
I reached for the envelope and put it back by the register and legal pad, which I would have to take back to my office before the night was over.
“You want a beer?” I asked as I turned.
Caleb shook his head as he pushed back from the wood. “Nah. Chief made dinner and we have a game tomorrow, so I need to pass. See you tomorrow though? You get those tickets?”
I nodded, holding my finger up to a pretty girl waving in my direction. “I did. Rory was fucking ecstatic. They’re great seats, thanks.” Rory’s birthday was coming up and Caleb hooked me up with tickets to the Enforcers-Wild game the next night.
“Absolutely. Happy to help. Talk later,” Caleb said, holding his hand up in the air in salutation as he turned to leave. I shook my head, grinning, and went back to work, heading down the bar to the girl who flagged me down.
“What do you have on under that kilt, Conor?” she asked. She was certainly hot, with her dark hair and grey eyes, and her most definitely surgically-enhanced chest. Maybe she’d be willing to play tonight. Her blonde friend beside her was pretty easy on the eyes, too. Maybe she’d be up for some play time as well.
I chuckled and lifted a brow. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Everyone with a true Irish bone in their body knew that kilts were a Scottish thing, and the kilts worn by the Irish were typically an American thing. When my brother Rory and I were trying to find ways to keep the bar from falling under the red line, we decided to go with the kilt idea. It didn’t matter that kilts weren’t a true part of our heritage, regardless of the Gaelic ancestry we had; we were Irish, and Irish-Americans liked to wear them.
That, and the ladies seemed to fawn over them.
So we wore them on Thursdays, which quickly became our best night of the week.
For the business and the bedroom.
I wasn’t exactly private about my affairs. Many a drunk woman would stick around until bar close, hoping I’d pick them in my nightly game of eenie, meenie, miney, ‘ho.
