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“How long does it take? They’ve been gone for a wicked long time tonight.”
“Patience,seamair no cheithre duilleog,” Connor smirks at me, climbing to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets. I turn away from the window to glare at him.
“Uh, I don’t know what that means. I don’t speak Irish.” I roll my eyes at him, which earns me a mischievous grin.
“It means ‘my four-leaf clover’,” he drawls, winking at me. Huh. No wonder Paddy doesn’t like it when Connor calls me that.
“I’m not your anything,” I sniff at him, turning back to the window. He’s still grinning as he comes to stand beside me there.
“Yes, you are. I’ve never had such a streak of luck as that night you were at the fight.”
“If you weren’t lucky until you met me, why are you calledLucky?”
Connor snorts, shrugging, his eyes locked on the street outside the window with me. “Some people think my skill at the poker table is down to luck.”
“Is it?”
“No, lass. I read faces, not tarot cards.” A smirk tugs at his lips. “Besides, Paddy hates it when I call youseamair no cheithre duilleog.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “So you do it to rile Paddy up?”
“Ah, come now.” He grins easily at me. “Sure, and it’s my favorite pastime.”
It is? But Paddy said Seamus and Connor were his two closest friends. Why would one of his best friends want to rile him up? That sounds like a weird friendship. Men are weird.
“Maybe you should look into getting new hobbies,” I snipe good-naturedly at him, feeling defensive of Paddy. Connor laughs at me.
“Doesn’t Paddy call you things in Irish?” he asks me curiously, a blush heating my cheeks. “Or does he stick tolass?”
There’s a strange look on his face as he says the last word, emphasizing it strongly.
“He calls memo chroí,” I admit, butchering the words as my tongue twists around the unfamiliar sounds.
Connor snickers, shoving his hands in his pockets again. “Of course he does. The sappy fuck is head over heels for you.”
Okay. That’s seriously heartwarming. To have one of Paddy's best friends think he’s head over heels for me. I poke his arm.
“What does it mean?”
“Mo chroí?”he asks, and I nod. “My heart.”
Well,myheart has officially melted into a pool on the floor. Paddy calls me his heart? That’s so romantic.
“Jesus, give me strength,” Connor mutters from beside me at the sappy look crossing my face. I laugh, flipping him off.
“Why would annoying your best friend be your favorite pastime?” I ask, frowning at the street through the window.
Connor’s sigh drags my gaze over to him. He’s not grinning anymore. He looks…tired.
“We’re best matesnow,” he clarifies. “Because when you’re twenty-nine and thirty, a year is nothing. But when you’re eight and nine….”
“A year is a lifetime?” I guess. Connor nods, his eyes glued out the window.
“Paddy was forever convincing Seamus that I was just his annoying little cousin, tagging along with them.”
“So you started trying to rile him up?”
“Every chance I got.” His mischievous grin is back now. “Bad habits take a lifetime to break.”
