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The sheer size of him was enough to make anyone take a step back, including five-ten me, but I held my ground.
I prided myself on my people skills. It was important when you worked in the service industry. Making others at ease was a large part of my job and I was damn good at it. And grumpy or not, I was going to treat him the same way I treated everyone. With courtesy, kindness, and respect.
When I finally looked up (way up), our gazes locked.
His eyes immediately recalled my favorite whiskey—rich amber mixed with dark honey.
But it was the look in his eyes, not the color, that hit me like an unexpected punch to the gut.
Everything about his tense posture and severe scowl told me toback the fuck off.
But his eyes, fuck me, those eyes.
They told a different story. I didn’t know how or what or who, but it was obvious to me in that moment that this man was struggling.
Kiernan wasn’t scary at all. He was the one running scared…
“I’ve had nothing since the plane ride and I’m right famished,” he growled as he slapped his stomach.
The sharp sound as he made contact startled me out of my strange headspace.
Kiernan’s left eyebrow raised, and I finally found my voice.
“Of course. I can make you a sandwich and bring it to you in bed. I mean, to your room,” I fumbled over my words, mortified, and motioned to the patio doors. “Not your bed. Sorry. Uh, after you.”
Kiernan nodded, a glare still in place, and stepped ahead of me. I finally released the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
My smooth, effortless service had finally hit a road bump.
And his name was Kiernan Doyle.
The next week…
Kiernan
“Kier, can you give me a hand?”
I was standing on the upper deck ofNow, Voyager, my gaze mesmerized by the reflection of the full moon in the still waters around us.
Lost in my head as usual.
I turned to find Charlie Cates standing behind me, decked out in his evening uniform of navy shorts and a matching button down.
Charlie was a direct and outgoing guy, cheerful and friendly, greeting me with a genuine smile. For some reason, I warmed to him right away. And I didn’t warm to anyone. Unlike most people, Charlie didn’t waver at my grumpiness or my size.
“Sure, what’s up?” I asked.
“One of Jared’s guests is really drunk and I’m gonna need another pair of arms to help me get him up to his room.”
I knew exactly who he was talking about: Jared’s friend and actor, Reed Larkin. Jared had hosted a dinner tonight for the cast members in his latest movie and Reed had thrown back drink after drink after drink.
“Reed?”
“How did you know?”
“I was there during dinner. That guy was downing drinks like it was St. Paddy’s Day.”
“Well, he’s about to run out of luck and fall overboard if we don’t rescue him.”
