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Errin swayed to the music with her eyes closed as she waited to order. Her long honey colored braid kept sliding over her right breast, grazing her nipple over and over again and making it stand out like a sore thumb against the shiny fabric of her outfit. But fuck. He wasn’t going there. Hell no.
She certainly wasn’t his type. Sure, looks wise Errin is definitely hot as in fuckin’ and smokin’ HOT. Being a professional dancer with a body to show for it, and not to mention those beautiful aquamarine doe eyes and long, warm blonde hair. But that mouth on her? He knew within the first thirty seconds in meeting her for the first time that they would never be a thing or even friends for that matter.
She talked and talked and talked. There’s no stopping her. Yapping about stupid things he didn’t have the time for to be even remotely interested in. He guessed because he was eleven years older, that half of the time he couldn’t relate to her. Or perhaps it was for the lack of trying, as he didn’t really bother to go there with her.
Being the youngest sister of his brothers Duncan and Brennan’s girlfriends, he was determined to stay away from that cluster fuck. It had been years since he’d been in a relationship. And given the choice? No attachment was the way to go for him. Getting involved with Errin was bound to get messy when things would end.
Tori walked over to his side of the bar to grab the tequila bottle and caught him staring at Errin who waited for Tori to get her the shots.
Errin surprised him tonight by turning up in a cute black ballerina outfit instead of some overly sexy costume. He knew she danced professionally so he thought nothing of it.
“Fucking Black Swan…thinks she owns the place…” Tori muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?” Brennan said as he walked by to grab the ice bucket near Tori’s feet under the sink. They were almost out of ice and he really needed to fill this spare bucket, but something about her attitude rubbed him the wrong way and made him speak up.
“Hmm?” she asked like she hadn’t heard him, which he knew she did.
He had no time for this and decided to leave Tori standing and just ignore her. Fuckin’ Tori. Always playing games. When he was filling the ice bucket, he watched her behind the register, handing over the pin device to Errin.
Errin pulled her mobile phone from her outfit where it rested over her left breast. She took her card from her phone case and placed it in the pin device. Tori was making Errin pay for her drinks even though he specifically instructed her that Errin didn’t need to pay for anything tonight since it’s her birthday.
He was going to have another talk with Tori, even though he hated their talks. Overall, she’d been a good employer this past year; the male patrons all swooned over her model like figure and long brown hair. She knew how to flirt her way into getting more orders and more tips, for sure. But for the most part? Her attitude just stank.
It was time to clear the dishwasher in order to fill it with the mess that would be left from eating a cake in a pub. Some people only took a few bites to be polite. And just like the confetti, at the end of the night he would find the remains of cake not only spilled upon the table, but also on the floor, on the chairs and even plastered to the wall.
The night passed by quickly and hours later, after he’d set the last few glasses in the two industrial sized dishwashers in the kitchen, he reentered the pub and noticed Errin still sitting with Pops at his table being the last two left. Yes, his grandfather had his own table, and everyone knew when he’d entered the place, they were expected to move from his table. Being the former owner of Lucky and patriarch of the Mills family had its perks.
Brennan walked behind the bar but couldn’t concentrate on the numbers and stats from the cash register with those two sitting nearby. Pops and Errin had hit it off even though she’d flat out ignored his grandfather when they first met six months ago. Pops said he’d liked the Irish fire coming from Errin and because the two of them never beat around any bush, they just seemed to click.
Errin hung over Pops’ table, with her head resting on top of her clasped hands on the tabletop. Pops patted her messy braided hair and softly said, “Dear lass. Nothin’ bad about that. Do ye think I always knew what I was doin’ with me life?” He chuckled as he nudged her shoulder with his knuckles.
When she only groaned in response, he continued in his Irish brogue, “Ye are the worst drunk I’ve ever seen in me life. Ha! And I’ve run an Irish Pub all through the sixties, seventies and eighties.”
Errin giggled and then snorted. “I don’t believe you, old man. No way I’m the worst.”
Whatever they had between them, made them grew a bond so tight, Brennan was astound she could get away with speaking like this to the burly seventy-eight-year-old man. Nobody from his family would ever dare to call Pops an old man.
“Who ye callin’ an old man? Anyway, I ain’t listenin’ to nobody whose named after a rodent.” Pops stated.
Errin lifted her head from her hands and glowered at his grandfather. “Who are you calling a rodent?”
“Well, ain’t people callin’ ye Bunny?” he retorted.
Errin burst out in laughter and even drowned out Pop’s bellowing laugh. Brennan found himself joining them and Errin and Pops looked up at the sound. Errin quickly wiped some tears from her cheeks, as she still looked his way. Were those tears of joy or had she been emotional because she couldn’t hold her liquor?
Errin could get drunk from even smelling a stale beer bottle. He’d been on the front row seat of her drunken laughter one too many times. And she never listened to him when he would try to cut her off after three drinks.
Yep, it took only two drinks and little Errin would already be slurring. Shit. Who was going to take Errin home tonight? Brennan often let Pops stay in his spare room upstairs whenever he would be the last one to leave—like tonight. But what was he going to do with Errin?
Pops noticed how Brennan assessed the situation at hand. Pops suddenly stood from his table and patted Errin’s hair. “Imma goin’ to bed, dear lass. Let me boyo take care of ye, okay? And don’t give ’em any lip, ye hear?”
Errin snorted while looking from Pops to lock eyes with Brennan. “He would love to have a nibble, but he isn’t getting my lips, Pops. I promise…” And then, she pouted those big puffy lips in a fake kiss and winked at Brennan, the wench.
“Irish fire, I’ll tell ye. Brennan me boy, watch out for me dear lass. Just when ye think ye safe, she’s gonna fire it all up. Bringin’ ye walls down.”
“Pops…” Brennan tried to talk some reason into his grandfather.
But he already spoke to the back of his head as Pops walked to the backdoor for the stairs to go up to Brennan’s apartment. And now they were the only two remaining. The music had already been stopped, the lights had been turned on for Brennan to sweep the floor and clean the tables. Only one last table to do and he would be done.
