Chapter 2

2

Charlie

Charlie’s Words To Live By:

Never date the ones named Rory. Oh, or Simon or Pat either.

They’re cheating bastards, every last one.

That was another one down. I’d run up to the pub in Doolin for a quick pint with my sister, Cait, and run right into Rory with his fucking tongue rammed in some bloke’s face in the corridor to the jacks.

Classic case of my having assumed the relationship was more than it was.

“What the fuck, Rory?” I squawked.

He and the tosser he was with jumped apart and started in with some nonsense about it not being what it looked like. Whatever. I should have known better, to tell the truth. The first boyfriend I’d ever had warned me early on that one of the benefits of being gay was not having to deal with all that monogamy bullshit.

But stupid Charlie kept trying for it anyway.

Stupid dope Charlie.

I turned on my heel and made my way back out to where Cait sat.

“Shut your gob before flies get in,” I spat. “Let’s go.” I tossed down a tenner before disappearing out the front door without another word.

Cait came running after me, but I ignored her. Heat ignited my face, and I was sure it was all splotchy. Fucking pale skin—couldn’t hide feelings for shite.

“Charlie, wait. Fuck him, brother. Really. The guy’s a royal jackass if you ask me,” she said, jogging a bit to keep up with me. She was one of the only people I knew who was smaller than I was.

I spun to face her. “I did ask you! Jesusfuckingchrist, Cait. I did ask you. Two months ago when things seemed to be getting more serious, I said I fancied him for more than a fuck and what did you think of the guy. And you said, ‘yeah, fine.’”

“Yeah, fine isn’t the same thing as saying he’s an amazing human being, Charlie. What did you expect me to say?”

I threw up my hands. “I expected you to say, ‘Charlie, he looks like another user who’s going to step out on you when you least expect it, in your very own local pub no less.’”

Cait winced. “Yeah, what was up with that? Couldn’t he have gone to Dan Lowrey’s instead if he was going to fuck around behind your back?”

I rolled my eyes and started walking again. “That’s not the point.”

“No, but seriously. Why would he have done that when he knows we share a pint here every Thursday after your dog meeting?”

“He thought I was scheduled to go out of town for that big delivery run for Uncle Dev. I got the dates wrong. It’s actually day after tomorrow,” I admitted. “Did you see that bloke he was with? I wouldn’t have ridden him if he’d had pedals.”

We arrived in front of my sister’s flat and stood on the pavement. I couldn’t wait to get back home to my cottage instead. I loved my solitude on the old family property. Just me and the sound of the sea over the cliffs. Thank fuck I hadn’t asked Rory to move in with me yet. That would have been a disaster.

“Agreed. Did you even know he wasn’t looking for something serious? I mean, had you ever talked about relationships?”

“Yes. I knew he didn’t want to take anything at light speed, but he seemed really into me. I’m a decent catch.”

That had sounded less pathetic in my head.

She rolled her eyes at me. “No shit, Sherlock. I wasn’t suggesting otherwise. But maybe you need to take a break from looking for something serious and stick to sex in the clubs for a bit instead, hmm?”

I knew she was joking, but it still rankled. “Cait, I live in a cottage at the edge of the sea in nowhere, Ireland. You want to talk to me about hooking up in gay clubs? Christ.”

“Another reason you should move to the city with me and Donny one day,” she said with laser eyes burning holes in my face. “Cork is full of gorgeous men.”

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Gay men in Cork? Please. I’ve either already fucked them or deliberately not fucked them.”

That got her attention. She knew I wasn’t a casual-sex person. “Pardon?”

“Well, it seemed that way anyway. Before college, I mean,” I muttered. “And anyway, Dublin is much better.”

“You last lived in Dublin, what? Four years ago? You don’t think things have changed since then? You dope.”

I leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug. “Doesn’t matter. No more men for me. I’m on a break.”

The last thing I heard before I walked back in the direction of the car park near the pub was the snide chuckle and my sister’s bratty “Yeah, right. Famous last words. I’ll prove you wrong. I’m going to find someone irresistible and send them to the pub during one of your shifts to tempt you into a casual fuck, no strings attached. Remind you of the freedom of walking away after.”

It only took twenty-four hours for me to spot the man she must have found for me. He was hot as fuck, and I knew he was the one she’d sent because he certainly wasn’t a local and he wasn’t with anyone else the way the tourists were. But he didn’t look like a player. He looked like a Forever Man.

I tracked the stranger from the doorway to the spot he selected at the bar. His soulful eyes were so fucking beautiful, I was sure I stared at him like an idiot until another customer down the bar asked for her party’s bill. Sorting out the separate checks bullshit for the woman took longer than I expected, and when I was done, I heard the stranger call out from behind me.

“Excuse me… may I have a beer please?” he asked. American. And his voice was lovely.

I turned around and saw the usual moment of surprise when the stranger realized I wasn’t a woman. It was over in a flash, but it was there. With my long hair and feminine features, it happened more often than not, but this time around it did make me wonder why Cait hadn’t given the man my description ahead of time. Maybe he wasn’t particularly picky?

He spoke again, only this time it was with noticeably rosier cheeks that had my own face warming as my lips tugged into an unbidden smile. The gorgeous man was blushing. “Ah… what do you have on tap? How about a lager?”

I stared at those lovely rosy cheeks until the man turned around to look behind him before looking back at me in confusion. “You okay? Do you need me to find someone else?”

A full-body shudder passed through me and woke me up out of my ridiculous stupor. “No, fine. I’m grand. Yeah. Lager, coming right up.”

As I pulled his beer into the pint glass, I tried studying him out of the corner of my eye without being obvious. He had medium-brown hair clipped short on the sides and left longer and styled on top. His cheeks showed a couple of days’ beard growth, which only enhanced his full rosy lips. Every single aspect of the man was beautiful. But nothing, nothing, compared to his bedroom eyes. They were a mix of green and blue I wanted to dive into and get lost in.

I couldn’t help but also admire the cut of his crisp suit on his tall, wide-shouldered frame as the fine material hugged his body as he moved. I watched with a mix of amusement and curiosity as he patted his pockets almost frantically until he found a small bottle of what looked like hand sanitizer and began rubbing it into his palms. I almost called out to make a joke about my bartop being too dirty for him when I realized that his body noticeably relaxed the more he worked the gel between his hands. As soon as he was done, he began stacking a few nearby coasters neatly together. It hit me then that his behavior probably had nothing to do with the bartop’s cleanliness at all. Before I could even consider what any of it meant, he turned to stare at me, and I realized the pint glass was overflowing all over my hand.

“Jesus, fuck,” I muttered, closing the tap and grabbing a bar rag from the back pocket of my jeans. I cleaned up the glass and my hands as best I could before setting the pint in front of him, making sure to put it on the coaster he’d set out for the purpose. “Hungry? We have a great menu for dinner.”

He smiled his thanks and took a deep draw from the beer before answering. His satisfied moan of appreciation went straight to my dick and seemed to also cause my eyes to pop out of my head. Was it possible to overstare at someone?

“God, this is good. What’s it called?”

“Cliffs. It’s one of the lagers brewed here. A bit less malty than Harp,” I explained. “Very popular with Americans.”

And then I winked.

It was like time stood still. The awkwardness I’d just brought upon myself was legendary. My face suddenly felt like an inferno. I would have said the tables had turned, but he blushed again as well.

We stared at each other. Oddly, I wanted to apologize. For daring to wink at the man? Why? He was there to hook up with me, right? What the hell was my problem?

“F-food,” I stammered. “Let’s get you some.”

I reached down the bar for a laminated menu and slid it in front of him before busying myself with nonsense chores. I wiped up a clean area of the oak surface, cleaned some already clean pint glasses, and finally counted the coins in the till.

“Charlie?”

I whipped around to face him. How did he know my name? Oh right, Cait. God, the sound of my name on his tongue made me want to beg him for things. Many, many things.

“Yes? Found something you like?”

Me, perhaps? Maybe Cait was right. Maybe a one-nighter was just what I needed to kick the memory of shitty Rory once and for all.

“I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t know what several of these things are. I’ve never been to Ireland before. What do you recommend?”

I wondered if he’d like my father’s specialty coddle dish.

“Do you like sausage?”

The man’s eyes widened until he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

What had I said?