Christmas With the Best Man (2 page)

Thankfully they arrived at the train station without much hassle, even if they did have to wait forever for the Airlink bus to show up. After another long wait at the train station in Dublin and at the bus station in Wexford, they were finally back in Kilmore Quay.

And it was still raining.

“Now what?” Jasmine stood beside him looking at the waterfall pouring off the roof of the bus station.

“The pub isn’t far. We can use the phone there to call Mrs. O’Neal and get our rooms back. Besides, it’s not like we aren’t wet already.” Joey grabbed the handle on his bag and shouldered his carry-on. “Ready?”

She grinned and shrugged. “Why not?”

He looked down at the suitcases at her feet. “I suppose I should do the gentlemanly thing, huh?”

“Don’t strain yourself. Why change now?” Her lips tilted in a wry grin.

He picked up the suitcase without wheels and ducked through the waterfall. They ran across the street and down the block, practically diving into the pub when they reached it. They were soaked to the skin, breathing hard, and laughing.

After shaking much of the water off their coats, they hung them on the hooks by the door, dropped their bags near a table and crossed the dim room to the bar. Ned, the bartender, came down to their end. “What’ll it be? A tall ale, or a warm toddy?”

“We’d prefer a flight home.” Jasmine sighed and sat on a stool.

“Sorry. I used up all the magic the leprechaun gave me when I found his pot o’ gold. I can do fish and chips along with that drink.”

Joey sat beside Jasmine. “A phone would be great. Our cell phones have no service.”

“Phone’s against the wall.” He tilted his head to the right.

As Joey walked to the phone, he heard Jasmine order a coffee. Well, she ordered a latte and Ned offered to load a mug of coffee with fresh cream and sugar.

“Quay House,” came the voice on the other end of the phone line.

“Hi, this is Joey Hughes. We checked out this morning. We can’t get a flight. Do you still have our rooms available?”

“Sorry, but we close down for the holiday weekend. You’ll have to try somewhere else.”

He hung up and returned to the bar. “Our bad luck continues. There’s no room at the inn.”

Jasmine’s face remained blank. “How many years have you been waiting to use that line?”

“Hey, I thought it was funny.” He sat down again, fighting a grin. “Ned, where can I find the numbers for the local hotels?”

Ned set a phone book on the counter. “It’s two days before Christmas, lad. I doubt you’ll be finding a place to stay tonight.”

The man was right. No rooms available anywhere since no one could leave Ireland. Joey hung up after the last call. “I’ll take that ale after all,” he said as he walked back to his stool.

“Where are we staying?” Jasmine held her mug with two hands as if keeping them warm.

“On the curb, I guess. Or we can sleep in the bus station if they don’t kick us out.”

Her eyes glistened with tears for the first time in all this chaos. “Seriously?”

He didn’t bother to answer.

Handing Joey a glass of ale, Ned said, “Did I hear you have no place to stay?”

“No rooms available,” Joey confirmed.

“Boys,” Ned called to a table where three old men sat. “This couple is needin’ a room until the storm passes. Who’s got a room to spare?”

“Not me.”

“The wife would kill me if I brought home a pretty young thing.”
 

The three men chuckled.

“What about that flat over Gilmore’s shop? It’s been empty since Kieran went off to uni.”

“Aye, give ol’ Gilmore a ring.”

Ned made the call and came back smiling. “You’d be in luck. It might be a bit dusty, but the room is available. Their shop is at the end of the block.”

Joey clenched his teeth. Please let room be Irish for apartment.
 

“Thank you so much!” Jasmine jumped up. “Come on, Joey. I want to put on dry clothes.”

He and Jasmine ran through the downpour to the last building, a small storefront with a second floor above. He slid to a stop when he saw the name on the door. Gilmore’s Fresh Fish.

Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Fáilte.” A round-faced older woman wearing an apron over her sweater and jeans greeted them. “You’ll be the couple Ned called about.”

“Yes,” Jasmine said. They introduced themselves.

Joey bit his tongue. All this use of the word couple where he and Jasmine were concerned made him itch.

“You’re lucky, we were just about to lock up.” Mrs. Gilmore pulled a key ring from her pocket. “Come ‘round to the back and I’ll show you the place.”

The door behind the fish shop opened to a tiny entry and a staircase leading to the second floor. Mrs. Gilmore unlocked the door at the top of the stairs. “Here we are. It’s been closed up tight for a few months, but it’s dry. There’s wood in the fireplace, and I’ll have my daughter bring more ‘round. That’s the only heat.”

She pointed to the door in a corner. “The water closet’s there. There’s a tub, too. No stove or refrigerator, but you’ll find a hot plate in the cupboard.”

“It’s perfect, thank you.” He hadn’t even thought about where to buy food. The light through the windows was fading, so stores would likely be closing soon. If they hurried, they could at least hit the pub for fish and chips. He took the key from Mrs. Gilmore and he closed the door behind her when she left.

Jasmine was staring at the single bed against one wall. “Uh-uh. No how, no way.”

“Fine with me, you can sleep on the floor. You’ve got more padding than I do, anyway.”

“Thanks, loads.”

He rolled his eyes. “Curves. You know. If I said you had no padding you’d still be insulted. Hell, take the bed. I don’t care.”

With the smirky grin of a girlfriend who’d won an argument, she said, “Cool.” She threw her bags on the bed.

He scratched his arm.
Couple. Room. Girlfriend
. He was getting hives from all this talk. Just because Jasmine’s best friend married the lead singer in the band, she’d better not get any ideas for herself. He didn’t do relationships, much less marriage.
 

Chapter Two

After changing into dry clothes, Jasmine and Joey went back to the pub for dinner. Her heavy coat was damp clear through on the shoulders, so she bundled in layers and wore her hoodie to keep her hair from getting any wetter.

With no overhang around the side of the building, they were soaked by the time they reached the store awnings in front. “Remind me why we didn’t bring umbrellas.”

“I don’t even own an umbrella.” Joey tugged the brim of his hat down.

“Maybe I should steal one of your hats.”

“Maybe I’d let you wear one if you asked nicely.”

Talking with him was like talking with her younger brother. Snappy retorts, each one trying to best the other. She would go nuts spending days alone with him. “Can we make a pact?”

Shoving his hands deeper into his pocket, Joey said, “Depends. What’s up?”

“Can we agree not to argue until we’re safely back in the states?”

“Who says we argue? You might be arguing, but I’m not.”

Jasmine gave him a sidelong glance.

He grinned. “Gotcha. Yeah, I’ll try to stop with the snarky comebacks. No guarantees, though.”

Sighing, she said, “I guess if you stopped completely, I’d wonder who the stranger was I shared a room with. Speaking of which, I hope you don’t snore.”

“Did I keep you awake during the flight over here?”

He had a point. She let the question hang in the air.

The pub felt even warmer than when they’d been there half an hour ago. It was heavenly. More locals had arrived, which meant more chatter and laughter. Jasmine found a table instead of sitting on a stool.

“I’ll go order.” Joey walked away.

By agreement, they’d all taken turns paying for meals and drinks, to make it easier than doing the math. Kenzi had offered to pay Jasmine’s way, but that would’ve made her feel like a fangirl, a hanger-on. She’d insisted on taking her share of the bills.

Joey returned with a pair of ales and set one in front of her. She sipped hers. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to warm ale.”

“It’s not warm. It’s cooler than room temperature.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. So much for not arguing.

“Sorry,” Joey said, setting down his glass. “Technically that wasn’t an argument. It was a correction of fact.”

“I forget you share lyric writing duties with Chaz. You have a way of twisting words to your favor.”

“That’s not it at all. I’m always right, no twisting needed.”

Laughing, Jasmine shook her head. Right or not, he always got the last word.

They made small talk while they ate, then sat sipping ale. Jasmine was definitely in no hurry to go back to their room. No cell service, no TV, and she hadn’t noticed any books or games or even a deck of cards to keep them from dying of boredom. She could only read on her phone for so many hours a day.

The piped-in music ranged from typical Irish music to modern pop, adding to the lighthearted feel of the pub. A few young people danced in the clear space in front of the fire. One tall, blond young man came to their table and spoke to Joey. “Do ya mind if I dance with your girl?”

Jasmine laughed, her sinuses burning when the ale nearly came out her nose.

Joey leaned back in his seat, motioning toward her. “Go for it.”

She was surprised that he didn’t make it clear she wasn’t his girlfriend.

“I’m Colin,” the blond said over the noise of the pub.

“Jasmine,” she replied.

“Where ya from?”

“California. Oakland.”

“What brings you to Kilmore Quay at Christmas? Do ya have family here?” He swung Jasmine around to dance.

“Just a vacation.” She wasn’t going into the whole wedding and avoiding paparazzi deal, nor the lack of transportation to London. For one thing, she wouldn’t “out” Joey. For another, this guy wasn’t someone she’d ever see again.

That might be kind of sad. His blue eyes held such laughter, he was probably a blast to be around. He was bound to be better company than Joey. Although Joey definitely had Colin beat on the hotness scale.

~*~

Nursing his ale, Joey watched the dancers. One dancer, truthfully. He’d seen Jasmine bouncing around with Kenzi and Bree—the third member of their little circle of friends—in the front row of Marino’s concerts. Those moves were nothing compared to what she was doing with that body now. Sensually swaying her hips with fluid grace. Laughing at something her partner said, her face lighting up.

An urge struck him to cut in. She didn’t know this guy. Joey was the only person she knew in the entire country. He needed to watch out for her. Like a big brother. Yeah, that’s it. A big brother.

Who was he kidding? He was actually jealous.

What a joke. She irritated the hell out of him. She spent so much time with the band, when they were in Oakland, at least. And on holidays she went wherever Kenzi went, which was wherever Chaz was.

And wherever Chaz was, so was Joey.

Maybe that’s what he needed to change. He had a house in Austin that he rarely saw. The band traveled half the year, and recorded for months at a time. In his spare time, he and Chaz wrote music.

His big house felt like a cavern when he was there. Even when he brought a girl home for the weekend, the place seemed empty. He’d hired an interior designer to furnish the large house. He didn’t care what it looked like. One day he would care, when life on the road had grown old. But that was some time off.

Jasmine’s laughter made him look her way again. The guy was twirling her under his arm. They were line dancing. Jasmine sashayed a bit harder than the other girls, shaking her ass like a mating call to the guys dancing with her.

Unable to take any more, Joey slammed back the last of his drink. He strode to the dance floor and lined up between Jasmine and the blond. He caught the beat right away but fumbled through the first moves.

Then he put his heart into it. He didn’t dance much while playing bass on stage, but he could move when he wanted to. When he caught Jasmine’s astonished look, one side of his mouth pulled back in a grin. Astonishment was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

The next song slowed things down. Joey grabbed Jasmine’s arm before anyone else could. “My turn.”

She tipped her head to one side, studying him. “Okay.” She drew the word out with incredulity.

He drew her close, fitting her body into his. His left had rested low on her back. The soft, outward curve of her ass rested beneath his fingertips, which now itched to explore downward.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you can move,” Jasmine said. Her perfume had faded, but when she leaned closer to speak to him, the scent drifted up. For some strange reason, smelling it now was so much different than when she’d passed him in the hallway that morning. Her body had absorbed it, made it a part of her. It was way too sensual for his liking.