January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology (36 page)

I shook my head repeatedly not able to comprehend how unique and utterly random the sight was. “What’s the deal with St. Patrick’s Day anyway?”

Tony pulled us both close, eyes glued to the water while he spoke. “It’s a celebration of the bringing of Christianity to Ireland. For this day, the Catholic Church lifts the ban on alcohol and fasting for Lent to celebrate.”

For a moment, I thought hard about what he’d said. “Are you Irish?” I looked up at Hector and he shook his head grinning. I turned and focused on Tony.

“Nope,” Tony responded.

“Then what’s the big deal?” The importance of this event made absolutely no sense.

Tony pointed out to the water as if he was Vanna White. “An entire river was painted green in observance of a Saint from my faith. Anything related to the church is a big deal,” he said deadpan. A tiny quirk curved the edge of his lips. I could feel the grip of his fingers around my bicep as he tried to hold back what was most certainly laughter.

“You just like to party. Admit it!” I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow.

“Ouch!” He laughed out loud and Hector joined in. “Come on Mia, we’ve got a pub with our name on it.”

My eyes widened as the cool air flapped my hair into Hector’s face. “Sorry.” He winked and continued forward. “You guys own a pub, too?”

Tony chuckled. “Have you always been so literal?”

“Not especially, but I don’t usually hang out with rich dudes. I figure anything is possible when you guys are playing with your monopoly money.”

“Come on, it’s time to make friends with an Irish lad named Jamison.” Tony’s large form helped deflect the wind that was pummeling me. 

“You know, that Jamison, he’s an old friend of mine. It will be nice to get reacquainted,” I grinned.

“Now you’re talking!” Tony beamed and led us to the car.

***

The guys brought me to a place called Declan’s Irish Pub. We entered through a huge red door with black wooden trim. The sign outside was black with the words “Declan’s” in gold cursive script. It was dark inside. A humming noise could be heard all around as we navigated through the patrons and found our way up to the bar. Three seats right up front were empty. A shot glass with a paper napkin on top that had the word “Reserved” written in black sharpie sat in front of the empty seats. Tony held out my stool and I sat down.

“Reserved seats at a bar?” I laughed shaking my head.

“Every year,
chica.
” Hector said.

“I know a guy,” Tony said in that thick Chicago Italian drawl I’ve gotten used to over the past three weeks.

“You think you know a guy you fucking dago!” The bartender held out his hand. Tony leaned over the wooden bar and brought the ginger-haired man to his chest for a man hug. “Dec, how the hell are you, you fucking mick!” Tony spat out his own derogatory remark. For women, those would be fighting words. The red-head just took it in stride.

“Eh, business is good.” He held his arms out gesturing to the full bar.

“It’s St. Paddy’s ya jagoff. Of course it’s going to be packed.” Tony continued to mess with the man who he’d called Dec.

“Who’s the
Stella
? I know she isn’t yours.” The man’s green eyes went to Hector’s knowingly. Hector put out a hand and shook Dec’s hand.

“This here is Mia. She’s a friend from out of town and we’re showing her around.”

“And of course you had to bring her to my pub, because it has the best food and whiskey in Chicagoland.”

“Fuckin’ A,” Tony responded, his accent thick as wool.

“Well Mia, it’s a pleasure. I’m Dec, or Declan.” He held out his hand, I placed mine in his, but instead of shaking it he brought it to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. A little flurry of excitement tingled from my hand through my arm and over my body. His green eyes dazzled as he waggled his eyebrows.

Tony knocked my hand out of his. “Knock it off asshole. Now where’s our drinks? And some menus.”

Dec laughed, threw a bar towel over his shoulder and slid us three menus. Then he promptly poured us each a shot of Jamison Irish Whiskey and one for himself.

We all held out our shots, clinked glasses as Dec said, “Bottoms up!”

My phone pinged in my back pocket at the same time I slammed the shot glass back down on the table.

From: Wes Channing

To: Mia Saunders

Happy St. Patrick’s Day. You know what they say about green eyes?

Hector’s eyebrow rose toward his hairline when he saw the smile on my face. I held the phone close to my chest and read the message. Hector blatantly read over my shoulder, so I gave up and put it in front of both of us as I typed back.

From: Mia Saunders

To: Wes Channing

No, I don’t. What do they say?

Instantly he responded.

From: Wes Channing

To: Mia Saunders

Where are you?

From: Mia Saunders

To: Wes Channing

An Irish Pub in Downtown Chicago called Declan’s. Are you going to tell me what they say about green eyed girls?

From: Wes Channing

To: Mia Saunders

They’re always up to something. Are you up to something?

From: Mia Saunders

To: Wes Channing

As a matter of fact, yes. Getting my drink on. Happy St. Paddy’s Day!

I waited a few minutes but no response came. Strange. He must have been called away. Hector and I shared a glance then he shrugged, lifted up a hand and pointed at the two empty shot glasses. Declan promptly filled our glasses. “Want a beer, too?” he asked. 

“Hell yes!” I slugged back the whiskey and breathed fire. The burn was nothing to the thoughts that were spinning around and around about Wes. Thinking of him too much and too often was foolish, and I was no fool. “And more shots!”

For the next hour, Hector and Tony told me stories of their youth, how they met Declan at Columbia and crazy enough, they all ended up in Chicago. Been friends ever since. Stood to reason why Declan surreptitiously insinuated he knew of their true relationship. He must be one of the few. Turned out he was also one of the guys that did the naked run across the football field.

All three guys had me in stitches until the laughter took its toll on my overfull bladder. I got up from my chair and swiveled around.

“Where you going?” Tony put a hand to my bicep.

“Breaking the seal.” I shimmied in my jeans a little from foot to foot.

Tony’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Nah, don’t do that. You’ll fuck yourself. You’ll have to piss every twenty minutes now.”

“Can’t help it! And shut up!” I punched his arm and he acted affronted.

“Lightweight.” He rubbed at his arm smiling. I knew for a fact I’d hit him pretty hard. Hopefully, he would have a nice purple bruise to show for it. Doubtful though. Those cannons were pretty tight. Probably felt more like a pinch than a punch. I snickered to myself about his caveman-like size as I made my way to the bathroom.

I did my business, washed my hands. In one of my more girlie moments, I bent over, flung my hair forward, and tussled my fingers through it and swung back up giving it some body. I had to throw out a hand to hold myself up. Time to eat. The whiskey was doing a number on me, and without food, I knew I’d be on the floor soon. Fucking lightweight my ass. Men think they have it all up over women. They don’t know shit. Excuse me if I’m half the size of the giant who can drink a bottle to his head and probably not feel a thing. He should be happy I was a cheap date. Humphf. Indignant, I walked back out and pushed my way into the crowd.

It had picked up quite a bit since we first arrived. The after dinner crowd was fully in place and the pub was hopping with bodies everywhere. Celtic music played loudly keeping the Irish vibe going. I started wiggling to the beat when I ran face first into a hard body.

“Ouch,” I rubbed at my nose and lifted my head. Even with all the colored lights providing a halo around his form my eyes were riveted to his green ones. I gasped not really believing he was standing there, right in front of me.

“Aren’t you going to say anything, sweetheart?” The long dirty blond layers of his hair fell into his eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re here…”

His green eyes scanned my body. “Christ, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Come here.” And then I was there and he was there. My Wes. His lips were warm as they met mine. He tasted of mint and smelled of the ocean. God, I missed the ocean, the salty breeze…
him
. One of Wes’s hands held my head in place while his other pulled me close. Our bodies were smashed together. Nothing existed but him and the electric pull of my body to his. I licked the seam of his lips and he opened, allowing me entrance.

Flawless.

Kissing Wes was flawless. Energy spiked in a ball around us as the crowd pushed us this way and that. A bunch of ‘excuse me’ came from somewhere, but we didn’t stop. Couldn’t. The magnetic connection spiraled through us both. He kissed me the way it’s done in the movies when a man comes back from war and finally sees the woman he loves. Basically, like I was his whole world, and right now, he was mine.

“Holy fuck, get off her!” Tony’s voice broke through the crowd only moments before I was ripped away. My arms held out like a marionette’s needing its puppet master.

“No, Tony no!” Hector said and pushed himself between Wes and Tony.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Wes stepped forward crushing Hector and me in the process.

“No, no, Wes, no! That’s Tony!” I pressed hard into Wes’s chest trying to hold him back.

“Yeah, and he needs to get his hands off you or we’re going to have problems.” Wes growled, eyes burning, intent on Tony.

“Is that so?” Tony pushed into us, his frame forcing us into a sandwich. 

“Guys, stop. Wes, that’s my client. Tony, that’s my uh, Wes!” I screamed trying desperately to be heard over the loud music.

Tony’s eyes narrowed and Hector pushed him back. “Baby, that’s her guy. You know the one I told you about, the surfing movie maker?” I closed my eyes and held my arms out to keep Wes away.

“Your guy? Your surfer movie maker?” Wes chuckled and pulled me to his side. “Is that what you call me?” He whispered into the side of my neck, sending all kinds of happy tingles pinging along my nerves.

By then, the whiskey had caught up with me, perfectly ruining any filter mechanism I had in place and I blurted, “I could have said, Mr. Fucks Like a God? Would you have preferred that?” I put my arms loosely around his neck and got close, really close. He rubbed his forehead against mine.

“Hell yeah, I’d prefer that. As a matter of fact, tell that to all your clients and any prospective dates and boyfriends from here on out.”

I snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Very much so. Can I meet your friends now that the big one isn’t going to pummel me into next week?”

“Oh yeah!” I turned around and Wes put his hands on my hips. Both men watched the action. Hector grinned, Tony scowled. “Guys, this is my friend, Wes. Wes, this is Tony and his er…Hector.” I ended with.

“Hector’s my
partner
,” Tony admitted loud enough for some of the folks around to hear, not that anyone was paying attention or knew him. Still, it was a massive step in the right direction. First the kiss at the river and now a public proclamation? My eyes shot to Hector’s. His face detailed his surprise along with a hint of excitement, maybe even love. Then again, Hector always looked at Tony with love in his eyes. It was part of why I enjoyed him so much. He was easy to read and always said what he was thinking and feeling. Honesty like that was unheard of in the circles I’d frequented.

“Wes, sorry about that. But you know, drunk men, a beautiful woman, people can get handsy. I was just looking out for her,” Tony slapped Wes on the back and shook his hand with the other.

“Appreciate it. It’s good to know my girl is being protected,” Wes offered. 

My girl
. He’d said it when I was with him and he’d said it again. Boy, was I in trouble.

“Well now that you’re here, come on over and have some drinks with us.” Tony said.

“Don’t mind if I do. Lead the way.” Wes held out a hand for Tony and Hector to go in front of us.

We all sat down and Wes pushed his chair close enough that he could put his arm around me. It was a clear sign of possession, and I didn’t know what to do with that or how to take it. The whiskey pumping through my system wasn’t helping because I’d allowed the gesture without saying a thing.

“How long are you staying in Chicago?” Hector asked.

“Just tonight. I’ve got a flight back to Los Angeles first thing in the morning. Since I was here though, I thought I might meet up with Mia. Hope that was okay?”

I looked up into his sea green eyes and got lost. His lips shined against the lights of the bar and his hair fell onto his forehead. I reached up and pushed it back. He lifted a hand and cupped my cheek. Without realizing it, I leaned into the touch. Not having his affection the last two months was like surviving a drought and only now was I getting a small sip. I needed more. So much more.

“More than okay.” 

C
HAPTER 9