Walking the Line (2 page)

“Ugh. Don’t you hate that?”

Kye grinned. “Shit yeah. The guy needs a
mentor—”

“And that’s you?” I snorted. “You’ll have him
corrupted in less than a day.”

Kye chuckled. “Reckon he needs me to be his
new bestie and that means I’ll be visiting you all the time.”

“Blackmail, Squirt, seriously?” I laughed at
his faux angelic expression. “Come on, what’s your angle on this?
Tell me the truth and I might consider hiring him.”

Kye’s amused expression faded. “We’re two of
a kind, El. Jaded cynics that can spot a shyster at twenty paces.”
He jerked his head at the glass. “We don’t trust lightly but I
could tell in the first five minutes that Finn’s one of the good
guys.”

I snorted. “Finn? Could he be any more
clichéd?”

“He is Irish.” Puzzled, Kye searched my face,
as if he couldn’t quite gauge my mood. “With the accent to prove
it.”

I wasn’t convinced that hiring an ingenuous
Irishman was the answer to my staffing problems but it would get me
out of a bind until I could hire someone more permanent.

And Kye was right. I didn’t trust many people
but I did trust his judgment. Guess I had myself a new
employee.

I found myself reluctantly nodding. “Okay.
Introduce me to this guy who’s going to save my arse.”

Kye winked. “And what a fine arse it is, I
might add.”

I punched him in the arm, hard, and we
elbowed each other as we headed into the bar.

ELLIE

My first thought on seeing Finn as he
swiveled on the bar stool to face me was
emerald eyes,
seriously, aren’t you taking the Irish cliché to extremes?

Though technically his eyes weren’t green,
more a combination of blue and jade, resulting in a startling
aquamarine that left me a little breathless. And I never lost my
breath over a guy. Not anymore.

Kye gestured between us. “Finn Ahearn, meet
Ellie Finch.”

Then Finn had to go and smile and dammit, he
had a dimple.

“Nice to meet you, Ellie.” He stuck out his
hand and I stared at it, shaken to my core.

That voice. That accent. Like Sean Connery
and Alan Rickman slugging it out in an audition to star in an Irish
feature film. So damn sexy.

I didn’t want to admit it, but I tingled.
Down there. In a way I hadn’t tingled in a
looooong
time.

“You too.” I shook his hand, releasing it as
fast as humanly possible, earning a raised eyebrow and sardonic
twist of his lips.

His lips
…full. Sensual. Kissable.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I didn’t lust over guys. I had the occasional
meaningless one night stand to scratch a physical itch. Guys who
knew the score. Bonking buddies. Guys far removed from Finn, an
intriguing blend of innocence and charm, like he wanted to be
naughty but didn’t know how to do it.

Time to cut my losses and run.

“Ellie’s short-staffed and I thought you
might want to help her out.” Kye slapped Finn on the back and
damned if the both of them didn’t look at me like some life-saving
angel.

So much for reneging.

“Can you start tonight?” Once again, I
sounded harsh and mean, but rather than get defensive as most
people did around me, Finn actually laughed.

“Absolutely.” He leaned forward a little,
amusement quirking his mouth. “If you personally show me the ropes,
that is.”

Oh my God. The guy was flirting with me? In
front of Kye? I’d never hear the end of it.

“Come back at seven. We open at eight.” I
looked him up and down, wishing I hadn’t. Lean legs, zero abdominal
body fat, decent pecs and biceps a girl could grip onto while
riding him all night long.

That observation was so not helping.

I probably needed to get laid. It had been
about four months. Not that I counted or cared. But if my reaction
to the Irishman I’d just met was any indication, I needed to do the
horizontal shimmy with a buddy sooner rather than later.

“Wear black pants and a white shirt,” I said,
turning on my heel and stalking back toward the office. Not before
I’d seen Kye’s knowing smirk.

Damn, the kid knew me too well. I was rattled
and it showed.

“Thanks, Ellie,” Kye called out, a teasing
lilt in his voice, and I raised my hand without looking back.

“See you later,” Finn said, and damned if my
insides didn’t quiver. The deep, sexy voice was bad enough. Throw
in the charming accent and all I wanted to do was turn around and
fire him before he’d started.

I made it to the safety of my office and
slammed the door. It didn’t help the uncertainty churning my gut as
I looked out through the one-way mirrored window, wondering what
the hell I’d just done.

FINN

Things were looking up. My passport had been
located near a bin at Circular Quay and the local police had
called. I had a job to replenish my meager cash stocks. And with
any luck, if I played my cards right, according to Kye I could have
a better living situation by the end of tonight.

But first, I had to charm Ellie.

Considering she seemed to hate me on sight,
it could be tough. But I relished a challenge and when Kye had
mentioned she had a spare room above the bar that she occasionally
rented out, I knew what had to be done.

Impress with my work ethic, rake in a stash
of tips and appeal to her gentle side. If she had one. I’d never
met a more prickly person. But the fact she’d given me a chance at
a job when Kye had asked meant there had to be a softer side
beneath the short spiky blonde hair, kohl-rimmed blue eyes, vivid
red-slicked lips and black leather.

She would’ve intimidated me once, that kind
of brash, bold woman. But I was through being the perfect son who
dated the perfect woman. I couldn’t be that guy anymore. Not for my
family. Not for me. And there was something about Ellie that
intrigued me on an intrinsic level. I’d felt sucker-punched in the
gut when she’d first looked at me, all wary defiance, as if she
expected me to punch back and would come out swinging.

So I’d done what came naturally. Flirted. Kye
had later mentioned I was lucky Ellie hadn’t kneed me in the balls
on the spot. But Kye had also mentioned he’d never seen Ellie so
defensive, which meant I’d crept under her guard. Something I
intended on doing throughout my training, starting now, as I caught
sight of her coming down the stairs tucked into the back
corner.

The first thing I noticed, she’d changed.
Swapped the black leather pants and jacket for a red, skin-tight
leather mini and a crimson bustier that pushed her tits up to
create an eye-popping cleavage. The second thing? She hadn’t lost
the scowl but my rock-hard cock didn’t seem to care.

“What are you staring at?” She marched behind
the bar, rested her hands on it, and glared.

“You look incredible,” I said, the simple
truth not garnering any change in expression from her. So I
switched to charm. “Can’t a guy appreciate the beauty of a woman?”
I didn’t add, ‘without getting his head snapped off.’

“You’re full of shit,” she said, sounding
utterly disgusted. “Now do you want to learn the ropes or not?”

“I’m all yours.” I stepped around the bar to
stand close. Close enough to smell an alluring fragrance
reminiscent of the short stopover I’d had in Hong Kong: Oriental,
mysterious, heady. “Do your worst.”

She stiffened, her squared shoulders giving
me another eyeful of that enticing cleavage. “Cut the bullshit
flirting, okay? I’m immune.” She tapped her watch. “Save it for the
customers, who’ll be arriving in less than an hour.”

Rather than give in, I pushed myself up onto
the bar, sitting on it so I could face her. “Don’t you like
flirting?”

“What do you think, Einstein?” Her withering
stare would’ve shriveled the balls on a lesser man. But I wasn’t
backing down. I needed to be in that room over the bar later
tonight and that meant whittling away at her defenses, one quip at
a time.

She puffed out a long breath. “Look, it’s
been a long week. You either want this job or not. Me? I don’t give
a shit but Kye’s a good guy and he asked me to hire you as a
favor.” She pointed at the beer kegs. “So you either get your arse
off my bar and start showing me what you’ve got or you can piss
off.”

I’d like to show her what I had but then I’d
be back to square one: no money and living in that hellhole
hostel.

Appearing suitably chastised, I slid off the
bar and landed on my feet. “I appreciate the job. And Kye is a good
guy, because for some unknown reason he took pity on an idiot
Irishman this afternoon, not only preventing me getting bashed, but
getting me this job too. So thanks.”

Her response was a brief nod but I noted the
softening around her mouth.

“I’ve worked in pubs back home, so I’m used
to pulling a pint or two.”

At last, she looked at me, and she’d lost the
mean glitter in her eyes. “Where you from?”

“Cork. Ever been to Ireland?”

For a second I swore I glimpsed sadness
lurking in those big, blue eyes before she shook her head.

“So you’ve lived in Sydney your whole
life?”

She hesitated, glanced away. “Came here in my
late teens. Was a small town girl before that. Never
travelled.”

“Me either. This is my first trip and I only
came here because…” I trailed off, not wanting to divulge the
entire truth, because it’d make me sound like a sissy.

“Because?” she prompted, staring at me with
interest. At least I had her full attention.

“Because my family wants to migrate here and
my grandfather pulled strings to get me a turf management position
as a way of testing the lay of the land.”

To my astonishment, the corners of her mouth
curved into a semi-smile. “You’re their scout? Checking that we
don’t have kangaroos roaming the city streets?”

“Yeah, go figure.” I smiled and for a long,
drawn out moment it felt like we connected. “Lucky for you, I’m no
boy scout.”

Rather than bristle and shut down as
expected, she rolled her eyes. “That pesky flirting is just part of
your Irish charm, isn’t it?”

I leaned in closer, buoyed when she didn’t
edge away. “Is it working?”

“Hell no,” she said a tad loudly and I
laughed.

“Guess I’ll have to keep trying then.”

She held up both hands. “Please don’t.”

“Nice to know you think I’m charming though.”
I winked. “Gives a guy something to work on.”

“The only work you’ll be doing around here is
this.” She gestured at the bar. “I’ll show you where everything is,
watch you pull a few beers, then throw you in the deep end.”

“I’m up for it.”

For the second time in as many minutes our
gazes locked. Hot. Loaded. Potent.

And suddenly, gaining access to the room
upstairs was more than having a decent place to stay.

It meant I’d be closer to Ellie.

ELLIE

Working with Finn was hell.

Pure,
yanking-out-eyebrow-hairs-one-at-a-time, Brazilian-wax, torturous
hell.

Being understaffed, I’d had to work the bar
alongside him tonight. So I’d been privy to his constant sexy
smiles, his incessant flirting and the panty-dropping charm that
seemed to come as natural to him as breathing.

And while he did it with everyone, he seemed
to focus most of it on me. I’d tried freezing him out, shooting
death glares, even the odd name-calling. The result? He tried
harder. What was worse, I actually liked it.

I didn’t flirt. I didn’t encourage guys. I
donned my armor every morning, from my foundation to the five ring
piercings in each ear, and faced the world head on. That was
another thing; when I’d walked downstairs earlier, the way he’d
looked at me seemed like he could see beneath my deliberately
chosen leather exterior to the real me beneath. It had disarmed me
more than anything and I’d wanted to fire him on the spot.

Kye had been right about the optimism thing
too. I’d heard Finn say he’d had his money stolen by some chick at
the backpackers’ where he was staying, had lost his passport and
had his pockets picked, but then he’d waxed lyrical about Sydney
and made the crappy stuff sound insignificant.

The guy was one of those annoyingly chipper
people who bounced through life with a permanent smile on their
face, oblivious to the darker realities. I couldn’t stand that kind
of blatant cheeriness. It grated. And made me want to shake some
sense into him.

But then Finn would turn some of that warm
liveliness on me and for an all-too-brief second I’d forget the
reasons why I’d morphed into a hard bitch and allow myself the
luxury of basking in his all’s-right-with-the-world happiness.

Eager to get the hell away from him, I slid
the last bolt home on the front door. “I’ll pay you for tonight
then you can leave out the back.”

“Actually, could we talk?”

Liquid warmth pooled in places it shouldn’t
and I inwardly cursed my body’s reaction to his voice. “What’s
up?”

“Firstly, aren’t you going to commend me on a
stellar job?” He grinned like a proud little boy who’d mastered
toilet training. “Several of those customers said they were moving
on to other clubs but ended up staying here all night.”

Annoyed that he was right, I crossed my arms.
“And you think that’s because of you?”

“Damn right.” He perched on a bar stool and
patted the one next to him. “They enjoy my flirtatious charm as
much as you do.”

I frowned. “But I don’t.”

“Liar,” he said, so softly my skin rippled
with goose-bumps. “You love my charm.”

I snorted and reluctantly took a seat beside
him, only because my new three-inch heels had murdered my feet.
“You can turn it off now. Your audience has left.”