Love Delayed In Dublin Read online

  “Sparkling… it was nice meeting all of you.” She beamed.

  Each of them nodded and smiled at her. Conor watched her walk away and take a seat at the table while he filled a glass with sparkling water.

  When he lifted the bar flap and headed in her direction, they all gave him a thumbs up.

  Jordan had taken the chair that had her facing the wall, with her back to everyone.

  He sat across from her and slid the drink towards her. For a moment, he forgot what he was going to say.

  She took a sip of her drink and then glanced up at him.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” It was the only thing he could think to say.

  Her lashes brushed her cheeks.

  If it was possible Jordan was even more gorgeous than he remembered. Her skin glowed a beautiful brown. Her hair had grown a bit longer. They’d been in their early twenties when they met and now with them both having reached thirty, she’d gained probably a stone, but it looked good on her. She’d been a gorgeous girl then, but now she was a sexy, curvaceous woman.

  Over her shoulder, he could see the lot of them straining to hear their conversation. They would get no privacy here.

  “I would really like for us to talk.” He hoped she knew how sincere he was. There was a lot he needed to say, but he also had a million questions.

  She gave him an earnest look. “Me too.”

  “It’s just impossible to have any privacy here as you can see.” A quick glance in their direction, told him they were all still openly eavesdropping. Hoping to hear bits and pieces of their conversation. Bloody hell.

  He looked back at her. “Plus, things are going to get very busy soon.” He didn’t want her to think he was trying to get rid of her. It’s just… he didn’t want their first real conversation after all this time to be interrupted or ruined by that nosy lot. God forbid Cashel or Eoin turned up while she was here, and he was busy dealing with patrons. Who knows what they would ask or say.

  “What about tomorrow morning? The hotel has a nice restaurant. You could come for breakfast.”

  The suggestion was welcome. Already, he wished it were tomorrow. He would have countered with meeting her tonight, but he needed to sit with his father. Whenever possible he tried to avoid asking the home health care worker to stay longer without advanced notice. Unfortunately, of all nights, Cash had a job. “Aye. I’d like that. Where are you staying?”

  “The Ivy Garden Hotel.”

  “Very posh.”

  They sat in a comfortable silence, looking at one another. The trickle of people coming in turned into a steady stream. Siobhan could be heard giving lip to a man that was trying to order a drink.

  “I better get back to it before Siobhan murders one of the customers. She’s already acting the maggot and she just got here.”

  “Acting the maggot?” Jordan chuckled. “I have a lot to learn.”

  “I’ll teach you.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to grow so husky when he said the words.

  Jordan shivered, and it wasn’t because she was cold. She gathered her purse and stood. He stood too.

  “Tomorrow then?”

  “Aye, tomorrow.” He wanted to hug her, but he was still uncertain about why she’d come or what was between them, so he refrained. It took superhuman willpower not to touch her, pull her into his body and feel all the curves that were on display in that dress. He hadn’t realized he was perusing her body until he saw the silky expanse of her thigh peek out from the slit in her dress.

  His gaze snapped up to meet hers. He would have apologized, but didn’t want to call attention to it, if she hadn’t seen him ogling her.

  Conor watched her until she disappeared out the door.

  “Put your eyes back in your head, lad.” Fergus teased him.

  A smirk crossed his face and he headed back to the bar. He felt lighter than he had in a long time. Even though he didn’t know why she was here, he was glad she was. Jordan was here in Dublin.

  7

  Jordan

  Outside on the terrace of Elle’s Bar and Bistro Jordan waited for Conor. She had arrived a little early after a quick call to Les to check in. There were only a few customers already seated so she had been able to ask for a table that offered more privacy. She preferred their conversation not be overheard.

  Today, she’d chosen an outfit that was a bit more laid back. She wore olive colored moto jeggings underneath a white, oversized, off the shoulder summer sweater and some brown ankle boots.

  The restaurant was cozy. There were throw pillows on the seats and wool blankets lay over the backs of the chairs. The heated outdoor terrace had been transformed into a botanical garden. Hanging ivy and blooming flowers covered the walls and hung overhead creating a romantic atmosphere. That hadn’t been her intention when she chose the place.

  Her gaze kept darting to the door. The bravado she felt yesterday had fled, her nerves were back, and she couldn’t stop fidgeting with the silverware. Seeing Conor yesterday had been like receiving a cool glass of water to quench your thirst after roaming a desert. There were all these mixed emotions that flooded her, but her heart, her mind and definitely her body had responded to him exactly like it had all those years ago.

  He was even sexier than she remembered. Men got better with age and that was certainly true for him. His hair had been a bit longer then. Now he sported a taper fade haircut that framed his face well. He was broader and had a more muscular frame. She also loved the beard. She thought he was hot back then, but the beard made him a genuine panty dropper now. What would it feel like scratching the inside of her…?

  When she looked up in the middle of that thought, heat instantly pooled in her nether regions. Conor was walking towards her. A couple of women turned their heads to look at him. He seemed very unaware of his sex appeal. The jeans that sat on his hips molded themselves to his powerful looking legs and other powerful parts of his anatomy. His casual, long sleeved button down had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off the strength in his forearms.

  Not once did he look around. He maintained eye contact and gifted her with an easy smile as he approached the table.

  Jordan was unsure whether she should stand and give him a hug or remain seated. Honestly, her legs wouldn’t move so she stayed in her seat and smiled up at him.

  “Hi.” She was sure she was grinning from ear-to-ear like someone possessed, but she couldn’t help it. Here she was in Ireland, having breakfast with Conor.

  “Hi.” He didn’t take the chair across from her but sat in the chair adjacent to her.

  They both gawked at each other with goofy smiles plastered on this face for what felt like an eternity. The waitress approaching finally broke them from their stupor.

  “Hello. What can I get you?”

  Jordan had taken the opportunity to look at the menu while she was waiting for him, so she knew what she wanted.

  “Ladies first.” When he made the statement, his leg brushed against hers beneath the table. It sent a jolt through her. She looked down at her plate. Had he done it on purpose? He was sitting close to her and he had long legs. It was bound to happen. He was making her feel like that young twenty-something girl all over again.

  When Jordan regained her composure, she glanced at the waitress and ordered. “I’ll have the full Irish breakfast, with poached eggs, and an orange juice.”

  The waitress turned to him. “And for you?”

  “I’ll have the same.”

  After the waitress left, Jordan was unsure what to say, where to start. The weather was always a safe topic.

  “It’s beautiful here.” She leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms over her head. “In Dublin that is.” She dropped her hands back onto her lap.

  Of course, he knows you mean Dublin you dope.

  The little bit she’d seen so far, had enchanted her.

  “When I die, Dublin will be written on my heart.” Conor recited.

  She’d heard the quote
before but couldn’t remember who was responsible for it. “Who said that?”

  “James Joyce.”

  “I didn’t know he was from here. I thought he was English.”

  “Och, how dare you.” Conor said in mock outrage. “No self-respecting Irishman wants to be mistaken for an Englishman. Joyce would turn over in his grave.” He chuckled.

  “Is that how you feel about Dublin?” She grew serious.

  He seemed to sense the shift in the mood. A reflective look crossed his face as he stared off into the distance. “Dublin is my home… I love the city, but I wouldn’t mind living somewhere else.”

  There was more she wanted to say, but the waitress appeared with their plates.

  Upon inspecting the contents of her plate, Jordan frowned and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “What is that?” She picked up her fork and poked at some kind of pale looking meat.

  Conor threw his head back and laughed. “It’s rashers. Bacon.”

  “Why does it look like that? It doesn’t look like it saw the inside of a skillet to me.” She pushed the offensive looking breakfast meat to the edge of her plate.

  “It’s smoked. I forgot you Americans eat streaky bacon.”

  “I don’t want it. You can have it.”

  When he reached over to lift the so-called bacon from her plate, she noticed his left hand was bare. There wasn’t even the indentation where a ring might have been or a tan line.

  Having him eat off her plate was very intimate. It gave her pause. They were having these funny and polite conversations, but she needed to know what happened eight years ago. Why had he ghosted her? She sat her knife and fork on the edges of her plate.

  Without preamble, she asked the question that had plagued her for years. “Why didn’t you come back to New York? Call, email me… write?” The words were spoken softly without malice.

  Conor looked down into his plate. He placed his silverware back onto the table and didn’t say a word.

  She continued. “You told me you were coming back. For a few months, I asked Harrison about you, but he didn’t know anything. I couldn’t find you on social media. I had no address or phone number. You just fell off the face of the earth… It made me wonder if everything that happened between us that night was a lie. Was the way I feel about you even real.” The present tense of the word feel had already slipped out of her mouth before she realized what she’d said.

  His eyes flicked up to meet hers. He’d caught that too. She swallowed but held his gaze.

  “What have you been doing these last eight years?”

  No matter what he was going to say, she couldn’t look away. This is what she had come all this way to hear.

  Conor leaned his elbows on the table and studied her. She felt a bit unnerved the way he was looking at her, but she didn’t turn away.

  “During my visit home to enjoy the holiday and take care of things with my visa, my Da had a stroke.”

  “Oh.” Jordan felt like an idiot.

  “When it first happened, I was stupid enough to believe he’d get better. Before I knew it, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. He didn’t get better. He ended up paralyzed on his left side. My mother had been gone for a while at that point. Cashel, my baby brother was only fifteen. There was no one else. It fell to me to take care of things. If I hadn’t stayed, the pub that had been in the family for more than a hundred years would have been lost… I didn’t have a choice… I’ve been here running the pub, taking care of my Da and making sure Cash stays out of trouble.”

  She reached over and laid her hand on top of his. “I’m sorry.”

  His hand was warm beneath hers.

  Jordan felt like an ass for assuming he’d been living his best life this whole time and she’d just been forgotten about. Not once had she imagined that the reason he never came back had something to do with his family. She was a selfish jerk.

  “By the time my brain could think about Uni in New York, architecture… or you…” He stared into her eyes. “I just knew a girl like you wouldn’t stay alone long. I figured what was the use. You’d probably moved on.”

  She let what he said sink in.

  “Did you move on?” Conor hadn’t taken his eyes off of her the whole time he spoke. Even now he stared at her intently. “Are you married?”

  Jordan shook her head. “No.”

  That one word seemed to open up things between them. Conor rotated his wrist so that their hands were now palm to palm. She noticed the gesture, but refused to look at their hands.

  “I didn’t see a ring… I take it you’re not married either?”

  Please say no.

  Conor shook his head and gave her a small smile. “No.”

  He moved his hand, so he now clasped her hand in his.

  Her throat had gone dry. She was too afraid to speak. Conor wasn’t in a relationship. He was available, and right now, he was holding her hand, his thumb gently massaging the back of her hand.

  “Lately, I’d been thinking about this American girl I met a number of years ago. We had a whale of a time from the minute we met, during this wild and crazy New Year’s Eve. I liked her a lot, partly because she let me snog her quite a bit that night and she snogged really, really well.”

  Jordan smirked. Elation bubbled up inside of her. He’d thought about her too. The connection they had years ago hadn’t just been in her head.

  Conor leaned closer. “I was wondering…”

  The air had grown ten degrees warmer. It crackled and sizzled with the sexual energy that leapt between them.

  His voice grew huskier. “If maybe she still liked me… and if she’d let me snog her again.”

  Her eyes fell to his lips. It was all she could do not to squirm in her seat. The sexy tone of his voice made her panties soaking wet. She tried to play it cool.

  “I think I can add snogging to my schedule.”

  He leaned in even further, until their faces were a mere two inches apart, their noses nearly touching. She could smell the clean scent of soap and some other scents more masculine and earthy, like musk, sandalwood or rosewood.

  “Can you pencil it in right now?” His voice was so deep.

  This close she could see flecks of amber in the depths of his light green eyes that seemed the color of the tide.

  All she could do was nod, while his lips brushed against hers before he claimed her mouth. Willingly she opened up her mouth and invited him in. His hand was on her waist. When his tongue swiped against hers, she could taste the mint from his toothpaste. She slung her arm around his neck to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. He expertly mastered her mouth. It was better than she remembered.

  Time seemed to be forgotten, along with where they were. Someone nearby snickered and another person cleared their throat. Jordan could feel heat flush her face and neck when she pulled away from Conor. She licked her bottom lip and darted a glance at the nearest table. An elderly woman gave her a wink and a smile.

  “Oh, my goodness.” She buried her face against his shoulder.

  Josh had never cared for huge displays of PDA, so it had been a long time since she’d made out in public.

  “Are you embarrassed?” He teased her and brushed her hair away from her face.

  “You’re not?” She snuck a peek at him; too afraid the other patrons were still watching them.

  “Let them stare. I don’t care who sees me kiss you.” He kept stroking her hair and caressing her cheek and suddenly she didn’t care either. He leaned down and gave her one more, sweet kiss.

  “We should eat our breakfast. If I’d known how this was going to turn out I’d have made arrangements, but I have to go to the pub.”

  She sat up. “I could come spend the day with you… hang out.” There was nowhere else she’d rather be. The thought of separating from him right now was not appealing.

  A huge grin lit up his face. “You’d do that?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Don’t you have work or something like tha
t?”

  “I’m on vacation, remember?”

  “Aye.” He caressed her hand and then raised her fingers to his mouth and kissed them.

  “Eat.” He scooted his chair closer and tucked into the food on his plate.

  She giggled. “Someone’s very bossy.” She rather liked it. Damn, please tell me he’s bossy in the bedroom too.

  Eight years ago, they’d never gotten past snogging, but she was hoping to see just how bossy and in charge he was when the clothes came off.

  She took a bite of her food and chewed. Her gaze kept straying back to him. She was in Ireland, and she was with Conor Byrne… and he was hers.

  8

  Conor

  When they walked into the pub, the Three Wise Men were already sitting at the bar.

  “The two of you seem cozier than you did yesterday.” Fergus observed.

  They were still holding hands. Jordan grinned up at him and the sight of the happiness plainly written on her face made his heart swell.

  “Jordan is going to be spending the day with us.” Conor was still looking at her when he spoke.

  “Nice to see you all again.” Jordan let go of his hand and moved to sit on a barstool near the men.

  The three old men raised their beers to her. “And you as well, lass.” Desmond gave her a toothy smile.

  Conor lifted the bar flap and stepped behind the bar. Siobhan had just finished helping a customer.

  “You’re back? I see Conor didn’t run you off.” Siobhan popped him with a towel and smirked.

  Jordan shook her head. “Nope. I’m still here. I’ll be here for the next month.”

  When she mentioned she was here for the month, Conor was glad his back was turned. His hand stilled on the register, where he’d been counting the till. Everyone kept talking around him, but his mind was focused on what happened at the end of a month. Clearly, Jordan had a life back home in America, and he had a life here… well responsibilities and obligations anyway. He’d only just gotten her back. A month didn’t feel long at all.