Ruthless: An Irish Mafia Romance (Wild Irish Book 2) Read online

  “Can we meet?” I ask with closed eyes.

  “Sure, now?” My stomach tightens at his words.

  “Yeah, now. At the café” He agrees to meet me there in twenty. It will take me about fifteen minutes to reach it on foot. I’m not sure if what I am doing is right or wrong, but all I know is that I can’t have him near my nan ever again.

  I arrive and grab us an empty booth near the back. Hoping we can have a semi private conversation. I remove my coat and fidget with the menu as I wait. My blue nail polish which is the same color as my eyes is chipped, and I’m tempted to start picking at it, but instead, I file it away as a job to do later.

  I know when he’s arrived. He greets nearly everyone as he makes his way to me. He must be looking into each booth, but he knows this one was one we always sat at. When he appears, he smiles. “Just like old times,” he says with a smile that had once captured me. He looks good today, but he always does. I tell myself to stay on track. He slides in across from me and unzips his red top only to reveal a red t-shirt. My favorite color on him? Now I wonder if the color choice was intentional. He looks down and swipes a hand across it. “For you,” he tells me, and I want to slap him with the menu. But I manage a smile that doesn’t trick him as his own smile falls from his face.

  “You wanted to meet. So talk.” He’s all business, and the way he looks at me, tells me already that I am so far out of my depth with him.

  “My nan. She’s off limits.” I say it sternly even as he raises one blond eyebrow.

  “Is that like an order?” His lip tugs slightly as he speaks, as if me giving an order is funny.

  “Yes. Yes, it is, Brian. I don’t want her dragged into this. I won’t have it.” I force as much power into my words, but Brian is laughing, and I watch as he throws his head back and really laughs it up.

  “Oh little, Ava, you are so cute when you’re serious.” What an arrogant asshole. My blood boils, and I want nothing more than to get up and walk out of this place.

  “Okay, don’t get mad,” he says taking my hands that I immediately yank out of his.

  “Don’t touch me.” It’s out of my mouth before I can think, and his eyes darken, his laughter gone.

  “You know it was once. An accident.” He’s talking low, gently, and I just can’t, so I look away from him.

  “I’m sorry, Ava. It won’t ever happen again. Give me a second chance.” That was not going to happen.

  “I promise, I will leave your nan alone if you give me a second chance.”

  Now I glare at him as he sits back, looking smug, and my stomach roils at the idea of ever letting him touch me again, but keeping Nan safe was my number one priority.

  “Let me think about it.” I hope my words sound real. Brian tilts his head left and right before agreeing. I can’t say I feel relief, because I don’t, and I end up having to sit with him for another twenty agonizing minutes as he talks about himself. How had I not seen what a self-centred asshole he was?

  I leave the café and walk another ten minutes to Super Value. I need to buy some food. Shopping hasn’t been on the top of my agenda. But since Nan had mentioned how thin I had gotten, I decided that I needed to get some proper food in and stop eating takeaways.

  CHAPTER SIX

  AVA

  It’s a Thursday, so there isn’t many around in the grocery store. I grab a basket and start off in the fruit and veg section. I get a few bananas and some spuds and turnips. I’m browsing in the bread aisle, looking for non-white, maybe something nutty when a large frame moves further down the aisle, and he reminds me of the stranger from the other night in the bar.

  He doesn’t turn around so I take my time watching him and then focus on the bread for a moment, so I don’t appear like a stalker. His jeans fit him snuggly and he’s even larger now that I see him standing. He must be six foot or more. Wide shoulders covered in a green and navy checked shirt. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, and different colored bands are around his wrist. Large hands pick up a Swiss roll, strawberry flavored. I pick up bread and put it in my basket as I take a step closer to him. He’s still looking in the confectionary section, and maybe I could do with a pack of biscuits. I move even closer, and his cologne causes my stomach to squeeze. It’s a really rich and musky smell.

  I’m close enough that if I reached out, I could touch him. Picking up a pack of jammy dodgers, I put them in my basket. I’ve lingered too long and decide to move along but not without one more final glance.

  He’s watching me from under thick lashes. Lines mar his forehead like he’s confused, and it’s sexy as hell.

  “Hi,” I say, and his nostrils flare ever so slightly.

  “Ava, hi.” Him knowing my name is like a quick electrical shot to my body. Hearing him say it in his deep voice is more than nice. I don’t ask how he knows my name as he must have heard the guys call me a thousand times in the pub.

  He holds out his large free hand to me, and I stare at it like it’s a foreign object. “Connor,” he tells me his name, and I take his warm hand that still has bandages around the knuckles.

  “Nice to meet you, Connor.” I’m smiling now. He is a good head taller than me and peering up into his brown eyes could really tangle up a girl.

  “Didn’t take you for a jammie dodger kind of girl.” It takes me a moment to gather my hormones as he smiles, flashing a set of white straight teeth. My laugh is a little too high, and I try to settle down.

  “Didn’t take you for a strawberry Swiss roll kind of guy,” I say, and this time, he looks confused until he glances into his basket.

  “I didn’t put that in here. It must have fallen in,” he says as he places it back on the shelf, and I laugh.

  “No, I’m pretty sure you put the swiss roll in there.”

  He’s shaking his head, keeping a pretty straight face. “Are you sure?”

  I’m smiling now as I shift my basket from one arm to the other. “Yes. I saw you.”

  Now he smiles. “So you were watching me.”

  My stomach erupts with butterflies as he dips his head, looking at me once again from under his lashes.

  “No… Yes.” He’s laughing, and it’s like freshly melted chocolate. So good.

  He puts the Swiss roll back in his basket, and I can’t keep the stupid smile from my face.

  “Maybe we could grab a coffee.” He says it so off handily, but I’m nodding before I can form words.

  “I finish work around ten tonight if you want to get one then,” I have it said before I realize it sounds so silly.

  He’s smiling again. “Sounds great, Ava.” My name again sends my stomach somersaulting.

  “Okay, I’ll meet you outside my work place then, at ten,” I say just to clarify as I shift my basket again.

  “See you at ten.” I’m smiling, he’s smiling. I can’t believe I have a date and one that was set up in the confectionary aisle of a supermarket.

  “Bye,” I say to his retreating form, and he smiles over his shoulder and gives me a curt nod. Once he’s out of sight, I have the urge to do a little clap, but I don’t. Instead, I look around me and wonder if anyone was listening to our conversation.

  I only live like ten minutes away, but the walk with two heavy bags of grocery shopping is killing me. The only thing keeping me smiling is thinking of Connor. His name suits him. I like it. I have to put the bags on the ground as I get my key out of my pocket. I open the door and reach for my bag, but I want to walk right back out. Sean my landlord is standing in the hall, talking to the owner of the bookies.

  They both turn to me as I close the door behind me. The bookie owner, I can’t think of his name, has snow-white teeth, against an artificial tan, his hair is dyed jet black. The overall appearance is stark. His pink jumper and shirt just make him look ridiculous. I look at my landlord, Sean, now as he says goodbye to the bookie. His brown trousers and brown jumper suit his shitty personality. He turns to me with a face, and I try to get around him to go up the stairs to
my apartment, but he won’t move.

  “I don’t have your money today,” I tell him. I don’t tell him that I haven’t been paid from work. But he’s nodding.

  “I don’t want your money. I want you out. This is your two weeks’ notice.” He moves aside to let me go up the stairs, and I climb the steps with my head held high. I wasn’t going to argue, but I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.

  For a Thursday night, it was busy. Paul and his friends were back in taking up the pool table, and a few locals and some students made up the rest. I was the only one on. Patrick was in the office, so if I needed him, he wasn’t far away. I leave to collect glasses. Arriving back to put them in the washer, I see I have a new customer settling in at the bar.

  “A Carlsberg?” I ask as I make my way towards Connor. He looks good in a white polo shirt, the top few buttons opened letting me see tanned smooth skin.

  “A 7up would be great.” I raise both eyebrows with a smile, and he tilts his head and smiles, making my heart race.

  “I have a coffee date tonight. Don’t want to be drinking.”

  I’m smiling from ear to ear as I get him his 7up. “Who’s the lucky girl?” I tease, placing a beer mat in front of him before putting the glass on it.

  “She’s a barmaid. Really pretty.”

  His words are making my stomach twist. I wipe down the counter near him, before I flicker him a gaze. “I hope you have fun,” I tell him, and he nods, his smile gone as he glances at someone in the mirror behind me. My smile goes too as I look up only to have Harry the absolute asshole in front of me. I was surrounded by a lot of assholes in my life.

  “Ava, have you seen this man?” I don’t look at the picture he’s holding up.

  “No,” I answer Harry and try to walk away.

  “Ava, look at the picture.” Harry has the decency to add please when I stare at him. His small blue eyes shift back and forth, he can’t keep eye contact.

  “Now you decide to do your job?” I bark, knowing I’m being foolish. Harry leans in, stubble coating his face, making him look dishevelled. Some men looked sexy. He just looked like he needed a wash.

  “Have you something to say?” I can hear the undercurrent of a threat, so I give the picture about a two second glance and my stomach curls now. I’ve seen this man, but he wasn’t in the best condition. At the time, I had thought him dead until Brian had said he was really wasted, and Brian and another guy carried him out of the pub.

  “Why what happened to him?” I ask, and Harry waves the photo.

  “Have you seen him?”

  “No,” I say, lying to a Gardai for the first time in my life, but Harry shouldn’t be allowed on the force. He was bought by anyone who would give him money.

  “Lying to the Gardai is an offence.” I want to roll my eyes at him, but he just might arrest me to spite me.

  “It’s a good thing I’m not a liar,” I tell him and walk away to serve a customer. This time, he doesn’t stop me.

  It settles down, and Patrick arrives out of the back letting me finish my shift. I grab my bag and coat, but when I look up, Connor is gone.

  My heart deflates, and I find myself standing, staring at his stool longer than what was normal.

  “You okay?” It’s Patrick’s voice that shakes me out of my slumber, and I nod, force a smile, and decide to just head home. Well, what will be home for the next two weeks.

  I’m smiling, because as I step outside, I see Connor leaning against the wall of an abandoned building across the road. He gives me a salute, and his lip tugs up on the left as he jogs across the road.

  “Are you ready for the coffee?” he asks, and I nod while I start walking. Glancing at him, I see he’s following.

  “You like what you do?” His question is one that I know the answer to but hate saying it because I like Patrick so much. Stuffing my hands in my pockets keeps them warm against the cold.

  Connor has done the same. A heavy navy coat hides that fabulous white polo shirt and smooth skin.

  “Not really no. But it pays the bills sort of.” Now I’m mumbling, because it would pay the bills, but I have too many bills.

  “Sort of?” Connor questions, and I fire a quick glance at him sideways. He’s watching me.

  “Yeah it’s nothing. Just in a hobble, but I’ll get out of it. I always do.” I smile at him now, and he nods, but he doesn’t look convinced.

  We arrive at the café that I had only met Brian in, what was it, a few hours ago? But it was the best in town and stayed open until late.

  “Will we sit outside?” I ask, wanting to stay in the cool air. For me, being in a warm place and having to talk about myself made me uncomfortable, but outside, I felt like I could breathe and talk. I’m not entirely sure why, but it worked better for me.

  “Perfect. What will I get you?”

  I decide then, as I sit down, that Connor is definitely over six foot.

  “What height are you?” My question causes a smirk to grow on his face. “Six foot four. What height are you?”

  “Five foot six. And I’ll have a latte.” Connor nods, still wearing the smirk, and leaves to get our coffees.

  I inhale the fresh air while pulling my sleeves down over my fingers. There’s a bite in the night air, but I love how fresh it is. The small roads are now empty, and a few people stroll down the streets. Street lamps give a nice orange hue down on the cobbled pavements.

  I kept shifting in my seat while glancing at the door. The door and windows are covered in frosted glass, so I can’t see in. I cross my legs just as Connor arrives with two latte’s and one Danish.

  Taking my latte from Connor, I watch as he bends his large frame into the chair. Being this close to him has my stomach fluttering as his aftershave assaults me.

  “Have you lived here long?” This was the part of getting to know each other I hated. So I sip my latte as Connor rips the Danish in half. I take the half he offers me and tear off a small piece.

  “No. I moved to Kells like a month ago, but my landlord just gave me two week’s notice, so I’m not sure where to next,” I say it and bite my lip, surprised at the emotion leaving evokes in me. “What about you?” I ask while sipping my latte, which is so divine and frothy.

  “Whitewood area. I wouldn’t call it home. But it’s where I live.”

  “I know that area. It’s nice,” I say. My eyes once again get drawn to his hands, still bandaged. When I look back up, he’s watching me.

  “You should just ask. I’ve seen you look at my hands a lot.” I bite my lip again, hating how transparent I am.

  “Okay, what happened to your hands?” I ask with a shrug like it’s no big deal, and his lip tugs slightly before it settles down.

  “I fight for money.” Both my eyebrows rise. I wasn’t exactly expecting that. “Like Conor McGregor?” His laugh is deep and husky, and I drink it up.

  “No, not like Conor McGregor.” I’m nodding like I know that kind of fighting, but I don’t.

  “So illegal?” I spit out and want to kick myself as he looks at me from under his lashes and lines appear on his forehead.

  “Sorry, nevermind,” I say quickly. He sits back.

  “No it’s illegal. But I’m in between jobs, and right now, it’s cash.” I’m nodding like I get that.

  “Anything in mind you’d like to do?” I ask him, studying his full lips. They are moist from the latte.

  “I want to open my own shop.” That surprises me. He doesn’t look like the entrepreneur type. He is more like the construction type.

  “What kind of shop?” I pick at my Danish, and for the first time since we sat down, he looks uncomfortable and moves in his seat. His thumb rubs his upper lip.

  “Like art.” He’s frowning again, the sexy lines distracting me. “I make wooden ornaments.” His frown deepens, and I want to tell him to cut it out. I can’t even function.

  “What about you? What would you like to do?” He’s sitting back, the awkwardness gone; I’m back in t
he spotlight. I want to ask more about the wooden ornaments, but I can see we have moved past that.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. College isn’t for me. I don’t have any real skill. So, I’m not sure. I like working with people.” That’s true. I find I’m normally good with them.

  “Yeah, I see that in the bar. You are good with people.” His compliment is really nice, and I smile now.

  “But you didn’t seem to like the guard, an ex?” I nearly spit out my latte at his question.

  “Harry?” I ask while shaking my head and I can see that Connor is fighting to hide a smile. “No. No. He’s just an asshole.” A small laugh bubbles from his lips, and I’m transfixed.

  “Why is he an asshole?” Connor asks before drinking deeply from his latte. I don’t know if it’s how he asks, or what it is, but it’s like he’s trying to sound casual, but the question isn’t. My thought process makes no sense to me.

  “Ah it’s stupid history. Not worth talking about.” My answer has him nodding slowly.

  “I just thought it was deeper between you two.” I shift in my seat now, remembering how I had lied, and my moral compass is kicking in. Maybe lying hadn’t been the brightest idea. I wanted to change the subject. This was all making me uncomfortable. Picking up my latte, I answer him.

  “Nope just silly stuff. So tell me about these wooden ornaments.” Now he looks awkward, and I know it was a bit of a soft spot. But I really want to know.

  Connor takes in a deep breathe before leaning both arms on the table. “I carve people from wood.” He doesn’t look gentle enough to do something like that. But I take his word for it. We talk for a while longer until the café closes. It’s near midnight before Connor walks me to my apartment door.

  “So I had a lovely time,” I say while stuffing my hands in my pockets. His eyes have shot to my lips several times since we have stopped, and I wonder if he is going to kiss me.

  “Maybe we can do this again,” he says while jutting out his chin, and I’m smiling. “I’d love that.” My words have his lip tugging.