“Is that a threat?”
He winks and pushes my shot forward. “It’s a warning. Now, see, I’m gentleman, so I’ll go first.” Sitting back against the cushion of the booth, he pretends to think hard, the lines in his forehead deepening. “This is the first real date I’ve had in eight years, I love my job, and I absolutely fuck on the first date.”
“Gentleman, huh? Is that why I’m the one with a drink in my hand instead you?”
Niall wags a finger at me and takes another sip of his beer. “You’re stalling.”
“Well, while that’s probably the most ballsy last statement I’ve ever heard, you’re a guy, so it’s probably true. That leaves me with the other two.” I run my nail along the rim of the shot glass and squint an eye at him. “Let’s see, you’re good looking, outgoing, funny, and American women swoon over accents, plus you work for one of the most prestigious marketing firms in New York. I’m going with door number one. You’ve had lots of dates.”
Like taking candy from a baby.
Never taking his eyes off me, he pushes my shot of whiskey in front of me. “Drink.”
“What? I got it wrong? No way.”
“Do you always take shite at face value, Laken? Somehow you don’t strike me as that gullible.”
No way am I answering that. Grabbing the shot off the table, I take a slow sip. “So, which one did I get wrong?”
“Are you going to shoot that, or do I need to get you a nipple for it?”
Nipple? Holy hell.
My head snaps up and with one glance, my breathing becomes erratic and my thoughts go haywire. His penetrating stare is almost more than I can take, so I slam the shot, burn be damned and consequences be damned.
And apparently, the lining of my throat be damned, because fuck me, Irish whiskey is no joke. What the hell is in that shit? Liquid fire?
Niall watches me with curious eyes, ignoring my hacking coughs and gasps for breath. “I’m not usually a trusting person, Laken. I honestly don’t see a need for dating when I can just get a good fuck or blow job for a hell of a lot less hassle.”
“Well, that’s straight and to the point.”
“You’re not a fan of sex?” A vague smile plays at one corner of his mouth.
“Oh, I’m a fan,” I admit, holding his stare. “I just think if you flirt with born-again virgin territory enough, there’s a point where you start moving more toward fair-weather fan than die-hard.”
“Now that’s a shame,” he says, raking a stare down the front of my dress. “Because one night with me, and I think your position would change.” Raising his eyes, the gold flecks in his eyes glitter. “Repeatedly.”
Shit, did someone turn up the heat in this place? Suddenly I can’t breathe. Focus, Laken! Hell, focus on anything except the thought of him bending you over the—
“Tell me about your family,” I blurt out. Oh, well, that’ll do it. Nothing limps a dick quicker than making a guy think about his mom.
But Niall just smiles. “They’re still in Ireland. My father owns his own pub. I grew up in that musty old place, but it was home. My mother is a photographer too. She’d take me out on her adventures, she called them, to experience life. She always argued that I’d learn more in one afternoon observing people through a lens with her than a week in school. She was right.”
“She sounds like an amazing woman.”
“She’s the reason for my love of photography as well as my distrust of corporate America. Don’t get me wrong, the Tates and the Canes are good people at heart. I really like Noah and Olivia. I’m a pretty good judge of character, I think, but when you add in lawyers, middle management, accountants, shareholders, and board members, then politics and greed tend to overshadow everything. People lie to get ahead.”
People lie to get ahead.
People lie to get ahead.
People lie to get ahead.
The phrase repeats in my head like a broken record. A shudder tears through me and I fight a wave of guilt. “Maybe they do it for reasons they wish they could explain.”
Niall pins me with a hardened stare. “Have you ever had your life turned upside down because of lies and greed?”
“Well, no…”
