The Night We Met Read online

  “What’s the matter?” my father asked.

  What was the matter? Only about a million things. I tucked the nagging piece of hair hanging over my eye into my poor excuse for a bun and tugged at my T-shirt, trying to appear halfway presentable. It was crowded enough that I could’ve just avoided him and have my dad wait on him, which I more than likely would’ve done, if I didn’t have a mission to complete. A mission that was utterly absurd, now that I was laying eyes on this gorgeous man once again. There was no way I’d be able to get him to fall for me without being under the influence. I wasn’t ashamed to admit it—he was totally out of my league. I’m sure back home he only dated girls who were on his level. Ones who looked like supermodels. Ones who wouldn’t be seen in public if they had a hair out of place or a wrinkle in their clothes. Ones who’d resort to fifty sit-ups after eating one French fry. I was more than likely just a temporary fix until he could get back home to those beautiful women who more than likely awaited him or a terrible mistake after too much drinking. What the hell was Bridgette thinking when she came up with this plan?

  I sauntered over his way like a little leaguer getting ready to face a major league pitcher. I knew I was going to strike out, but for the sake of my family, I had to at least say I tried. In my short, apprehension-filled walk to the other side of the bar, I decided to play it cool. As far as I was concerned, we’d never met, much less slept together.

  “Here goes nothing,” I whispered to myself once I was only a few feet away from my handsome prey. “Hey there! What can I get ya?” I was unsure what was more obvious—my over-perky voice or the thudding of my pulsating neck.

  Casting an uncertain gaze upon me as he eyed me up, the corners of his mouth curved into that smile that led me right into his bed. “I’ll take a Gulden Draak.”

  That voice, that accent...like the sexiest Dracula I had ever heard. I was caught up in the moment, filled with a sense of wonderment over his good looks and amazement over that fact I had actually slept with him.

  “What’s the matter, Emmeline? Do you not understand my English?”

  The way he pronounced my name...ē-mē-line—I had never heard anyone botch my name up that badly and still manage to make it sound so sexy. What the hell? I snapped to attention. He knows my name? He remembers me? A heated flush rose to my cheeks. Now what? Emmeline was a name reserved for very few, and one I rarely ever introduced myself as. I must’ve been drunker than I thought.

  “I’m sorry?” I was trying one last ditch effort with the dumb card.

  Taking a step back, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He took something out then slid his hand across the bar. My eyes widened when he revealed my driver’s license underneath. The jig was up. It must’ve fallen out when I dropped my purse. “Cinderella leaves her shoe, and you leave your driver’s license?”

  “Look, I’m sorry. We were both pretty drunk, and I didn’t want you to feel like you owed me anything just because we slept together.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t have.”

  “Oh...” I tilled my head, a little taken aback by his frankness. My sister was right, he was a little full of himself. “Well, I just know how some girls could be, and I assumed you’d think I was that way...which I’m not, so—”

  “My beer, please?”

  My eyes narrowed over his abrupt dismissal of my explanation. “We don’t have that here. All of our German beers are listed—”

  “How do you know it’s German?” He toyed with me.

  “Well, I just assumed since you were German that the beer you asked for was German as well.”

  “How do you know I’m German?”

  “Your accent.”

  “You assume a lot of things, Emmeline. Don’t you? Perhaps you shouldn’t be so quick in your assumptions.”

  What the hell was his problem? There was no way in hell I could pretend to even like this guy, and judging by his self-important attitude, it wasn’t like I would even be afforded the opportunity to. Bridgette was going to have to go at it alone on this.

  “You’re correct on one point, Emmeline.”

  “My name is Emme!” I snapped.

  He picked up my license still sitting on the bar and studied it keenly. “That is not what your identification says.”

  “Emmeline is my proper name. My friends call me Emme.”

  Even that stomach-flipping smile that had spread across his face wasn’t making up for his arrogance. Look away from the dimples, Em. This guy is an ass!

  “Well, since I’m always proper, and I’m not your friend...I call you Emmeline.”

  My impatience and anger were escalating at an equal pace. “Okay, fine, since this will be the last time we ever speak, then you can call me whatever you want. Thank you for returning my license, and if there isn’t anything I can get you to drink, then have a nice night.”

  His hand covered mine as I went to snatch my license from the bar. “There you go making those assumption again.” There was a spark to his eyes, hinting at amusement over my flustered state.

  “Okay…and do tell, what are those assumptions I seem to be making?”

  “The beer I requested is Belgian, not German.”

  “Well, forgive me. I’ll make a mental note of that, in case another pompous German or whatever it is you are comes in and requests it.” I wanted to walk away and be done with the entire conversation, but his hand was still covering mine with a tightening grip.

  “I am German…you were right about that, but I seem to remember telling you that last night.”

  “Okay, great. So, you’re a German guy who likes Belgian beer. Can I go now?”

  He shook his head, his gaze becoming more intense. “You assumed I would think you were like most girls, and then you assumed this would be the last time we ever spoke? Why’s that?” He removed his hand from on top of mine, and I was suddenly missing the warmth and odd sense of security it bought to me.

  The palm of my hand broke into a sweat that flowed through the rest of my body. Why was I allowing him to make me this way, and why did he seem to be getting so much enjoyment out of it? The strand of hair I’d been struggling with all night long released from my bun once again and hung over my eye. I was frozen, unable to come up with a reply that was halfway intelligent, so I reiterated my former statement. “If there’s nothing I can get you here, I really need to be on my way.” I was done trying to figure him out.

  “Actually, you can get me something.”

  I waited for his request, but he remained mute. When he reached over the bar and tucked the pesky stray piece of hair behind my ear, my eyes widened, my stomach fluttered, and my heart accelerated all in unison. What was his deal?

  “You have beautiful eyes. You shouldn’t cover them up.” His voice was so smooth and sultry, yet at the same time strangely genuine.

  I took a step back and pulled in my bottom lip, not knowing how to respond. How could he go from being super cocky one minute to complimentary the next? Was this all part of his game to get a rise out of me? “What is it I can get for you?” I asked, finally finding the strength to render words.

  “Your number.”

  This was all too easy. Bridgette was right, for whatever strange reason he had fallen for my sparkling personality. But there was no way it could’ve been from our little encounter right now. I had hardly said anything to him except trying to explain myself and sounding like a blubbering fool in the process. Then it dawned on me. I was easy prey. Someone he could sleep with during his time here with no strings attached. I basically admitted it to him when I said I wasn’t like most girls. Yes, that scenario could definitely help Bridgette’s cause, but did I really want to be this guy’s “beck and call” girl? No, I wouldn’t sink that low, even for my family. His good looks wouldn’t entice me this time. For once, I was following the advice my sister had been spewing at me forever. The only problem was this was the one and only time she wanted me to stray from her sisterly guidance. Nope, if I was goi
ng ahead with this plan, I wanted to do it by forming some type of association other than just sex. Not that the sex part with him would be a chore or anything, but I refused to have him think of me as just some desperate girl who succumbed to his good looks and what little bit of charm he had. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why’s that?” He was persistent, that was for sure, and judging by the muddled look plastered across his face, not used to rejection.

  “Emme, when you get a chance, I need you over here.” My father’s voice was the escape I’d been mentally plotting for the past five minutes.

  “I…umm…I really have to go. Thanks again for bringing this back.” I shoved my license in my back pocket, drinking in those mysterious hazel eyes before finally finding the strength to stick to my plan and walk away.

  “Yeah, Dad?” I had almost pulled it together once I reached him.

  “Are you okay, my sweet Emmeline?” That name again. Ugh! “You look flush.” He placed his hand over my forehead. “You feel warm.”

  “Dad, it’s like a thousand degrees in here, and I’m running around like a crazy lady. Forgive me if I’m a little hot.” I didn’t want to tell him the cause of my rise in temperature was sitting at the other end of the bar. “Now, what is it that you need?”

  “Oh, can you please go downstairs to the fridge and grab me some more limes? Then I want you upstairs to take a breather and get some food. You haven’t eaten all day.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  “Emmeline!” His brogue thickened the way it always would when he was trying to be stern.

  “Okay!” I held my hands up in defense.

  After delivering my father his limes, I headed upstairs and heated up some leftover pasta. My mind was still reeling from the odd encounter just a short time ago. I pulled my license from my back pocket, wondering why I even paid the fees associated with it every eight years. It’s not like I ever drove anywhere with living in the city. It was just a means of identification. Identification that led the handsome stranger whose hotel room I had snuck out of right to me. Stupid girl.

  I loaded the dishwasher and then headed into the bathroom to throw some cold water onto my face. I stared at my reflection, wondering if I had done the right thing by not giving him my number. I had mastered the first obstacle of helping my sister keep her job, coupled with aiding my father with his financial problems with the big bonus she’d be receiving, and I let him walk away. I sighed heavily at the girl staring back at me in the mirror. Of all times not to succumb to a good-looking guy you have to do it to the detriment of your family. Good going, stupid!

  I wasn’t going to do this to myself. My father was right. I worried needlessly about things before they even happened, conjuring up the worst-case scenarios in my mind. Bridgette was brilliant at her job. She would do fine without the help of her little sister seducing the man who held her fate in his hands. My father had assured me he had everything under control with the bar and I had to believe that. I walked out of the bathroom with a newfound confidence. I was erasing all my doubts and going back downstairs to help my father. No more worrying for this girl. I seemed to remember that being part of my New Year’s resolution…five months ago. Better late than never.

  I grabbed my father’s extra set of keys to the bar area from the end table, noticing the slip of paper underneath from his accountant. When I picked it up and examined it further, my belated New Year’s resolution went out the window.

  Chapter 6

  Lukas

  I WASN’T SURE what had happened to Emmeline. She seemed to have disappeared after our little encounter. I had made her nervous. That was apparent. I couldn’t help but challenge her. She was cute when she squirmed. I sensed right away that she was clueless as to just how beautiful she really was. Not like the girls I was used to dating, perfection in every way, and the supercilious attitude that came along with it. But Emmeline was like a rare diamond, not knowing her beauty or her worth.

  As bits and pieces of the intoxicated fog from last night lifted, and scant memories came to mind, I remembered she wasn’t bad in bed either. Part of my job in my business was reading people within the first five minutes of meeting them. Something I did very well, and something I carried into my personal life. What I still couldn’t grasp was why her identification had a business as her address. It all seemed so odd, but maybe that’s the way they did it here in the States. She had disappeared tonight the same way she had this morning. Clearly, she was right when she said she wasn’t like most girls. Something I wasn’t used to. I had planned on heading back to my hotel once I’d lost sight of her, but when one of the amiable workers struck up a conversation with me like we were kindred spirits, I kicked back one beer after another and listened with interest.

  “I always wanted to go to Germany, but once I met my wife, the only place I wanted to be was here with her.”

  I didn’t believe in true love anymore, but after listening to the way this man spoke about his late wife, it was clear that maybe it did exist for some. All I had known from the day I was born was betrayal, greed, and power. My parents divorced when I was five years old due to my father’s infidelities, but not before my mother got her cut of his wealthy fortune. It was a pattern that seemed to repeat itself into my adult life.

  “What part of Ireland are you from?”

  “Ennis.”

  “Brogans Pub.” I lifted my beer bottle to my lips and took a chug, trying to chase away the bittersweet memories that place held when I had visited there. Memories of a time when my brother was still my best friend.

  “Ahh…so you’ve been!” His face lit up with excitement.

  “I have.”

  “I need to get back. I haven’t seen my sisters in years. Someday before I die.” He sighed as he ran the cloth in his hand along the bar.

  “What’s holding you back?”

  “This place.” He turned his head and looked around.

  “Ah, so you own this place?”

  “I do. It’s the last thing I have of my sweet Maggie, besides my beautiful daughters. Oh, there’s one of them now.”

  Emmeline. That’s why this place was listed as her address on her ID.

  “Emme, come and meet my new friend.”

  She stood in place with her beautiful eyes never leaving mine.

  “I’m so sorry, I must’ve lost my manners. I didn’t even get your name.”

  “Lukas.” I raised my beer to my lips, making no attempt to hide my wandering eyes, scanning her body.

  “Lukas, I’m Declan Flynn and this is my daughter, Emmeline.”

  “Emme.” She crossed her arms and corrected her father in the same crass manner she had to me earlier.

  He waved his hand in dismissal. “Emme, Emmeline…whatever, you’ll always be Emmeline to me.”

  “To you, but not to random strangers.” Her posture stiffened while shooting me daggers with her eyes.

  “I hardly think I’m a random stranger.” I bit back a smile, watching her porcelain complexion favoring a bright shade of red. “I actually met your daughter—”

  “Earlier in the night.” She cut me off. “He couldn’t decide on which beer he wanted.” She focused her attention on the bottle of Warsteiner in my grip. “Thought you preferred Belgian beer?” Her tone, one part snarky, the other part accusatory.

  “What can I say? Your father is more convincing than you.”

  Her father reached over the bar and patted me on the shoulder before letting out a boisterous chuckle.

  “Emme, since it’s slowed down, I’m going to start cleaning up in the back. Call me if you need me. Lukas, come back anytime while you’re here. Don’t be a stranger!”

  I nodded, trying my hardest to stifle my laughter over his daughter’s disapproval of my newfound alliance with her father.

  “Why are you still here?” She charged at me once her father was out of earshot.

  “Is this the way you treat all your customers
? If so, it’s not very good for business.”

  Letting out a labored breath, she threw her head back in defeat. “Fine. Can I get you another beer?”

  “Nope. I told you what you can give me.” I took another chug of my beer, almost draining the bottle before fixing my attention back on her.

  “Why?” she asked, narrowing her blue eyes.

  “Because I would like to prove to you that I’m not some self-absorbed asshole who picks up drunk girls just to sleep with them.”

  “What makes you think that’s how I feel?”

  “I’m very good at reading people. It’s my talent.”

  “Is that so?” She placed her hands on her hips and shook her head in disbelief. “Read me then.”

  She rubbed her neck as I sat back and studied her keenly. “You’re very unsure of yourself. You’re a very giving person much to your own detriment.” Her eyes glazed over with emotion. “And you don’t realize the value of your worth in many ways.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not true—”

  “I think it is, and you’re just afraid to admit it.”

  “No…I’m very sure of myself, and yes, I’m a very generous person, but not to my own disadvantage. I love my family, and I’d do anything for them. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Even if it means putting your own happiness on the line?”

  “I’m happy!” she retorted, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than me of that fact, as she began collecting the empty glasses. Stretching her arm just enough to lift her T-shirt up a hair, giving me a glimpse of her bare skin underneath, I was unable to look away. A slight blush flashed across her face when she caught on, quickly giving her shirt an extra tug, covering the view I had just been admiring. Pushing through her brief bout of humiliation, she continued with her rant. “Just because I can think like a guy and not expect anything from a one-night stand doesn’t mean I’m some hopeless, desperate person, lacking self-esteem.”

  “I never said you were.”

  “Yes, you did! You said…” She paused, throwing her head back in a huff. “You know what? I don’t even care what you said because you’re wrong in your assessment, Mr. Know-it-all.”