Chapter 13
Still Harper
Almost an hour later, we were sitting at a tiny table in the back of a room. A large bar stretched against the opposite wall with a small area in the corner carved out as a stage with a wooden rail around it. The stage was currently empty, but our table had two pints on it. Bulmers Cider for me and Guinness for Xander.
He took a long sip, and I was transfixed by the foam mustache it left behind on his actual mustache. His smiling eyes met mine, and I had to look away in embarrassment at getting caught ogling him— again .
Instead, I took in the rest of the room. The vaulted two-story ceiling with stained glass arched windows—the kind I’d expect to see in a church. The dark wood all over. The three-foot-wide stone walls. The scuffed and scarred wooden floors. The people literally everywhere. I could tell there were rooms off this one, and judging by the noise, they were full too. Everyone was slightly dressed up—more so than I’d find in a regular bar around the corner from my house.
“Fish and chips, and our largest fill-ut.” Our waitress set the plates in front of us then stood there eye-fucking Xander. “You’re looking well, Xander. Any chance the lads will get you onstage tonight?”
Xander picked up his fork and knife and grunted. “Doubtful. Just here for a good time with my girl.”
Her head swung to take me in as she flinched. Despite taking and delivering my order, I was somehow a surprise to her. “Right. Right you are. Erm, okay. Well, if you need anything, just give me a shout.”
And before I could ask for malt vinegar, she disappeared. “Neat trick,” I muttered as I looked over my fried fish, steak fries, and cup of mushy peas, which kinda looked like green refried beans. “I need to learn it for when the boys get rowdy during setup.”
“That happen often?” Xander asked, suddenly intent as he stared at me, his steak forgotten.
I hitched a shoulder. “They know better than to screw with me. Now . When I was first on the road…” I shook my head. “I eventually learned how to handle myself.”
Xander continued to stare at me, a muscle in his cheek flexing. He didn’t say anything for a long minute.
Finally I nodded at his steak. “You should eat up before it gets cold.”
“Did you tell anyone about it? Whatever happened?”
I nodded tightly. I don’t know why I brought it up. It’d taken a few years, some therapy, and hell of a lot of thick skin to move past it. “Wes. He was there within seconds. Fired the asshole and made it known far and wide that that shit doesn’t fly on his tours. That everyone deserves to be treated with respect, and if someone didn’t like it, they would have a one-way bus ticket next to the asshole.”
Wes had always felt like a protector. It was why I agreed to this charade in the first place. But while my heart was breaking for him and what he was losing, I was also pissed. He’d let so many things fall through the cracks and left me to pick up the pieces. Things I didn’t even know he’d dropped. The complex tangle of emotions was so similar to what I felt for my father. Anger. Love. Disappointment.
Family.
“Good.” Xander grunted like a neanderthal. “He should’ve.”
Suddenly, the whole place vibrated with the sound of Irish music—a lilting, happy tune that soon had people captivated. Chatter drifted off and the only sound was the instruments singing on the stage. I swung around to see for myself. In the tiny fenced off area, a flutist, fiddler, guitarist, lute player, and accordionist were sitting shoulder to shoulder in the small space.
And just like that, all my bad memories were chased away by the music. It was impossible to hear the tune and not smile.
I grinned at Xander and dug into my meal.
We sat without talking, content to listen to the cadence of the music.
After a bit, I pushed my plate away, totally and completely full. Xander was still attacking his steak with militaristic precision. His steak fries had long gone cold and completely untouched. My heart ached at the sight. They were my favorite kinda fries—all pillowy soft and delicious. But his salad was long gone. He hadn’t even gotten salad dressing. The monster.
But then, those choices were probably why he looked the way he looked.
And my fried dinner was why I had a little buddha belly currently bulging the front of my dress.
I thought of Kelly Evers. That was apparently Xander’s type. All tall and willowy and stick thin. Perfect. The complete opposite of me. It was probably a good thing for me to remember.
This wasn’t a real date. If anything, it was a pity date. Or an apathetic date. I couldn’t decide which was worse—pity or apathy.
When this charade was over, I had to get laid.
Attempting to shake off my sudden funk, I turned in my seat and faced the band. The fiddler was pretty cute—dark curly hair corkscrewing around his head and so intent on his instrument. Made me wonder if he’d be like that in bed.
And then I remembered I’d had the same thought about Xander.
The song ended and I joined the applause.
“Thank ye.” The grizzled lute player leaned into the mic. “We always enjoy our time at Kyetler’s Inn. But uh, I see we have one of our special regulars in the crowd. And I was wondering if we could convince him to come on up here and play with us. What do you say, lads? You wanna see if we can get Xander Lang to come on stage and sing something for us?”
I swiveled around in time to see the scowl on Xander’s face just before he shook it away. After a heavy sigh, he pushed away from the table and headed to the stage.
“We got him!” the lutist crowed into the microphone.
Xander gave a deep laugh, and the mic picked up his words when he shuffled onstage. “You know this is supposed to be my day off?”
“’Tis a hard life you lead, m’boy.” The lutist slapped Xander’s shoulder as the other guys made room for him in the booth-like seating. “I saw the lass you’re with tonight. I don’t think you’ll get any pity from us tonight.”
My face heated with my blush. I didn’t have to look to know that everyone in the room had swiveled to peek in my direction. It was a relief when Xander laughed and accepted the guitar being offered.
“You remember that I don’t know any of your fancy songs, right?” Xander asked the lutist.
The lutist shook his head sadly. “And here I thought we’d converted you last time.”
“Sorry, I’ve been busy.”
“I see that.” The lutist craned his neck to check out our table again.
I ducked my head and tried to hide.
Xander elbowed the lutist. “Leave my angel alone. She’s bashful. So what do you want to play? Not one of mine. No one here wants to hear that.”
“Hey!”
“Yeah, we do!”
The crowd jeered their disappointment.
“Sorry.” Xander leaned toward the microphone. “Still not happening.”
“How about we commemorate your new love and sing an oldie but a goodie?”
“I think that sounds like a trap.” Xander laughed.
“It’ll be the finest. Just join in when you figure it out.”
The lutist leaned forward and conferred with the other players in another language I’d never heard before, and then they started playing.
It took me a lot longer than it did Xander to figure it out. I think after three bars, his guitar joined in as a large smile swept over his face. But when the lutist leaned into the mic and sang the first line, it hit me. For the next three minutes, the pub rocked to a very interesting rendition of ‘ It Feels Like the First Time .’
Without a drum or a synthesizer, parts of it were missing. But adding in a fiddle and a flute more than made up for it.
I was grinning and clapping along with the rest of the crowd. And at the last chorus, I couldn’t help but sing along.
When the song ended, Xander handed the guitar back, and the lutist announced they were taking a break. Xander posed for some pictures with the group then slowly made his way back to our table. He was stopped again and again for selfies, signatures, and handshakes.
After reaching our table, he slapped some euros on the table and grabbed his jacket. “I think if we don’t want to incite a riot, we should probably head on out.”
My eyes wide, I took one last drink of my cider and stood up.
Xander grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight, and led the way past the bar to a door we hadn’t used on our way in. I tripped slightly over the change in flooring, and he spun around to catch me. “Whoa. You okay there?”
“Yeah, uh, you might need to slow down. My legs aren’t nearly as long as yours.”
Xander tossed me a look I couldn’t interpret then shook his head and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “I can’t take you anywhere, angel.”
“I only had the one drink.”
“Not what I meant,” he replied enigmatically.
Before I could come up with a retort, he pulled us through the door and outside onto a patio. Weaving through tables, we avoided eye contact with the patrons, and in seconds, we were in the middle of a parking lot.
Nothing around us looked familiar, but I trusted Xander. He kept his arm around me and we bumped compatibly down a walkway alongside the river. Every so often a bridge spanned the water, decorated with pretty flowerpots. It was picturesque. A few blocks away, Kilkenny castle loomed ahead of us.
Immediately, all the tension melted out of me. I just wanted to stand here and breathe in the peaty water and relative silence of the night.
Xander must’ve had a similar thought because despite neither of us voicing it, we stood there soaking in the moment.
After a few moments, Xander turned to me. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah, the music was fantastic. I take it you come to this place often?”
“Every time we play Ireland. It’s one of my favorites. Although Rory’s getting a little over the top. I’d rather come and listen. But he makes it impossible to say no.”
“It sounds like he’s as big a fan of you as you are of him.”
“Huh, I’d never thought of it that way.”
I hitched a shoulder. “That’s what I saw.”
Xander didn’t say anything. After a moment, he turned toward the castle in the distance and led me down the sidewalk alongside the river.
About a block later, he stopped next to the three-foot-tall wall separating us from the river. “Are you in a rush to get back, or do you have a minute?”
I shrugged. “I’ve got time. Someone promised me a lock-in, after all.”
“Shit.” Xander winced. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen tonight since we already left.”
“Wait, so they lock you in the bar?”
“If they trust you. They have to officially stop selling liquor at a certain time. That doesn’t mean the party always stops, though.”
I shook my head. “Fine. Where are we going if we’re not going back to the hotel?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.” I answered reflexively, without even a thought.
Xander grinned. “Good.”
Then without a word, he grabbed me by my waist and tossed me over the three-foot stone wall separating us from the river.
“Zee!” I shrieked just before my feet touched the ground. And not empty air followed by water like I’d thought.
Xander vaulted easily over the wall and pulled me to him. “What happened to trusting me?”
“I didn’t think you were gonna throw me!” I all but shrieked as I shoved his shoulders.
“Oh, ye of little faith. I knew where we were. Come on.” He grabbed my hand again and led me to a bench near the water. He sat and pulled me down next to him. “This is my second-favorite place in Kilkenny.”
And we sat side by side, listening to the water pass us by. That peaty, marshy scent on the air and the rushing water made it feel so much cooler than it had been on the path.
“Cold?” Xan asked.
I didn’t really want to admit it out loud. The moment was too nice to ruin with practicality. The next thing I knew, Xander’s leather jacket enveloped me, still warm from his body heat. “Aww, you didn’t have to do that.”
“It doesn’t count as chivalrous if you make me take it back.”
“Fine.” I fake huffed. “To protect your fragile male ego, I accept.”
Xander laughed. “Thank you?”
I tucked the jacket closer to my body. “You’re welcome.”
The sound of Xander’s laughter drowned out the nearby burbling river and had me smiling in response. Usually he was so stoic, so this was a pleasant surprise.
I sighed as I leaned into him. “This has turned out to be a pretty perfect night.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re toasty warm in my jacket.”
“Oh.” I moved to shrug it off. “You can have it ba—”
“I got a better idea.” Xander plucked me off the bench and set me down in his lap.
His very firm and definitely hard lap.
I barely restrained the urge to wiggle.
He wrapped his arms around me. “Yup. This is much better.”
Xander’s oversized jacket made it really easy to hide my giddy smile in his lapels. It was so fricking hot to think that he maybe was having the same thoughts about me that I was having about him.
I took a quick peek up at him, but he had his head back as he stared at the stars overhead. His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed hard. But then he tilted his head, and I was staring into his eyes. So dark. So mysterious. What was he thinking? Was he thinking about me? Or Kelly? I know he wasn’t happy she was on the tour, but was it hard for him to see her? Did it make him wonder about could-have-beens?
Was he hard right now because he was thinking about her?
“Harper,” he whispered huskily. “You really shouldn’t be looking at me like that.”
“I, uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not the man you think I am.” He brushed a thumb over my cheek. “I am so not fucking worthy of that look.”
I tilted my head. “I think I have a pretty good idea of exactly the kind of man you are. I’ve spent the past five years on the road with you, remember? You’d be surprised what I know. Still doesn’t change how I’m gonna look at you.”
Xander blinked once. Twice. “Fuck it.”
Then he kissed me.