Eluding Nirvana (The Dark Evoke Series Book 2) (21 page)

“Who’s for cockta
ils?” I bellowed a little louder than necessary.

Laurie glanced between me and her cousin, her
eyebrows lifting considerably with a shrewd little wriggle. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t adorable. “How about a little karaoke instead?” she countered.

“Karaoke? You’re kidding, right?
” I scoffed. “I don’t do karaoke.”

“Oh, Kady, every
body does karaoke. The people that think they don’t just don’t realize it yet.”

I still wasn’t being won over. Singing was
a big no-no for me. Singing in the privacy of the shower was about as far as I would ever go. Mainly because the crashing sound of the spewing water masked how bad I really was.

Walker pulled
the cuff of his navy and caramel shirt up and checked his cuff-like watch. “Sorry to disappoint you, dear cousin, but Karaoke has been over for thirty minutes.”

She hung her head like a child, with the word,
damn, traveling on a moody sigh.

“But we could still go to McGinty’s for a quiet drink. Would you be alright with that, Kady?”

I nodded, all the while thinking, McGinty’s? Where the Hell was that and who the fuck was McGinty?

“Kady’s in, what about you, misery guts.”

Tried as I might, I couldn’t suppress an amused snort. The directness which both Laurie and Walker engaged in was fascinating. I loved how they bounced off each other.

“A quiet drink?
” she sneered. “Nah, you can drop me home on the way. Jesus, I never knew an Irishman could be so boring.”

After settling the bill we left the bistro and filed into Walker’
s beloved pick-up. Considering Laurie was going to be the first to exit, she was taking her place next to the door, while I sat in the middle of the bench. I was so close to Walker that I could feel his body heat, I could smell his cologne. Every time he shifted the side of his body would graze against my own, and it filled me with…I don’t know…it was something which I hadn’t felt in a long time, almost…thrilling, daring. It was something I knew damn well I had to steer from, not because I questioned my fidelity; I would never cheat, or do anything that would be remotely considered as cheating, but because I questioned how Liam would perceive it.

I couldn’t
and wouldn’t stick my head in that lion’s den again.

We dropped Laurie off at the building I once called my home. She gave me
a kiss on the cheek and told Walker that she would call him the following day, before slipping out of the truck. The door was slammed behind her, and we watched on for a brief moment, making sure that she got herself safely inside before pulling off.

“Have fun,
” she called, her voice echoing through the night.

A
small distinct gasp, which I tried to mask, was torn from my throat when Walker stretched himself across the bench. His right hand was a hairsbreadth away from my thigh when he called out of the opened window, “We will once you get your arse inside.”

She merited him with
a hasty salute then disappearing inside her apartment building.

I
found myself giggling in disbelief when Walker pulled into the gravel strewn car lot in front of McGinty’s. “What’s so funny?” he grunted, putting the truck into park.

“You know,
for three years I used to live in that exact same building as Laurie, yet I never knew that this place existed just around the corner.”

“Never knew this place…”
he trailed off on a scoff, his opinion enhanced by the unimpressed shake of his head. “This is the best place in town. And that’s not me being biased.”

“Biased?” I queried.
Granted it was left one-sided. Why I was even remotely peeved about that, I have no idea. I was used to my questions going unanswered by Liam, but by another? That was just plain rude.

He abandoned the truck with a rushed slam of the door. B
efore I even unclipped my belt and released the passenger side door, Walker was already at my side holding it open for me. I whispered my thanks while lowering myself from the seat, and shakily made my way over the gravel in my heels.

The display of Walker’s thoughtful manners had an intense warmth heating my insides. I
never would have thought that someone as…masculine as him would even bother with the chivalrous acts. Macho and chivalry were worlds apart in my mind. So when the green door of the bar was held open for me, and the gentle, warm tone of his voice offered a “Ladies first,” my response was a simple, timid smile that made the erratic, pumping muscle in my chest billow.

A voice calling out,
“Alright, son?” sounded through the vacant building. The source of the greeting was a man with silver hair hanging to his shoulders, going about his late night duties behind the green surfaced counter.

“’Aye,”
Walker answered with me trailing behind, making our way through the empty tavern and rounding a pool table as we went. It was impossible for his caressing fingertips over the green felt, to go unobserved. How he managed to achieve a degree of seduction in such an effortless act was perplexing, so much so, the act of drawing my attention from that hand was proving challenging. “I see it got delivered then?”

“’Aye, that it did, son. Arrived
this afternoon. Now I just need to think of a place to put the fucking thing.” The man’s gaze swept up and down the length of the room, as did mine.

A small stage extend
ed over at the end of the building to my left with a small dance floor below it. While dark, round tables and matching chairs were strategically placed for comfort, yet enough room to maneuver around them. Flashing lights of slot machines and an old fashioned jukebox at the right of the building caught my eye. There didn’t appear to be a vacant spot anywhere big enough for the table to be rehoused. Keeping it where it was got my vote.

“
Who’s the pretty lady?”

“D
a, this is Kady. Kady, meet my da.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I smiled, and
when he flipped a towel over his shoulder, I shook his hand.

“You, too, Kady.” It must have been an Irish thing, because the ‘D’ of my name was transformed into a ‘T’ by the old man as well. It made me smile and hang my head.

He asked what he could get us while Walker lit up a cigarette and dragged an ashtray closer to him, stunning me for a brief moment, as my mouth went dry and my stomach flipped. The lightheaded buzzing and grating of my lungs which I had experienced only a few weeks ago when I was the one on the receiving end of those chemicals, was recalled as I studied him in an uncomfortable silence. I watched the smoke twirl and spiral as it left his mouth in a controlled exhale, before he ordered a bottle of Bud for himself.

I halted the old man after Walker order me a large white wine. “Actually, I’ll have the same as Walker, please.”

I felt Walker’s cynical, yet comical gaze burning into me. I turned to face him and was met with slightly narrowed eyes. “Really?” he probed, drawing the smoking stick from between his lips before moistening them with a sweep of his tongue.

“When in Rome, right?”

The dimple on his left cheek and the lengthening of his throat, as he lifted his head back with a husky chuckle, was hypnotizing. With a sphere of butterflies in my stomach and the hugest, most sincere grin that my face has borne in a long time, I watched him flick the gathering ash of the tip of his cigarette into the tray before him, and then took a draw from his bottle.

“I didn’t know you were a smoker,” I mused, seizing the uncapped, dark glass bottle from Walker’s father with a smile of appreciation.

He cocked his wrist, examining the burning stick held loosely between the fingers of his right hand. “’Aye, but only socially––” I smiled through my unease, my eyes drifting over the bar when he drew my attention again. “Sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” he lifted his arm to his mouth for one final draw on the tip before outing it in the ashtray and blowing the gathering of chemicals out on a shallow breath.

The mere fact that he
drew an end to his act after sensing my unease made my heart billow under my ribs.

“Better?” he asked, smiling wide.

“You didn’t have to do that. But thank you.”

He tipped his head gallantly, wrenching the d
ark glass from his lips. When he gestured toward the pool table along my left, his eyes twinkled. “Fancy christening the table, Kady?”

“Excuse me?”
My eyes were made wider in utter shock horror while I heard the old man behind the bar snigger.

“I meant join me in the f
irst game of pool, on the table.”

Air gradually left my lungs and I dropped my head with a tiny shake
, awaiting his censure.

“My Go
d, your mind is filthy, darlin’…” he was practically purring. By means of his forearm, he pushed himself away from the bar. The step he took toward me had my heart lurching into my mouth, while my nostrils instantly demanded a fresh encounter with his cologne. As my eyes scoured over the white T-shirt that was stretching across his broad chest, much needed oxygen had already caught in my throat. Eventually, our eyes had locked.

A moment of silent conversation was communicated through t
he Indian Ocean reflected within each other, until his narrowed into a clear, refreshing spring, “…I like it.” The smell of beer, garlic and a hint of smoke, traveled on his whisper. The lopsided grin and roguish wink spawned exhilarating chills throughout my body, as he skirted me and graced the table.

“I, um…” oh God, this was
both embarrassing and awkward. My train of thought came to an immediate standstill when I witnessed his beige, denim pants stretching over his behind as he bent down then stretched out over the felt.

When I failed to continue, my mouth suddenly bone dry thanks to my jaw slackening, he re
ared up, the plaid shirt hanging open appealingly, as he asked, “What is it, darlin’?”

Deep breathe, Kady, find the fucking words. I offered an abashed smile. “I don’t know how to play.”

“You’ve never played pool?”

I shook my head and rolled my lips over my
teeth, shrugging my shoulders.

“Jesus. That’s just unacceptable.
Don’t worry, I’ll teach ya, darlin’.” Another snigger from his father had Walker pointing at him and tilting his head down in a mocked warning. “Don’t you start, Da,” he chided, and went about putting the balls in the triangle.

“Okay, so, where’s the stick.”

He tried, I know he tried but he was doing an absolute awful job of concealing his amusement. Lifting his eyes up at me, those hypnotic hands slithered over the green felt, until they were braced on the cushion, bearing his weight as he smirked. “Stick?”

“Yes, the stick to hit the balls.”

“This,”––he shifted and recovered the topic of discussion––“is called a cue, darlin’.”

My jaw practically rested on my left shoulder as I simultaneously cocked my head and
submitted to a noncommittal shrug. “It’s made from wood and whittled into a long pole. It is, in all intents and purposes, a stick.”

His thick, husky laughter was contagious. He
finally shook his head, “I give up. Here, take your stick, darlin’.” So I did with a triumphant grin. “Do you want to break?”

“Break what?”

The center of his upper lip was lightly grazed by his right thumbnail. I watched as wry eyes widened from over his hand, while he clutched his stick in his left. “Never mind, I’ll break.”

It was suggested that I back up a little to avoid being hit as he began
to fold his body over the table. Snared by absolute fascination, I studied him once I’d stepped around the corner of the table. The way his body fell so low against the surface and the look of sheer concentration in his eyes, while his tongue came to rest on his lower lip, was the most alluring sight I’d ever had the pleasure to witness.

Taking his shot, the white dispersed the triangle of c
olors sending them scattering over the table, still none of them fell.

“Okay, I didn’t pocket any, so you’re up
.”

“What one have I got t––?”

I shivered as he smirked. “Whichever tickles your fancy, darlin’?” That had my eyes glazed and my lower lip snared between my teeth. This man and his innuendos. And he said I have a filthy mind.

For
a long while I scrutinized the table. Finally, I opted for a striped ball aiming toward the middle right hole, or pocket, whatever it’s called. I peeked up at the man waiting on tenterhooks, his eyebrows lifted, and I found my attention being repeatedly drawn to his mouth as his right thumb once again, lightly scoured the center of his upper lip in thought. “Help me, I don’t know how to…”

“Come ‘ere,” he
mounted his stick against the wall then took position behind me. “Bend down,” he ordered softly.

C
agily, I did as I was told.

“Lower…lower…”

“My God, this is embarrassing,” I lightly protested, letting my head fall forward onto the felt. I felt exposed with my ass on full view for everybody. I knew the only people in the bar were Walker and his father and the lights were low, but still, I felt a wave of vulnerability crash over me.