“Thank ye, lass,” he muttered.

“Makes sense to me,” Aiden said, eyeing Michael. “You’re not over-serving him, are you? I don’t know if my back can handle another incident.”

“It’s his sixth one,” Antonia said, making a note in Danny’s notebook.

“You look adorable back there,” Aiden said with a grin. “Although there’s very little you can do to not look adorable.”

“Danny doesn’t want me giving out free drinks,” she said, whipping the towel over her shoulder. “So you can keep your compliments to yourself.”

Aiden nodded in appreciation. “You got me.” He perched a knee on the barstool and leaned over the bar. “Can I have a kiss instead?”

Her face warmed at the suggestion, but she was already on her tiptoes meeting him halfway. “That’s on the house.”

Aiden took her by the chin and drew her closer. “God, how I’ve missed these lips,” he said, brushing them with his own. She licked the corner of his mouth until her tongue met his. His fingers slowly grazed her throat as he tasted her mouth. Before their kiss could border on improper, she pulled away and let him return to his barstool. His lazy smile warmed her insides faster than any high-proof spirit.

She let out a breath. “What can I get you?”

“I could taste whiskey on you, my dear.” He picked up her glass of whiskey. “Is this yours?”

“It was.”

Aiden tilted his head and took it all in one gulp. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and felt a fire in her belly. Even in his tired state, Aiden’s sexiness shined through. He’d retired his Aran sweater and wore a simple gray T-shirt that revealed the bulge of his biceps as he leaned against the bar. “I’ll have another, if you don’t mind.”

She rolled her eyes as though it was an annoyance, but secretly wanted to show off her skills. She rinsed out a nearby jigger and poured the correct portion into a rocks glass. “Soda?”

“I’m not a child,” he chided. “I’ll take it neat, thank you.”

Antonia smiled. “Fair play.”

“Ah, look at you,” he said, sitting down. “You’re picking up the slang.”

“I suppose I am,” she said, setting his glass before him.

“You’ve already developed the lilt and cadence of the accent, you know? You learned the melody without overplaying it. Imagine what you’d sound like if you stayed here.”

Antonia froze. She had imagined staying in Ireland and it made her anxious. His plans, no matter how hopeful they were, worried her. Aiden spoke of the future so easily when his past, and her present, were barriers for both of them. “I’m sure it’s something all tourists pick up,” she said, busying herself with the glasses. She picked up a clean one and began wiping it down for no reason. “How was your day? I didn’t see your car this morning.”

His mouth twisted as his eyes dropped to his drink. “I drove back to Clifden.”