Page 20 of Experiments in Offline Dating

I grimaced. “I don’t know, Tige. If you want me to share my fish pie on the first date, the banter’s going to have to do a whole lot better than this.” Ew! Gross. Why is that where my mind went? This is Simone’s fault for always joking about fish tacos! Whatever. Maintain eye contact.

His neck went red and his mouth tightened. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I would never! I was flattering you.”

“Right. Bring her the fish and chips. I’ll get the pie, and she can try some of mine if she can shut her mouth long enough to chew it.”

Ha! Success! Back on track!

The server gave a little nervous laugh. “Right. A fish pie and a fish and chips, then.”

“And another round of drinks,” Tadhg added. “Keep ’em comin’.”

That’s right! Because we’re neck deep in flirt city! Fast train to pound town!

The wooden paneling groaned against his shoulders as he leaned back and assessed me, probably trying to keep up with the tone shift. His gaze snagged for a second on the low scoop of my tank top. Message received, Tiger! I almost smiled but caught it just in time. I was just starting to make some headway and didn’t want to spoil the game by being friendly!

“And yourself?” I saw the muscles of his jaw work. “What do you do other than insult people you’ve only just met?”

“Ah, you’re smarter than you look—they’re one and the same. I host a dating podcast, actually. So I’m getting paid to do this.”

“Really? A dating podcast? You? Is it a ‘how not to’ sort of thing? How does that work?”

Zing! Oh, it is SO on!

“I go on terrible dates with people—dates like this one, come to think of it—and then we quantify what we can and analyze the data for the show.”

“Yeah? Any luck figuring out what the common denominator is yet?” Oh my God! This is totally working. The common denominator was me, obviously, but I wasn’t about to break character just when things were getting good!

“Yeah. I checked the science. Turns out the problem is the men I pick. Even when there are only three choices.”

This is fun! All my flirting should be like this from now on. I see you, Ireland! I’m a convert!

“Funny. I explicitly remember telling you not to pick me. I’m still baffled as to why you can’t take simple instruction.”

“Community service. If I didn’t take you out, you’d never get off the farm, would you?” Oh my God, I am fucking killing this! Time to double down. “Tell me. Is it true what they say about farmers and sheep?”

His eyes narrowed. They bored into me. “Tell me, Maya. What do they say about farmers and sheep, then?”

Ugh. God, that rough voice of his! The way he says my name in italics is like a salty little pretzel!

“Oh, I think you know. Probably all too well, if I had to guess.”

“Enlighten me.”

I shrugged. “Why go out and waste your money on a date when you have two hundred at home?”

If I hadn’t known we were flirting each other’s pants off, I might actually have been afraid of the look he gave me. He looked furious. And with those big arms of his, he could snap me like a twig. Yes, please! Was he thinking the same thing? My stomach fluttered with the thrill of it. We might end up in bed together tonight, if we can keep this up. I raised my eyebrows and took a slow, sensuous drag of my pint while I locked eyes with him over the rim.

He put his massive hands on the table and slowly stood up. This was an invitation! He felt it too. My heart pounded.

“Right. I’ve had about as much of this as I can take.” His voice was so low and husky I nearly swooned. It was rough and animalistic. He was turned on. So was I!

I put my bag strap on my shoulder and stood. “Come on. Why don’t we get out of here and pick up some vitamin E for your penis.”

He froze. “What? What the actual feck are you talking about?”

I accidentally let out an awkward laugh that shattered the vibe. “You know. Because I need some help getting rid of my tumbleweeds.”