on the dress. Though she’d never gone out in public without a bra, there was no reason not to feel comfortable in the dress.
Facing the mirror, she examined her breasts and came away pleased with the overall impression. There were a few benefits to being slightly flat-chested.
Nan reached beneath the skirt and skimmed off her panties, then smiled. She could wear the dress with nothing underneath, she mused. Riley would probably enjoy that even more. She ran her fingers through her hair. Maybe a pretty thong would be better.
Nan winced. She’d never worn a thong in her life. They’d always looked so uncomfortable. And a bit too racy for her tastes. A knock sounded on the door. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” the salesclerk asked.
Nan poked her head out the door. “I need lingerie. Panties. Maybe a thong? Something lacy. White, I think.”
A few minutes later, another knock sounded on the door and she opened it, only to find Riley standing outside. “Let me in,” he whispered, a devilish grin on his face.
“No! You can’t come in here.”
“There’s no one around. Come on, let me in.”
“How did you find me?”
“I saw you from across the street. What’s taking you so long?”
“Go away,” she said. The salesclerk would be returning in a few minutes with her lingerie and any attempt at surprising him would be gone. Nan closed the door, but he knocked again. Frustrated, she let him in.
“Sit,” she murmured. “And pull your feet up.”
Riley did as he was told, wrapping his arms around his legs. “Pretty dress,” he commented. “Are you wearing underwear?” He reached for the hem and peered beneath her skirt, but she slapped his hand away.
“Are you stark naked underneath that dress?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Jaysus, I shouldn’t have come in here.”
A third knock sounded at the door and Nan shushed him. She opened the door a crack and took the handful of hangers from the clerk. “Thanks,” she murmured. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Oh, take all the time you need,” the clerk said, as if she knew what was going on inside the room.
When she shut the door, Nan could feel her cheeks flushed from embarrassment.
“Oh, now, what’s this?” Riley asked, pointing to the thongs.
“Stop,” Nan said. “I just needed something to wear for tomorrow night. I didn’t bring along anything pretty. I don’t really own anything pretty.” She smoothed her hands over the skirt. “Not like this.”
“You’d look sexy in a potato sack.”
“Since there are no potato sacks in this store, I’m going to have to settle for this dress,” she said.
“I like it, but I don’t approve of going without drawers.”
“That’s why I wanted to try the thongs.”
“Well, look at these things,” he said, taking the hangers from her hand. “You might as well go without.”
“I thought you’d find it sexy,” she said.
“Yeah, me and a hundred other blokes at the pub. I don’t want my girl running around without her knickers. It sends the wrong message.”
Nan took a slow breath as she toyed with the lace at the neck, her gaze fixed on her reflection. “Do you like the dress?”
“I’d like it better if you wore a T-shirt underneath it.”
“I can’t believe you’re so prudish,” she said.
He stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist, then brushed a kiss across her lips. “Yes,” he murmured. “I love the dress. I think you look incredible. With or without clothes.” He pressed her back against the mirror, his hands wandering over the curves of her body, the fabric of the dress creating a delicious friction.
“Don’t you think the clerk will be able to see that we’re both in here?” She pointed to the space beneath the door. “She can see our feet.”
“I’m sure this isn’t the first time this changing room has been occupied by two.” He kissed her neck. “I really like this dress.”
“I do, too.”
“Did you buy the scarf in the other store?”
Nan shook her head. “I didn’t love it. I want to find something perfect.”
Riley reached into his pocket and took out a small box. “Here. I found something that might do the trick.”
Nan smiled. “What is this?”
“Open it,” he insisted. “It’s nothing grand, but it’s very Irish.”
She opened the box and pulled away the tissue paper to find a gold ring nestled inside. Nan took it out and looked at it, the design vaguely familiar.
“It’s a claddagh,” Riley explained, bending close, his lips softly touching her cheek. “The heart is for love, the hands for friendship and the crown for loyalty.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, glancing up at him.
“Now, there’s a trick to wearing it,” he said. “And I’m not sure how it all goes. I suppose it doesn’t really matter. Some people wear it as a wedding or engagement ring, I suppose on their left hand. So wear it on your right.”
She slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand. “It fits perfectly.”
“Well, that was a lucky guess,” he said.
“Thank you,” Nan murmured, holding her hand out to stare at the ring. “I love it. It’s exactly what I was looking for.”
“Good,” he said. “I’m glad I was able to help.” He drew a deep breath and nodded. “Well, I’ll just be getting out of your way. I’ll meet you outside then?”
She nodded. Nan opened the door and Riley looked both ways before stepping out. After she closed the door behind him, she sat down on the low bench and stared at the ring. Her heart fluttered and she tried to take a deep breath, but it was impossible.
What did this mean? Was it custom in Ireland to give a ring to someone you barely knew? Nan was hesitant to attach any sentiment to it beyond friendship, but that didn’t stop her from wondering if he had other intentions in giving it to her.
Yes, it was Irish. And maybe that’s all it was, Nan thought. But deep inside her, in the furthest corners of her heart, she wanted it to mean more.
6
RILEY SAT ON A STOOL on the small stage in the pub, plucking out a melody on his guitar. He glanced at the lyrics for the song he’d written, then cursed softly, frustrated with the tune he’d been working on.
Why was it that songs always sounded so much better inside his head than they did once he sang them out loud? There were times when he felt he’d come up with an idea so perfect, there was nothing better. And yet, the moment he tried to work it all out-the lyrics, the melody, the harmony beneath-it wasn’t nearly as wonderful as he’d imagined.
This is exactly why artists self-destructed. There was nothing worse than facing your own inadequacies as a musician and he seemed to face them almost daily. But since Nan had arrived he’d felt even more conflicted about his career. For a long time he’d been perfectly satisfied with his life. And now, he saw his carefree, irresponsible existence for what it was-his inability to take life seriously.
Even if he wanted to fall in love with Nan, he couldn’t. What did he have to offer her? All his possessions could fit in the back of his car. He didn’t hold a proper job or own a home. He didn’t have a college degree or any prospects for a job that offered a regular paycheck. Hell, he wasn’t qualified to do anything but tend bar and sing songs.
His mind flashed back to the previous day, to their encounter in the dressing room at Burkes. Riley stifled a
