Sophie heard a familiar, deep laugh and went up on her tiptoes, following it to a table a few feet to the right of the stage where Liam and Michael sat. Michael banged his beer bottle on the table, chanting, “Liam, Liam.” A chant that was taken up by the surrounding tables. Sophie was about to turn to Ava and Dana and point out where the two men were sitting when she felt herself being maneuvered through the crowd toward the stage.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she yelled to be heard over the crowd. “You set me up!”
“You were always trying to sneak in here to hear him sing. Now’s your chance. He wasn’t trying to sabotage the wedding, but you were being stubborn and wouldn’t hear him out. So . . .” Ava shrugged.
“You know what they say about payback, right?” But she wasn’t thinking about payback when Liam got up on the stage and accepted a guitar from a bearded man. She heard Dana and Ava talking behind her, and then they were tugging on the sleeves of Sophie’s coat.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“You’re looking a little warm,” Dana said.
Sophie sighed. Dana was right. She let them take off her coat. “Michael,” Ava yelled and tossed it in his direction. He grinned and raised his hands to catch it, but something caught his eye and the coat landed on the table. Sophie turned to see what he was looking at. A woman in black leather pants and jacket carrying a motorcycle helmet in her hand had just walked into the bar. Her long, black hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail. She was stunning and fierce looking, and Sophie knew who it was right away. Shay Angel. Maybe it was a good thing she’d been set up after all. She could make sure Michael and Shay didn’t spend any time together.
But then the band started to play and Sophie only had eyes for the man center stage. He was looking right at her with a smile on his face. A smile she’d always dreamed would one day be directed at her. Sexy, hot, and filled with promises. Just like his voice when he started singing “Galway Girl,” only he changed black hair to brown, blue eyes to brown, Galway girl to Gallagher girl.
Dana leaned into her when he came down off the stage. “It’s like that scene in P.S. I Love You.”
Sophie couldn’t respond even if she wanted to. Liam was in front of her, singing to her while the crowd sang along and clapped, stomping their feet in time to the music. Liam was a born performer. He played to the crowd, his voice deep and raspy. He circled her, moving closer each time. Then, just as the song ended, he cupped the back of her head and kissed her long and hard before saying to her in a thick Irish brogue, “Are you going to take me back to your room, my Gallagher girl?”