Wild Dreams: A Friends to Lovers romance (Wilder Irish Book 12)

bar. “I did it again.”
Padraig grinned as he stepped out from behind the counter and headed toward the storage closet in the back. “Yeah. I figured that out. Be right back.”
“What’s going on?” Gavin asked.
“One of the outlets in the kitchen stopped working. I keep overloading the ones that do work and flipping the breaker. Poor Paddy’s had to run to the storage closet four times today to flip it back,” Riley explained. “Ewan’s got a call in to an electrician, but he can’t get here until early next week.”
Gavin tilted his head. “And it never occurred to you to ask me to take a look?”
Riley waved him away. “You just got home from work. It’s fine.”
“Riley—” Gavin started.
“All fixed,” Padraig said, rejoining them.
“Thanks, Paddy.” Then Riley put her hands on her hips when she saw his pint glass. “You have dinner yet?”
He shook his head. He’d intended to head straight up to the apartment, but he’d been waylaid by the news about his mother and then annoyed enough that beer sounded better than food. “I’ll microwave some soup when I get upstairs.”
“Canned soup?”
He nodded.
“No, you won’t. Stay there. Canned soup…” she muttered with disgust. “I’ll bring you real soup.”
“What about the outlet?” he asked.
“It’ll keep until this weekend. You can fix it then,” Riley called out over her shoulder.
Gavin grinned when Padraig reclaimed his position across the bar from him. “Apparently I’m having dinner down here tonight.”
Padraig laughed. “You’ve been around enough years to know that food is love in Riley’s world.” He glanced up when the bell over the door jingled and a couple walked in. “Finally, some customers.” Padraig grabbed a couple menus as he led the patrons to a table and took their drink order.
Riley returned with the food. “Eat,” was all she said as she put the steaming bowl of cream of crab soup in front of him, along with a basket of fresh-baked rolls. His mouth watered just looking at it.
“Damn,” he murmured appreciatively, which appeared to be all the thanks Riley needed. She patted him on the back and laughed before walking back to the kitchen.
Gavin made a mental note to get up early Saturday morning to fix her outlet for her. Doing construction, he’d had plenty of opportunities to work with the electricians they hired. He’d even considered doing a full-time apprenticeship to become a journeyman after high school, but Oliver was determined the two of them were going to take over the construction company together once Justin, Killian, and Sean retired. They needed to “keep it in the family,” Oliver liked to say.
Gavin dug into the soup with gusto, savoring every single bite. Emmy continued to type away, her fingers racing over the keyboard the only sound besides the quiet chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the pub. As he ate, he realized he was no longer stressed out, and he knew exactly why.
No matter how long he remained with the Collins family, welcomed as one of their own, there was a part of him that simply never stopped being awed by their kindness. He’d spent too many of his formative years with a mother who fluctuated between abuser and taker.
His mother, who was fragile on good days, had been truly terrifying when in the midst of one of her black rages. It had taken years of being away from her before he realized that she’d never—not once—given him anything truly resembling what others considered motherly love. No hugs, smiles, or even a damn bowl of soup.
While his mom told him she loved him, it was always wrapped up in subtle controlling phrases like, “you’re all I have” or “there’s no one else to take care of me.” And Gavin had soaked up those phrases, believing they were genuine professions of love, when in truth, they were simple manipulations to ensure Gavin cooked and cleaned—and even stole money when they were broke.
Too many times, he’d been moved out of the house when a teacher caught sight of his bruises. Some of the foster homes where he’d been placed prior to moving in with Sean, Lauren, and Chad hadn’t been much better than the apartment he’d shared with his mom.
There were some people—like Oliver’s parents—who were in the foster system for all the right reasons. Because they cared about kids, wanted to make a difference in someone’s life, wanted to show children who’d been kicked to the curb that they were worthy of love. But there were just as many of the other kind. The ones who took in foster kids for the monthly check provided by CPS, and he’d lived with plenty of those during his childhood.
Gavin put some butter on one of the hot rolls and sighed happily. He might not be used to the concept of mothering, but he sure as shit still loved the way Lauren and the Collins aunts continually offered him that kind of unconditional love.
He’d just finished dinner when he heard someone call his name.
“Hey, Gavin.”
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Layla waving to him to join her. Picking up his mug, he crossed the bar.
“Hey, Layla. What’s up?”
“Just waiting on my fellas to get here. We decided to hell with dinner. We’re ordering appetizers and drinks and calling it a night.”
He laughed. “Rough day?”
Layla shrugged. “Not really. More like none of us felt like cooking and cleaning up. Did you already eat?”
“Had a bowl of Riley’s cream of crab soup, but I wouldn’t say no to some cheese fries if that’s on your list of apps.”
“Cheese fries are—and always will be—number one on the appetizer list. Sit down and join us.” Layla looked up and smiled when Padraig placed a glass of wine in front of her. “The guys will be here in a minute. Miguel said he’s in a PBR mood, which means Finn will want the same.”
Padraig nodded, then pointed to Gavin’s nearly empty glass. “Going in for a second round?”
“Hell yeah.” Gavin thanked Padraig before he returned to the bar. “How