Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

LONELY EYES, MAGICAL HUGS AND WARM WELCOMES

TARA

Breathe, Tara. You can handle this, I reminded myself, forcing my nerves to settle.

"Signorina Lynch, sta bene?"

"Sandro, ci conosciamo da anni," I replied with a small smile. "Non credi che ormai dovresti chiamarmi per nome e non per cognome?"

"Mi dispiace, Tara," he chuckled, dipping his head in acknowledgment. "Sei molto bella con questo vestito."

"Augurami buona fortuna" I laughed, reaching for my bag before stepping out. I was met with an onslaught of camera flashes, a chaotic jumble of reporters shouting my name, and photographers practically scrambling over each other.

I held my smile steady, the lights dizzying as I adjusted to the clamor. It was wild to think that barely twelve hours ago, I'd been back in Ballylaggin, cuddled up with Jonathan. Now, here I was, stepping onto the red carpet of one of the most extravagant charity galas on the Amalfi Coast. Jonathan, my ever-adoring boyfriend—God love him—had insisted on driving me to the airport at the crack of dawn, waiting until I'd boarded. I'd promised him I'd be back for his birthday, especially since, in just two days, he'd be off to France with the U20s. Likely, I wouldn't see him again until the end of August after my competitions.

"Tara, here!" a young reporter's voice rang out, snapping me from my thoughts. "We're from the Irish Daily Mail!"

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, give me patience, I groaned inwardly. How on earth do they know I'm here?

I forced a polite smile, moving toward the girl with a nod. "Hi."

"We've been told you're the most eligible bachelorette at the whole gala."

I chuckled softly. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not single."

"So the rumors are true?" she asked, her excitement almost tangible. "You're dating Johnny Kavanagh?"

Oh, here we go. Another mad fan of my man, I thought, sighing internally. "Yeah," I nodded, trying to keep my tone light. "After he got my name tattooed on him, how could I say no to those adorable blue eyes?"

Her grin only widened, her expression far too pleased. Sweet mother of God, get a grip.

"And did he come with you tonight?" She glanced around the red carpet, clearly scanning for him.

"No," I said, unable to hold back the slight edge in my voice. "He's at home. With the kids." Her mouth dropped open, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Only joking. You should've seen the look on your face!"

I was not joking—not in my mind, at least. This woman needed to get my man out of her dirty, perverted mind, or she was about to get that bloody microphone shoved up her hole.

Breathe, Tara. Breathe.

"So what's Johnny like as a boyfriend?" she asked, leaning in, clearly relishing the conversation.

I fought back a grin. "He's a right eejit," I said with a straight face. "But he's my eejit. And I love him. My siblings adore him too. Edel and John raised a stubborn, hard-working, compassionate lad. A bit possessive, but I love him all the more for it. It's part of his charm."

I hoped the message was clear. If this woman didn't take the hint soon, we were going to have serious problems.

"Johnny's a pretty good-looking fella," she went on, her eyes sparkling. No shite, Sherlock. "And he's off with the U20s this summer, representing Ireland. How does that make you feel?"