by Jacob Chance
“Feck, Georgie, you’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
She smiles and preens at my approval. “Thank you. You clean up rather well yourself, kind sir.”
“There’s nothing kind about what I want to do to you right now.” My eyes gleam with wicked intent.
“Brennan, what did you come here for? We don’t need bad luck.”
“First of all, there’s no bad luck waiting for us. That’s all in our past. And second of all, I have something for you, but it can wait.” I stalk closer until I take hold of her outstretched hand, tugging her to her feet. Even with her delicate high heels on she’s still much shorter than me.
She pats my chest. “I think you should give me what you came here for and then let me finish getting ready. Otherwise, I might be late to our wedding.”
Reaching inside the inner pocket of my new charcoal suit, I pull out a tissue paper wrapped bundle. “Go on, luv. Take it.”
Her fingers peel the thin, white paper apart, revealing a white linen handkerchief. “Brennan, it’s beautiful,” she whispers, tracing the fine, slightly yellowed Irish lace edging the material with the pad of her fingertip.
It makes me happy that she seems to like it.
“This was my mum’s, and she carried it on her wedding day. It’s an Irish tradition for the bride to carry a decorative hanky. Some call it a magic handkerchief, and it would mean a lot to me if you’d have it on you when we exchange our vows.”
“Oh, Brennan, I’d be honored to.”
“You can wrap it around your bouquet or you could tuck it between your—“
“I got the idea,” she cuts me off, ruining the vision I was conjuring in my mind.
“You know you’re going to cry tears of joy, luv. Keep it handy.” I wink.
Placing the handkerchief down on the table, she skates her palms up my chest to my shoulders and stares into my warm gaze. “Thank you for trusting me with something that means so much to you. I know you don’t have many things from your parents, and I’m honored to carry on this tradition.”
“Nothing means more to me than you and Neve.” I mention our one-year-old daughter.
She smiles. “I know. And we love you more than anything.”
“You better.” My tone is gruff with emotion. I love my two girls so much that it’s incomprehensible.
My hands settle on her ass, pulling her closer. “How about a kiss for good luck, luv?” My eyebrows jump and lower a few times.
She purses her lips. “Hmm, I suppose one little kiss wouldn’t be a problem.”
Catching hold of one of her hands, I press it to my fly. I’m hard as a rock beneath the elegant suit pants. “There’s nothing little about the problem I’m already dealing with.”
She giggles, shaking her head. “Brennan, for God’s sake, we’re in a church.”
“You think that can stop me from wanting you? I don’t care where we are, I’m always going to desire you, Georgie. Even if the good lord were standing here in front of me, I’d still be having dirty thoughts about you.”
Squeezing my hard cock, she teases me, and I growl. She draws her hand back. “Put that away until later and give me that kiss you mentioned. And then you need to leave so I can finish getting ready.”
I grip her hips, pulling her against me. My mouth presses against hers, and my tongue urges her lips to part. Fire-hot lust sizzles in my veins. So much for a quick kiss.
Fuck it.
Why deny myself something that’s damn near impossible to resist?
The tip of her tongue meets mine, twisting and dueling as hunger ignites like a spark between us. It feels new and exciting every time I touch her. My large hands caress down to squeeze her ass. I can feel her warmth through the fitted dress, and it makes me yearn to have my touch roaming over every inch of her enthralling skin.
When our mouths finally part, we’re both short of breath and short on restraint. She takes a step backward, keeping an arm’s distance between us.
“You need to go. I’m not marrying you looking like we just screwed.”
“What if no one can tell?” I arch a dark brow.
“Yeah, right. That’s not how it goes when we’re together.”
“What can I say, luv? I like to mess you up.”
“And I like that too, but not before the wedding.”
“How about during the reception?” I quip.
“You’re incorrigible.” She shakes her head. “My family flew all the way here from the States, and so did our closest friends.”
“What does that have to do with wanting to bury my cock inside you as soon as possible?” I don’t understand her logic.
“Brennan.” She sighs, releasing frustration. “Don’t be difficult, or this wedding might not take place.”
I bark out a deep laugh. “Oh, Georgie, Georgie, Georgie. As if that would ever happen. I’d search the ends of the world for you. Hell, I already came back from death to be with you. And you’d be lost without me.”
She meets my knowing gaze. There’s no use denying my words. She knows how much I love her, and how much I love our daughter. I’m the king of our castle, and she would be lost without me.
She’s never forgotten the devastation she felt during the time she thought I was dead. She still has nightmares about it sometimes. I never want her to experience that agonizing pain again.
I notice a fleeting frown pass over her face. “Hey, luv. Why are you looking so glum? You’re not having second thoughts are you?”
She steps forward once more, closing the distance between us. Her arms wrap around my neck and she smiles up at me. “I’m definitely not having any doubts. Being with you is the best decision I’ve ever made. I love our little family. And I can’t wait to officially be Mrs. Brennan Collins.”
“Aye,” I breathe. “You’ll do my name proud. My parents would love you.”
I’ve told her this before, but saying it today is a special reminder.
“I’m sure they’re here with us in spirit,” she mentions.
“I’m going to go check on Neve and make sure she’s fine with your mum and dad. I’ll see you at the other end of the aisle.” I grin and press a soft kiss on her lips. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, luv.”
“I won’t. I think we’ve waited long enough.”
I nod, studying her face, as if I’m memorizing every detail for the first time. “I’ll see you at the other end of the aisle, luv.”
She beams. “I can’t wait. I love you.”
“More,” I say, closing the door.
Chapter Twenty
Georgia
“You look gorgeous. Everything’s perfect.” Shannon looks me over from head to toe in the hallway that leads to the church.
I sweep a hand over my hair that’s been fashioned into some kind of braided, twisted, and pretty much glued into place, intricate hairstyle.
“Don’t touch it. Trust me, it’s not going to fall down.”
“After all the product you put in my hair, it may never come out.” I giggle.
Zoe hands off my bouquet after fastening Brennan’s mother’s handkerchief around the stems using a golden tie with a horseshoe charm for luck—another Irish tradition.
“Thank you.” I raise the floral arrangement to my nose, inhaling the fresh scent.
The flowers I chose are a mix of several types and contains various shades of white with three-leaf clovers sprinkled throughout for another touch of Irish charm—not to mention good luck. And after the rocky start Brennan and I had, I’ll try whatever might guarantee us some good juju.
“Are you ladies, ready?” Keegan asks as he comes toward us.
“Yeah, I’m good to go, as long as my groom is standing at the end of the aisle waiting for me.”
He chuckles. “Are you kidding? He’s been pacing at the front of the church for fifteen minutes now. I came out here to get you before he thinks you ran out on him. Of course, I made sure to mention that you probably did.”<
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I giggle as I picture Belfast wearing a hole in the carpet. For someone who’s lived most of his life recklessly and has taken chances no one should take, he’s an ol’ softie when it comes to me. And now that we have Neve, he’s even worse. To say he’s protective doesn’t even begin to describe how he acts.
“Let’s go do this,” I say, carefully walking on my high heels. I feel like a princess about to marry my prince in my white strapless, knee-length dress. I made Brennan wait longer than he wanted before I’d set a wedding date. I didn’t want to be pregnant when we wed. And then after Neve was born, things were so hectic with being new parents that we’re just finding the time now. But it really doesn’t matter to me because in my heart we’re already married.
My dad is waiting for me just outside the entrance to the church, talking to Mikey. He smiles when he sees me and holds his arms out. I slip into his warm embrace. “My baby girl is all grown up.”
“Oh, Dad, I’ve been grown up for a long time. I even used to carry a gun and badge for work,” I joke.
He releases me and holds out his arm. Wrapping my palm around his forearm, we stand side by side waiting for the bridesmaids and groomsmen to head down the aisle in front of us. Zoe and Keegan are paired up along with Mikey and Shannon.
My eyes take in the charm of the centuries-old stone church. Stained glass windows line both sides of the building, casting rainbow beams around the space like it’s sprinkled with magic. I half expect to see a leprechaun skipping between the hand carved pews lining both sides of the aisle.
The organist begins to play “The Wedding March” and we begin to move, my eyes locking with Brennan’s. His lips curve more with each step forward that we take, until he’s radiantly beaming at me. The warmth of his smile could rival the sun. I literally feel his love washing over me as if it’s a tangible thing.
My heart flutters excitedly behind my breastbone as my dad places my hand in Brennan’s and kisses me on the cheek before taking his seat next to my mom on the front pew.
Our eyes haven’t parted since I started down the aisle. The love I see reflected in his unwavering gaze makes my stomach whirl and quiver like a tornado of butterflies. I never imagined that any man could cherish me the way Brennan does. I expected my job to be my one great love, and I was okay with that.
But now that I know what it’s like to have such a powerful love, the gut-clenching, I’ll-die-without-you kind of love, I wouldn’t trade it for all the leprechauns’ gold at the end of the proverbial rainbow.
Our ceremony passes so quickly it’s all a blur except for the tall, handsome, reformed bad boy standing in front of me with tears in his chocolate eyes. I’ve only seen him cry on one other occasion, and it was when Neve was born. She’s had him wrapped around her little finger since her first breath.
I smile through my own happy tears as we recite our vows. Mikey produces the rings, handing them off to Brennan and me. We take turns sliding them along each other’s fingers, and we’re pronounced man and wife. Our tear-stained lips connect in a wet, salty kiss that fills my heart and weakens my knees. As we part, I become cognizant of the chorus of cheers from our family and friends.
We turn to face our guests before walking over to the front pew. Brennan leans down to take our daughter from my mom, and Neve holds her arms up chanting “da da, da da.”
“That’s my baby girl,” he coos, making a silly face at her. She giggles, and I smile at how adorable they both are—my two favorite people in the world.
My husband takes my hand, and the three of us walk down the aisle together toward our bright, love-filled future.
Enjoy Georgia and Belfast’s story?
Want to find out how Nash and Zoe got their happy ever after?
The EDGE OF RETRIBUTION is available NOW and
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Read on for a sneak peek at Chapter One of Edge of Retribution.
Landing my dream job has me eagerly looking toward the future. But when I see Nash Garrison after six long years, my world is thrown completely off its axis.
He was my only friend and confidant during the worst days of my life, and I fell hopelessly in love with him. No eighteen year old girl could resist his protective nature and charming grin. I was no exception.
Now, together, we’re about to bring down the man responsible for my parents’ deaths. Revenge has been the driving force fueling every decision I’ve ever made - except for Nash.
What is it about him that sends the most rational parts of my brain into a tailspin? And how do I balance on the edge of retribution without tumbling into heartbreak once more?
This is a full length, romantic suspense standalone.
The EDGE OF RETRIBUTION is available NOW and
FREE with Kindle Unlimited.
Read on for a sneak peek at Chapter One of Edge of Retribution.
Chapter One
Zoe
Nudging the driver’s side door closed with a lively flick of my hip, I sing the song School’s Out. Trailing my fingers along the curved red fender on my mother’s Volkswagen, I eagerly belt out the next line about school being out forever.
Today was officially the last day of my senior year. Almost giddy with excitement, I practically skip along the slate path to the front door of my home. I stayed after for an extra hour as most of the graduating class did, signing yearbooks and making plans for life after school. Beach days, movies, bonfires, grilling out – the summer stretches before me with endless possibilities for having fun.
My excitement about what the future holds can barely be contained inside my lean frame. I’m buzzing with an all-natural high from thinking about going off to Boston University in the fall. High school was fun, but how can it even compare to college life?
Unlocking the front door, I open my mouth to call out a greeting to my mom, when I notice a strange man kicked back on our couch like he belongs there. My words disappear, and my feet freeze in place despite every instinct shouting for me to turn and run.
He smiles chillingly and rises to his feet. “Zoe, I’ve been waiting for you to get home.”
How does he know my name?
“I’m Karl,” he introduces himself, striding purposefully toward me. My teeth press into my bottom lip stifling a whimper when I notice the gun gripped firmly in his right hand and aimed my way. “Let’s go see your parents.” He ushers me back outside toward a dark blue sport utility.
“Where are my parents?” I question, fighting to keep my voice from quivering as the barrel of the gun presses firmly into my lower back.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be reunited with them shortly. Now get in.” I notice what sounds like the hint of a Russian accent. He opens the back-passenger side door and I climb onto the seat. Sitting on my hands, I fight the urge to flee. Running would be an almost certain death - I’m fast, but I can’t outrun a bullet. I think about my mom and dad and wonder where they are.
Is he really bringing me to them?
Karl closes me inside and my gaze flashes to where the door handle should be, but it’s noticeably absent. My eyes squeeze shut, and I remind myself to breathe. I must remain calm and find a way out of this situation.
Both my parents are FBI agents who have been overseeing an undercover operation deep within a crime organization run by a man named Marius Popov. I’m not sure what’s happened, but this guy Karl must be one of Popov’s men.
He slides into the driver’s side and hands me a black pillow case. “Put this over your head and lie down. Don’t remove it, unless you want to make the trip bound and gagged in the hatch.”
I do as he says, slipping the coarse material over my face, tugging it to my shoulders. Instantly, I’m claustrophobic and feel as though I can’t breathe.
Relax, I reassure myself. Nobody dies from a pillowcase.
Swinging my legs up onto the bench seat, I lie on my left side. Wrapping my arms around my torso, I feel something hard pressing against my nauseous stomach. Oh my God. M
y pepper spray is in the pocket of my hoodie and Karl never took the time to search me. The same sweatshirt I wore to the mall the other night.
My dad, always safety conscious because of his work, reminded me to bring the spray as I was about to walk out the door. Annoyed at the time, I rolled my eyes and did what he requested. Now, I’m grateful to have it as a line of defense.
We ride in silence for what must be hours before we finally park. Karl shuts off the engine and I hear him exiting the vehicle. My hand slips into my pocket, clutching the small can in my fist. I quickly tug the bottom of my sleeve down to mask what’s in my grasp.
The door next to me opens and Karl jerks me from the seat without warning. I barely have time to get my feet beneath me before he’s dragging me along beside him. My legs, stiff from the long ride make me feel uncoordinated.
“Watch the stairs,” he laughs as I trip up them. Karl’s a real funny guy. Clearly, he’s missed his calling to be a comedian.
Once we’re inside he yanks the cover from my head, dropping it onto the food splattered kitchen table. My long brown hair lands every which way and I rake a hand through the tousled mess pushing it back off my face into a poor semblance of order. My nose wrinkles as the scent of rotten food assaults my nostrils.
Scanning the disorderly space, I take in the pile of dirty dishes sitting in the sink and the overflowing trash can, before he tightly grips my arm and leads me into the next room.
“Here she is,” Karl announces, to another man, roughly shoving me away from him. I stumble a few steps, before regaining my balance.
“No...no,” my mom sobs from the wooden chair she’s tied to. Her bottom lip is split and bloody, and her right cheek is swollen and bruised. Oh my God.