All Our Luck: Complete Irish Reverse Harem Series

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All Our Luck: Complete Irish Reverse Harem Series Page 13

by Roxanne Riley


  “I can ask Rowan and Keenan,” Delia says.

  “I can ask the O’Learys,” I add.

  Delia looks at me.

  “Have you been spending a lot of time with them lately, then? They must really want that land.”

  I decide, given the rest of the conversation, that I can confide in both of them.

  “Well, if what they told me yesterday is true, that isn’t all they want of me,” I say, tucking away a smile.

  Gina gapes at me and Delia squeals.

  “Really?!” she asks excitedly.

  I shrug.

  “I told them I needed some time to think,” I admit.

  “What’s to think about?” Gina asks incredulously, “Three sexy Irishmen all want to treat you like a goddess and fawn over you, and that’s something you’re unsure about?”

  I laugh.

  “Well, I mean, yeah…” I take a deep breath, “But how could I really be enough to keep all three of them satisfied?”

  Delia puts a hand on her shoulder, and to my relief, there’s no pity in her eyes as she gazes at me.

  “I had the same thought,” she confesses, “But I swear, it’s not as hard as you think. And it’s fun,” she winks.

  “Oh, jeez,” I tease her, “If you’re any example, if I agree to this, I may never put pants on again.”

  She shrugs.

  “Darlin’,” she tells me with a satisfied sigh, “You may never want to.”

  After a few hours in town shopping and running around together, Delia finally drops me back off at my place. As I walk up to the door, I’m surprised to see someone sitting on my front stoop.

  I grip the bags in my hand a little tighter, in case I need to swing them, They seem weighty enough to fend off a creep. But as I get closer, I realize I won’t need to use my purchases as a makeshift weapon. Probably.

  The man on the stoop is my older brother, looking terrible in rumpled clothing and dark stubble shading his face. And his appearance isn’t improved by the scowl on his face.

  “Lance. What are you doing here?” I ask, forcing brightness into my voice and pasting a smile across my face.

  “I need a place to stay for a while,” he says.

  There aren’t a lot of things I actually like about my brother, but I do appreciate that he doesn’t feel the need to beat around the bush when we talk.

  “Well, this is your place, too,” I say, again with that forced cheer.

  When my parents had passed away, they had left the house to both me and my brother, even though Lance had long since gotten married and moved out on his own. By unspoken agreement, I had simply kept it. But I guess, in fairness, doing so left me open to the possibility of something like this.

  “My key didn’t work,” he says, explaining why he’s sitting outside.

  “Sorry about that. Come on,” I lead him inside and use my key to unlock the door, explaining, “I had to change the locks a few years ago, my key went missing and since I live here by myself, I didn’t want to risk it.”

  Lance wades through all of my dogs in annoyance. I have to tuck away a smile when I notice a number of them growling at him. I lead him into the kitchen and shut the sliding door behind us, to keep the dogs out.

  Lance sits down and plops an enormous, ratty duffle bag on the table and I start putting away some of the things I’d picked up in town.

  “So, what’s going on?” I ask him, “What brought you here?”

  “Sara kicked me out,” he explains, unzipping the bag and rummaging for something inside, “We’re getting a divorce, and the bitch is taking everything.”

  “Oh, Lance, I’m so sorry,” I tell him, feeling a pang of genuine sympathy despite the vulgarity.

  That sympathy definitely wanes a little when he merely shrugs and leans back in his chair, looking unperturbed.

  “What about Ryan?” I ask, wondering if Larry is trying to get custody of his son.

  Lance shrugs again.

  “Doesn’t sound like she’s gonna let me see him.”

  Part of me wants to roll my eyes, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Fighting for his child would take more effort than my brother would be willing to put forth for anyone but himself.

  But instead, I try to reflect the remaining scraps of sympathy into my eyes as I make my way to him and offer an awkward shoulder pat in an attempt at comfort.

  “That’s a shame, Lance. Well, you take all the time you need here, and,” I have to grit my teeth a little as I say this next part, “If you need to talk, I’m here for you.”

  He sort of shrugs.

  “Thanks, I guess. I’ve been talking to a friend in town who thinks he can get me a good deal on a repossessed mobile home I can put on the back park of the lot, so hopefully I won’t have to be here in the house too long.”

  My stomach turns at the idea of actually having to split this plot with my brother and have him living as my neighbor. And I realize that technically, I should have called him before even starting to discuss selling that land.

  “Um, well, about that, Lance,” I start, “There are some gentlemen living next door who are turning some of their lot into a sort of resort, and I’ve been discussing the possibility of selling some of the land to them.”

  Lance looks at me.

  “And you didn’t think to call and tell me that?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “Nothing’s been done yet,” I say, holding up my hands in a placating gesture, “They expressed interest and made me an offer, that’s it.”

  “And just what sort of offer did they make?” he asks.

  I retrieve Barry’s proposal out of a drawer and pass him the folder. His eyebrows raise and his mouth sets in an angry line.

  “This looks like more than just a casual offer,” he says accusingly.

  I ignore him and let him look it over. His face furrows more and more and I can see a red tinge creeping into his skin, until finally he slams the folder on the table, making me jump.

  “Absolutely not!”

  “What?” I ask incredulously, “Why?”

  “That’s more than half of our land!”

  “And? It’s not like anyone but me has so much as glanced at it in the last five years.”

  “That’s irrelevant. It belongs to be as much as it does you, and if I don’t want it sold to be turned into some sort of novelty, I don’t have to sign off on this. This is my home, too.”

  I want to fight, but by all accounts, he’s right.

  “I’m willing to buy you out of your part,” I hedge through gritted teeth.

  “You really want to make me house hunt while I’m job-hunting and going through a divorce?” he asks.

  A pang of guilt shoots through me. I mean, just because I wanted to get rid of the land doesn’t mean it’s fair to pull it out from under my brother when he’s going through such a rough time.

  “Well, hey, you know what? Let’s not worry about it tonight, ok? I’m sure you’ve had a rough day, so I’ll leave you to relax a little,” I say. “You’re welcome to anything in the fridge or whatever, and if you need anything, just holler.”

  I leave the room, carrying some new clothes up to my bedroom. I also set aside a bag of new dog treats, along with a handful of tags for some of the dogs that I had made in town to replace some that were faded.

  I felt a sense of unease. I was used to having the house to myself, and having Lance here, even in the other room, felt invasive. But I tried to ignore it.

  Growing up, Lance and I had never been close. I was six years younger, had no shared interests, and he had no interest in being the typical “protective” big brother, so we had sort of co-existed without getting in each other’s way much.

  So having him back home felt weird, like having a total stranger here. And his violent refusal of my desire to sell the land didn’t sit well with me, either. What right did he really have, coming back after all this time?

  The timing is unsettling. He just happens to need a place to sta
y when I’m looking at the possibility of coming into money? But then it wouldn’t make sense that he didn’t want me to sell. Unless he was going to try and snake more than his fair share or something or try and weasel a better deal out of the O’Learys.

  But I try to shake it off as I get ready for my evening rounds with the dogs, throwing myself into my work in an attempt to ward off the creeping sense of dread.

  Chapter Six

  Barry

  Delia came over to our place last night in a whirlwind, with Keenan and Rowan in tow, after spending the day with Lucy. Apparently Lucy had told her about the offer we’d made on the land, and Delia wanted the five of us to discuss it.

  It didn’t fully explain the weird energy coming off of her, she was awfully bouncy, but I chalked that up to the Starbucks cup in her hand. The guys were fully on board, and to our excitement, Delia had even found an interested investor in her jewelry shop friend, Gina Landry.

  Together, the five of us put together a slightly more formal offer, since that wasn’t the proposal Lucy had said she needed time to think about.

  So, today, now that Cillian’s finally dragged his ass out of bed, we’re on our way to Lucy’s place to give her the new offer and hopefully talk her into signing it.

  This time, rather than causing a ruckus with the dogs, I elect to text Lucy, letting her know that we’re here. As we stand waiting, I can hear a flurry of motion as Lucy corrals the dogs, presumably putting them outside in the back, because when she finally opens the door, no furry bullets speed out of the barrel of her doorway.

  “What’s up, guys?” she asks.

  There’s something off about her demeanor. She looks tired, and on edge.

  “Well, we talked to Rowan and Keenan and they’re as interested in the land as we are and they helped us come up with a little bit more formal sales agreement,” I explain. “Of course there’d still be things to iron out, but-”

  She cuts me off by holding up a hand.

  “You guys just gave me an offer to consider, and now you want to pressure me with something more official?”

  “We’re not trying to pressure you-” Seamus says, but she stops him again.

  “Please, I know you’re just trying to start your business, but I feel like you guys are throwing a lot at me and coming at me from all sides,” she says.

  I step back a little, a sting of guilt washing through me.

  “We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Lucy, we were just trying to help,” I explain, “You seemed so interested in the idea. But we don’t want to pressure you.”

  Lucy sighs, her shoulders falling and her demeanor softening.

  “Look, I’m just- not sure I can go through with this right now,” she says, and I wonder if there’s a double meaning in her words. “My brother just showed up, he’s going through a divorce, and technically, the land is half his, too. And he…” she sighs again, looking down at her feet, “He doesn’t want to sell.”

  I can’t help but feel a little relief. I feel guilty that she’s so overwhelmed by her family issues, but knowing that it wasn’t our advances that had put that deep frown across her face lifted a weight from my chest. Although that relief is followed by disappointment about the possible loss of our business proposition.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Cillian tells her.

  “Yeah, well,” she shrugs, “You do what you can for family, right?”

  Cillian snorts a little, drawing a puzzled look from Lucy.

  “Well, yes and no. There are limits,” he says.

  “Are you and your brother close?” I ask her.

  She laughs drily.

  “Not even slightly. Hell, I haven’t even seen him since his wedding. It’s like having a total stranger sleeping in the next room,” she admits.

  “No worse than being a hotel, right?” Seamus offers, trying to be comforting, “Or dorms at uni or something?”

  “True,” she admits, “That’s a nice way to look at it.”

  She leans against the doorframe with a sigh and scrubs a hand over her face. “I’m sorry, guys, I didn’t mean to jump down your throats. It’s just a lot to take in all at once.”

  I can’t help myself. I reach out and cup her cheek in my hand.

  “Hey,” I tell her gently, “It’s all right. If you need us to back off for a little while, we can. Right, guys?”

  Seamus and Cillian murmur their agreements. I sincerely hope that if she does want to back off, it’s purely in a business sense, because being this close to her is already making me crazy. I lean down and brush a gentle kiss across her mouth before releasing her completely, stepping back to give myself a little breathing room before I do something foolish.

  That little kiss was enough to bring some color back into her face, though, turning her cheeks a soft, flushed pink, and the tiny scrunches of tension in her face have smoothed.

  “I appreciate that,” she says finally, “Maybe we can-”

  “Lucy, why are you just standing there with the door wide open? You’re going to let bugs in,” a male voice complains from behind her.

  The guy that appears in the doorway resembles Lucy enough to be her brother, but his face is distinguishable by its appearance of being haggard and scruffy, and the bulge of his gut tells me that his complexion and bloodshot eyes come from a life of heavy beer drinking.

  “Who the hell are you guys?” he asks in annoyance.

  “Lance!” Lucy snaps.

  “Barry, Cillian, Seamus, this is my older brother, Lance Garrett. Lance, these are the O’Learys, they live next door in Delia’s old place.”

  “I thought she still lived there,” he says, looking at her suspiciously.

  “No, she lives on the other side now, two houses down,” Lucy explains, “She got married.”

  “Wait, does this mean that these guys are the ones trying to turn our land into some prissy fucking tourist attraction?” Lance snaps, whirling on us.

  “Lance! Yes, they’re interested in buying our land, but they didn’t do anything wrong. Their idea is a great one.” Lucy shoots us a smile.

  “Prissy tourist attraction?” Cillian snarls, bristling, “Just because you want to keep this place some kind of stagnant Hickville doesn’t mean that an improvement is prissy.”

  “Hey!” Lucy turns to him sharply, looking offended. “That’s enough out of all of you. I think you three should leave, now.”

  “Lucy,” I step towards her, “I’m sorry-”

  “Back up, you potato-munching fruitcake,” Lance drawls, raising a fist. “I believe my sister told you to fuck off.”

  “Lance, I didn’t-” Lucy growls in exasperation, but then turns back to us, “Please, guys, just go. And Lance, just go back inside.”

  “Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” he snaps at her, but before I can swing at him for talking to her that way, he retreats into the house.

  “Lucy, please,” I try again, but she holds up her hand.

  “Please. Leave,” she repeats.

  While every inch of me aches to protest, I force myself to listen to her.

  I want to rip that stupid brother of hers limb from limb. If he’d never shown up, I’m sure that Lucy would have accepted our proposal. Both the one for the land, and the one in her bedroom.

  I’ll give her today to cool off. But I’ll be damned if I’m letting her get away from me now.

  Chapter Seven

  Lucy

  My shirt’s already abandoned on the floor. Barry’s hands slip behind my back, deftly unhooking my bra before sliding it down my shoulders and letting my tits bounce free. Cillian is kneeling on the other side, his nimble fingers working their magic on the button and zipper of my jeans, tugging it down and stroking my slit through the damp cotton of my panties.

  Seamus reaches up from his spot kneeling between my knees and tugs my jeans down my legs, flinging the denim aside and trailing kisses up my inner thigh. My breath catches as Cillian’s hand ventures lazily up to play wi
th my exposed nipple while Barry’s tongue assaults the other.

  Seamus hooks a finger in the waistband of my panties and tugs them down so he can bury his tongue between my thighs. His tongue draws indiscernible, swirling patterns against my clit, making me writhe beneath him.

  Barry and Cillian keep me pinned like a butterfly, exposed and helpless to the onslaught of pleasure. Seamus continues to stroke my clit with his tongue, but slips his fingers into my pussy as he does, crooking them to strike a spot inside me that sends blinding pleasure racing through me.

  A girlie shriek of pleasure rips out of me and my limbs tremble, but Barry and Cillian hold me down, keeping me helpless and gasping.

  Cillian kisses me, his fingers still working the aching bud of my nipple, while Barry continues to kiss and bite the other. Seamus’ tongue flicks across my clit again and again while he pumps his fingers in and out.

  Pleasure coils inside me, drawing me closer and closer to that white-hot apex of bliss, and when it washes over me, I jolt awake, sweating and still half embroiled in the waves of orgasm.

  Fuck. I’m in my bed, alone. It was a dream. It had felt so real, though. And that orgasm was definitely real. It made me wonder if it would be half as good if they made it happen for real.

  I shake my head, scrubbing at my face with my hands. I can’t let myself think like that. If I let my hormones make my decisions for me, I’d give in to anything they asked of me just for a taste of them.

  These kind of thoughts are still swirling in my brain as I come down from the tingling, electric high of my release and continue to fully wake up.

  It’s a wonder that I got any sleep. I was thinking about everything until late, wondering if I’d made a mistake by kicking the guys out. No matter what Lance seems to think, I still think the resort idea is a good one, and while they might be able to pull it off without the land, I still want to do what I can to contribute and make it better.

  With a heavy sigh, I throw off my sheets and drag myself into the shower. When I’m dressed and semi-presentable, I make my way down to the kitchen. Unfortunately, Lance has beaten me down there, so I plaster on my fake smile as I enter. “Morning,” I chirp.

 

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