All Our Luck: Complete Irish Reverse Harem Series

by Roxanne Riley

  “Well, let him in, then,” I tell Barry.

  He opens the door and I see my brother standing on the porch. To my relief, he looks cheerful and relaxed in a way he wasn’t the last time I saw him.

  “Hey, Barry!” He reaches down and tousles the boy’s hair.

  “Hi, Uncle Daniel,” the boy replies.

  Cillian peers around his legs, like he’s expecting someone else.

  Unlike me, the boys had claimed Daniel and their cousins as family right away.

  “Did Rowan and Keenan come with you?” Cillian asks hopefully.

  “You bet they did, they’re bringing their new Nerf guns from the car,” Daniel says.

  The boys light up and shoot upstairs like lightning to go retrieve their own weapons of foam dart-based war.

  I laugh.

  “Sorry, you’re just not as fun as your kids,” I tell him, “Come on in.”

  His boys, Rowan and Keenan, appear behind him, armed with colorful plastic artillery. “Where are they?!” Keenan asks excitedly, looking for the boys.

  A war cry sounds from the top of the stairs and I turn to see Barry, Cillian, and Seamus armed and ready for battle. “Backyard,” I order, “All five of you, now.”

  I know better than to let a single Nerf dart be fired in the house, and with the manic energy they’re all exuding, I know chaos is about to erupt. I usher them all out into the back and let the insanity explode, screaming and the weird thud-slash-bang sound that the Nerf guns make when fired.

  Rowan and Keenan are just between Barry and Cillian in age. When Daniel’s wife, Nola, passed away, about five years ago, I had tried to step in and help him as much as possible, moving him and the boys into our house for a while and taking on his kids as well as Brogan’s.

  We slowly transitioned to Daniel going back home and me making the commute there with my boys every few days, but now that all the kids are school-aged, I haven’t been needed as much, and so I’ve been cooped up more and more by myself at home.

  “So how are you?” I ask my brother, leading him into the kitchen and gesturing for him to sit at the table while I put on the kettle,“You look a little less stressed than last I saw you.”

  He nods. “Now that I’ve had a little more time to adjust to the new position, it’s gotten better.”

  I had last seen my brother about a month and a half ago, shortly after he’d gotten a promotion at work, and back then the bags under his eyes were deep enough that he could have used them for international travel. But now he looks far more at ease.

  The kettle begins to whistle, and I pour us each some tea. Daniel takes a sip right away and I wince. I swear, the man has no nerve endings in his mouth.

  “So, what brings you down to my neck of the woods today?” I ask, stirring a dollop of honey into my cup.

  Daniel takes a huge gulp of his tea and his cheeks redden.

  “I um, I actually have a date,” he admits.

  My jaw drops. “You do? And you weren’t going to tell me?!”

  He sighs. “I guess I have kind of mixed feelings about it.”

  “Why is that?” I look at him, puzzled.

  “I haven’t been on a date in years, Molly. And I knew Nola

  for over 10 years before I started dating her. So the idea of going on a normal date so soon-”

  “Daniel,” I silence him firmly, “Five years is not soon. You have every right to happiness, no one expects you to spend your whole life grieving. And Nola wouldn’t want that, either.”

  Daniel rakes his hand through his hair.

  “I’ll never have what I had again,” he says, sounding sad.

  “I know that, Dan,” I tell him softly, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have something different that’s just as good.”

  He nods, then looks me in the eye.

  “Moll,” he says with a sigh, “I think you need to get out of here.”

  “What?”

  “I think you need to leave Brogan, and find a life that makes you happy.”

  My stomach twists. I’ve kept Brogan’s abuse under wraps, knowing Daniel would be infuriated. It just wasn’t a conflict I was equipped to handle. But I know he’s been suspicious for years anyway. I didn’t suddenly become a klutz when I got married. “What makes you think I’m not happy?”

  Daniel gives me an “are you a fucking moron?” look.

  “Molly, anyone with eyes can see it. You’ve lost your fire. That man is sucking the life out of you.”

  I feel a lump in my throat.

  He’s right, I know he’s right. But I can’t admit that. I don’t know how I could leave. I have no real funds of my own, no way to support the boys.

  “Where is this coming from, Danny? Did you really come all this way just to tell me this?”

  “When I called you on Friday, you just sounded so broken,” he says, looking worried, “And when you told me he was out for the evening, on your fucking birthday, and you sounded relieved about it? I may not be a bull, but that’s a red flag that I can’t ignore.”

  I snort at his stupid little joke and he smiles a bit.

  “Seriously, though, Moll,” he says, his smile slowly melting away, “You’re not the same person you used to be. This was never the kind of life you wanted, the bored little housewife. You don’t love Brogan, you never did, and he treats you like shite.”

  He’s not wrong. “Daniel…”

  “Just think about it, ok?” he says, getting to his feet. “And if you need a place to land, my door is always open for you.”

  “You’re just trying to distract me from asking more about your date,” I mock accuse, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

  Daniel’s lips quirk up in a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “Which I really need to get to,” he says, edging toward the door.

  I wave him off.

  “Go on, get out of here.”

  He steps forward and kisses the top of my head.

  “You have your key?” I ask him.

  He nods. He has a spare key to the house and rather than having him pick up the boys and make the drive home so late, I told him just to come back and crash here. The boys could all bunk together, and he was welcome to the guest room.

  “Don’t wait up,” he teases.

  I smile and nod at him, and sip my cooling tea as he leaves. The things he’d said are still churning in my brain, and I feel sick. He’s right. I know he’s right. I’ve justified years of misery for the boys, but it’s no good for them either, to grow up in a toxic environment like this. Even if he never lays a hand on them, he’s damaging their minds with his fucked-up ways.

  So with my brother offering me a place to stay...well, maybe it’s time for an escape plan.

  Chapter Four

  Molly

  A few weeks later, my heart slams against my ribcage. I can’t believe I’m really doing this.

  I let out a shaking breath, goosebumps breaking out over my whole body. It feels like the whole universe is screaming at me, telling me where to go.

  But can I really do it? Can I really escape with the boys?

  Yes. My heart is absolutely screaming at me to run.

  And I reach for the phone.

  I sit for a long time, gathering my courage with the phone in my hands, but finally I dial the number for Brogan’s hotel. He’s off on what he claims is a trip with some colleagues, but based on his reaction when I tried to press for names, it’s a liaison with another woman.

  When they connect me to Brogan, I collect my courage a second time. “What is it, Molly?” Brogan asks in annoyance.

  I can’t beat around the bush. “I’m leaving you, Brogan,” I blurt out.

  “What did you say?”

  “I’m leaving you, and I’m taking the boys with me.”

  “If this is some sort of joke, Molly, it isn’t funny,” he growls.

  “I’m dead serious, Brogan,” I said, struggling to maintain a cool head, “I’ve had enoug
h, and our marriage is over. Let’s face it, there’s never been any love between us. I married you to make my father happy. I’m tired of living a lie, and I’m tired of your bullshit.”

  “Why, you ungrateful little whore!” he roars, “I’ll be damned if you’re taking my boys away from me! When I find you, I’m going to break both of your fucking legs and keep your fat arse right where you fucking belong! And I will find you.”

  The threat chills me to the bone. “Goodbye, Brogan,” I slam down the phone, my hands shaking and heart pounding.

  “I did it,” I whisper to myself, before a slightly hysterical laugh erupts out of me. I’m free.

  My bags are already stuffed into the boot of the car. The moment Brogan had left on his trip, I’d started packing, cramming everything of importance into a couple of suitcases. It surprised me how few of the material items I’d collected over the years mattered enough to me to justify bringing them. But I find that I want to leave as much of this life behind me as I can.

  Although I had crammed as much of the boys’ stuff into the car as I could. Daniel had tried to talk me out of it, telling me that we could figure out some of the necessities later, as long as I got the things they were attached to. But I was uprooting them so much, I felt like I had to make up for it by bringing as much familiarity for them as I could.

  I pick up the boys from school and their smiling faces as they clamber into the car make me waver, and I hope I’m doing the right thing for them.

  “Hi, boys,” I force a smile into my voice.

  As we pull away from the school, they chatter cheerfully about their days, and I try to listen, even as my stomach churns with guilt. Will they resent me from pulling away from their father?

  And Brogan isn’t the only one I have to fear finding me. Even if I can prove his abuse toward me, he’s never done anything to harm the boys, so I don’t know if it’s enough for any legal authority to justify me taking the boys, especially since they’re not biologically my own.

  “Wait, where are we going?” Barry asks, suddenly realizing that I haven’t made the right turn towards home.

  “Well, we’re all going to stay with Uncle Daniel and the twins for a while,” I tell him.

  “Why?” Cillian asks.

  Hot tears prick my eyes and I blink them back furiously. “I-“ my voice cracks and I clear my throat, “Boys, I know this is hard for you to understand, but-“ I have to pause.

  How do I tell three kids that I’m taking them away from their father?

  “Your father and I just…aren’t working out anymore,” I manage to say, “We don’t love each other anymore,” I don’t add that we never did, “And I think we’d be better off apart.”

  “You still love us, though, right?” Seamus asks, staring at me in the rear-view mirror with those big blue eyes.

  My heart shatters. “Of course I do, Seamus,” I whisper, the tears finally spilling over onto my cheeks. “I’ll always love all of you. That’s why you’re coming with me,” I don’t admit that Brogan is going to be hunting for all of us.

  “But what about Dad?” Cillian asks, “Is he going to get us on weekends or something?”

  I swallow, hard. “Maybe something like that, eventually, ” I lie, “but for a little while, it’s just going to be us. Is that ok?”

  Barry looks up at me from the passenger seat. Wise for his age, he quietly asks me, “Is it because he hits you?”

  My heart aches. I had tried so hard to hide it from them. “That’s some of it, Barry,” I admit quietly, “So I want all three of you to promise me something, ok?”

  “Promise what?” Cillian asks suspiciously.

  “Promise me that you guys won’t ever hurt someone you love, ok?”

  The three of them nod. “We promise,” Seamus crows.

  “Cross your heart?” I ask.

  Seamus eagerly marks an “x” across his chest. Barry and Cillian roll their eyes, but they do it, too, and I can see Cillian fighting a smile that tugs at the edge of his lips.

  The rest of the car ride is quiet, a gloom hanging over the space like a dark cloud. When I pull up to Daniel’s place, they get out slowly, like every movement is painful, and the sight draws fresh tears from me.

  I get out of the car and walk with them to the door. Daniel swings it open before I can knock. There’s sympathy in his eyes, but it’s edged with pride, and he puts on a big smile for the kids. “Hi, boys!” he says cheerfully.

  “Come on in, the boys are upstairs,” he says.

  The boys make their way up the stairs with less than their usual exuberance, but I can see that they’re still excited to see their cousins.

  Daniel pulls me into the living room and sits with me on the couch. “I am so fucking proud of you,” he says, hugging me fiercely, “You finally did it.”

  “I finally did,” I say with a breathless, slightly hysterical laugh.

  I fill him in on what Brogan said, along with confessing my own worries. “We’ll make it work, Moll,” he says when I express my concerns over the legality of me taking the boys, “We’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about bridges we don’t have to pass just yet, ok?”

  “Ok,” I let out a shaky sigh.

  “What do you need? Tea, a snack, whiskey?” he asks.

  I laugh. “I might take you up on the whiskey later, but if you don’t mind, I think I might just go take a bit of a nap.”

  “Sure. Whatever you need to do. Oh, hey, and there’s some mail for you on your bed that I forgot to bring with me the other day. A birthday card from Uncle George, some junk mail, and some letter from someone in Texas,” he says absently.

  “Texas?” My stomach lurches.

  It couldn’t be.

  Chapter Five

  Molly

  “Fuck, Molly, you ok? You just turned white as a ghost,” Daniel says worriedly.

  “Yeah, just, um...it’s been a tough day,” I say, “I think I just need to go rest for a little bit.”

  I slip away up the stairs, my mind racing. It can’t be from them, there’s no way.

  I lock the bedroom door behind me and scramble over to the bed. I set the birthday card and the other junk aside until I see it. Handwritten across the top, a name and return address that makes my heart stop.

  James fucking Matthews.

  With shaking fingers, I carefully tear it open and unfold the letter inside. It’s handwritten, and short, but immediately, my breath catches.

  My Dear Molly,

  I don’t know if you remember me, but I haven’t forgotten about you. That week Chris and I spent with you was the best of my life, and I think about you every single day. I don’t know where you are in life now, but I can’t stop thinking about you, and I would do anything to see you again. You showed me the beauty of Ireland, and I want to return the favor with my home. So, I’ve written my phone number at the bottom of this letter. If you want to come and pay Texas a visit, and me, call me and I’ll make it happen. If not, I understand, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try.

  Love,

  James Matthews

  I clap my hand over my mouth to stifle a sob. I can’t believe they remember me, after all this time. Or at least, James does. I close my eyes and let my mind wander back to the night I met the Matthews twins. I’d been drinking and dancing at a punk club in Dublin and had stepped outside for some air, and when

  I saw two identical men sitting in the grass, I’d done a double-take, thinking I was far drunker than I should be.

  “Hey, James, check it out! I found a real Irish shamrock!” One of the men exclaims.

  “Now, if that ain’t lucky, I don’t know what is,” the other, apparently named James, replied.

  Their accents surprised me. These boys were definitely a long way from home.

  “You know, it’s not a shamrock if it’s got four leaves,” I tell them.

  They look up at me with confused expressions. “What?”

  “Shamrocks hav
e three leaves,” I explain, tottering closer to them in my heels.

  “St. Patrick used them as a symbol for the Holy Trinity. A four-leaf clover is just that. Still lucky, though,” I add, not wanting to crush their optimism.

  “I always wondered what the difference was,” said the one who had first spoken, “But no one could ever explain it to me, so I guess I just assumed it was just another name for it.”

  “Nope.” I stride over and sit in the grass with them, careful not to let my short skirt slide up too far.

  Now that I’m up close, I can appreciate just how handsome these two are. Tan and muscular, they look like they were chiseled for an art museum.

  “So, where are you boys from?” I ask.

  “Texas,” Not-James replies.

  I let out a low whistle.

  “You lads are a long way from home. What brings you boys all the way to Ireland?”

  “Sowing our wild oats a little before we start working at the family farm,” James explains with a grin. “I’m James, by the way, James Matthews. And this is my brother Chris.’

  Chris reaches out a hand to me to shake and I take it, immediately getting tingles in my skin from the warmth of his hand.

  “Nice to meet you both. I’m Molly Donoghue.”

  “Well, guess the clover was lucky,” James muses, “Since it seems to have brought us a gorgeous Irish gal.”

  I can feel my face heat up, and when he reaches out and tucks the clover into my red curls, that heat spreads like wildfire.

  I open my eyes, a little breathless. That moment had set off the craziest, happiest week of my life.

  Just thinking about them both has heat pooling between my legs. I decide to revisit the memory of what happened later that night as my fingers venture into my soaked panties.

  The three of us are staggering through their hotel room, leaving articles of clothing in our wake. I’m passed back and forth between them, kissing them both in a dizzying whirlwind. I lose track of whose hands are where, and everything is a blur of pleasure.

  We end up naked on their bed, me sandwiched between the brothers. I can feel Chris’ erection pressed against my backside as he kisses my neck, and James’ hands venture out to fondle my breasts as his tongue slips into my mouth.