Kiss Me, I'm Irish

by Roxanne St Claire

  And she’d never asked for help or pity. Not once. Now was the time to pay her back and that’s what he’d spent the past week doing.

  Then he’d have to go back to Vegas. Even though he liked being home, liked being at the bar, liked the idea that he might enjoy a mature and equal relationship with his father. But he’d be a constant reminder to Kendra of the past, and Seamus would want him around a lot. However, before he left, he had to help her get what she wanted.

  And that’s where Jack Locke came in.

  When Jack sauntered across the wide-open terminal and flashed that audacious grin, Deuce knew he had the only man for the job. Kendra’s brother was six-foot-two inches of irreverence and trouble who now, at thirty-three, held the position of one of the top art directors on Madison Avenue and was rewarded richly for his talent.

  Except you’d never know it by the look of him, in a shirt that might have cost a fortune, but had been worn for a long time, and a pair of jeans that looked as old as their friendship. Burnished brown hair fell to his shoulders, a few locks almost covering that where’s-the-party glint in his green eyes.

  Jack had been a good-looking teenager, able to charm the panties off half the cheerleaders in Rock High, but as a man he’d grown into someone who looked completely comfortable in his own skin. And still charming those panties off, no doubt.

  “Hey, man,” Jack dropped his duffel bag and they did a guy’s bear hug. “Great to see you, Deuce.”

  “I thought you came from some big meeting in New York,” Deuce said, indicating Jack’s well-worn shirt and jeans.

  “I’m the art director. Creatives don’t dress up.” Jack grinned again. “And I half expected to see you in a Snake Eyes uniform.”

  Deuce laughed as they started toward the parking lot. “Maybe someday,” he said. At Jack’s look of surprise, he held up a hand. “A coach’s uniform. I’ve got my agent looking around for the right gig.”

  Saying it out loud made it more palatable. The thought of being around major league baseball and not being a player still felt like lead in the pit of his stomach, but it was the only thing he could do.

  “That’s a pretty big change in plans, isn’t it?” Jack asked. “Who put your head in that direction?”

  “You know, you won’t believe it when I tell you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Martin Hatcher.”

  “The Hatchet Man?” Jack hooted with a quick laugh. “Where’d you see him? Stop by the detention hall for old time’s sake?”

  “Actually, I’ve spent a bit of time with him down at the field, and he comes in the bar once in a while. He’s convinced me to give coaching a shot.” Even though he had high-school coaching in mind, the seed had taken hold and given Deuce a direction he needed. “Plus, he’s been almost as helpful as you on the project.”

  Jack slowed his step as they reached the elevator. “We’re on for tonight?”

  “You bet.”

  “Does Kendra know yet?”

  “I told her we’re having a little class reunion, but didn’t mention you.”

  Jack laughed softly. “Little, huh?”

  Deuce shook his head. “You know, she’s so focused on trying to get this magic number for the investment people, that she’s sort of distracted and oblivious.”

  As the elevator doors whooshed shut in the parking garage, Jack looked hard at Deuce. “This is a pretty major effort on your part, all for her, you know?”

  Deuce shrugged, pressing the button for the fourth floor even though it was already lit. “She deserves it. She’s worked really hard. And…” And I owe her big. “It’ll be good for the bar in the long run. I mean, the whole artists’ community and Internet café thing.”

  Jack’s look was dubious at best.

  “Seriously,” Deuce continued as they reached the parking lot and he indicated the direction to the car. “She’s just got her heart in this cyber café and artists’ space, she’s worked so hard for it, and her ideas, really, are pretty ingenious, but you know how smart she is…”

  Jack stood still and stared. Then he turned toward the terminal and squinted, holding his hand over his eyes and looking hard into the distance.

  “What is it?” Deuce asked.

  “I’m just seeing if there are any airborne farm animals out there.”

  “What? Why?”

  “’Cause don’t you think that if you could fall in love, then pigs could fly?”

  Grinning, he gave Jack a friendly push on the back. “Are you kidding? Deuce is wild, man.”

  “Jacks are better.” The response was ingrained.

  They laughed as Deuce reached the Mercedes and unlocked the trunk with the click of the keychain. He let Jack give him a hard time about the expensive convertible and steered the conversation to cars and work and old times.

  He never answered Jack’s question.

  KENDRA HADN’T PAID too much attention to Deuce’s quiet planning of some kind of high-school reunion, expecting that the gathering of old Rock High friends would generate plenty of bar business, but would do nothing to help her get the elusive thirty-percent increase in the Internet café business.

  But she remembered him saying that he’d be gone all day to get someone at Logan Airport, and that left her to worry about Newman. The dog wasn’t used to total abandonment, so during a quiet hour in the early afternoon, she slipped out of Monroe’s to take him for a walk.

  The little guy had been delighted with the company, and not thrilled when it came time to say goodbye. He was particularly playful, but it wasn’t funny when he snagged her key ring from the chair and bounded up the stairs of Diana’s house. Kendra hustled after him, taking the steps two at a time.

  “Don’t you dare, Newman,” she called. “I need those keys.”

  She heard him scramble down the hallway as she turned the corner, but stopped her chase at the sight of an unmade double bed in the guest room.

  Deuce’s room. Deuce’s bed.

  Utterly unable to resist the temptation, she entered the room, immediately picking up his distinct masculine scent, and some kind of sixth sexual sense sent a shiver down her spine. She stared at the impression his head had left on the down pillow, drawn to the bunched-up sheets and comforter, mesmerized by the casually dropped T-shirt and a pair of well-worn sleep pants on the floor next to the bed.

  Deuce slept there.

  Newman barked outside the door, and she heard the keys fall on the floor as he scampered downstairs, evidently done with his silly games.

  But she couldn’t stop her silly games…pulled by some powerful force that compelled her to sit at the edge of Deuce’s bed, run her hand over his sheets, maybe take a quick sniff of that pillow.

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the dismal depths she’d reached. Mooning over his pillow aroma, for God’s sake. Why not just whip out her trusty notebook and inscribe “Mrs. Deuce Monroe” in the margin?

  Newman’s yelp suddenly turned furious and loud, and Kendra stood to call him. But just as she opened her mouth, the sound of men laughing drifted up the stairs. She froze, and listened. Newman was silent, then she heard the oddest thing.

  Her brother.

  She closed her eyes, rushing back through time, practically feeling the grates of the heat register pressed to her ear, her heart hammering as she waited for Deuce’s voice.

  Was her imagination playing some kind of trick on her?

  But there it was, the low timbre of a voice she’d know anywhere, anytime. Deuce was having a conversation with his best friend, Jack…in earshot of Kendra.

  The years slipped away as she listened.

  “I wondered when you’d get back to those flying pigs,” Deuce said.

  Flying pigs? Surely she misunderstood him. She took a few steps to the door, as rapt by his conversation as she had been with his bed.

  “It’s written all over your face, dude.” That was definitely Jack. What was he doing here?

  Oh, of course. The reuni
on. He must want to surprise her. Well, the surprise was going to be on him when she skipped into the kitchen and announced—

  “You’re a goner over her,” Jack added, just loud enough for her to hear over her slamming heartbeat. “I can’t believe it. Deuce Monroe is in love.”

  That heartbeat skipped, then stopped. Kendra closed her eyes and gripped the doorjamb. Deuce is in love?

  “Don’t get your pants in a bunch, Jackson,” he replied. “She may be your sister, but she’s a grown woman.”

  His…sister?

  A wave of euphoria and sheer disbelief threatened to unbalance her. Deuce was in love with her? Was she hearing this right?

  Or was this some really unfair and heartless trick of her imagination and memory? The confession she’d dreamed of hearing through that heating duct for all those years…was it possible? Was she dreaming?

  She missed what Jack said because Newman let out a joyful yelp. Someone must have given him a treat.

  They laughed at something, and she waited for more. To hear him confirm what she thought she’d heard…that Deuce was in love with her.

  “So what are you gonna do about it?” Jack prompted and she made a mental note to kiss him for that later.

  Her grip tightened on the wooden frame, her throat so dry she thought she’d choke. What was he going to do about it?

  I’m going to…love her. Marry her. Give her nine children.

  “You don’t understand.” Deuce’s voice was low, but clear enough for her to hear. “This situation is a lot more complicated than you realize.”

  “Because of the bar?”

  “Because…”

  Kendra held her breath and waited for the explanation.

  “Because I have a habit of getting in the way of your sister’s happiness.”

  Aw, Deuce. You are my happiness.

  She heard the pantry door close and Newman barked, drowning out Jack’s response. Damn if this wasn’t exactly like when the heat blasted on and she couldn’t hear what they were saying.

  “Yeah, that’s true,” Deuce agreed.

  What was true?

  “But there’s more to it, isn’t there?” Jack asked.

  Even up the stairs, she could hear Deuce sigh. She imagined him running a hand through his thick hair, his dark eyes clouded over with trouble. “I’m a…reminder of something I think she’d rather forget.”

  Her stomach clutched as she waited for them to continue. Hadn’t he promised her he wouldn’t tell Jack the truth?

  “No matter what you think you remind her of, Deuce, she’s been through worse. Believe me. She’s one tough cookie.”

  They had no idea they were talking about the same thing. About her baby, her loss.

  “She deserves to have her dreams, Jack. She wants this big cyber gig and artists’ space, and I’m afraid I’ll just stand in her way.”

  Did he really believe that?

  “Are you sure you’re not just copping out of something real?” Jack asked.

  “Nope, I’m sure. I’m just trying to recapture my glory days, and Kendra’s trying to build something spectacular. I don’t belong in Rockingham anymore. I shouldn’t have even come back.”

  She wanted to call out. No, no, Deuce. You’re wrong.

  “I think you’re terrified that something or someone might tame wild Deuce,” Jack said.

  She heard Deuce laugh softly. “If anyone could ever tame wild Deuce, it’s Kendra Locke.”

  The world tipped sideways and Kendra leaned her face against the cool wood of the doorjamb.

  It’s Kendra Locke.

  How many years, how many hours of eavesdropping, how many innings of baseball had she endured just to hear him say that? A distinct rush of exhilaration ricocheted through her.

  “But I can’t stay here and keep my hands off her. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t stop wanting her.”

  A lifetime of waiting and listening had come to this.

  “So I gotta leave. My agent has some bites from a couple of minor league teams looking for pitching coaches.”

  The words reverberated as the sliding-glass door opened and closed, Newman’s bark now coming from outside. Peering out the window, she saw Deuce and Jack walking toward the beach, tossing a football back and forth with Newman bounding between them.

  “I let you walk away once before, Deuce Monroe,” she whispered against the glass. “But not again. Not this time.”

  Scooping the keys from the floor where Newman had left them, she tiptoed down the stairs and out the front door.

  She wasn’t going back to work today. She had a reunion to go to tonight and she intended to show up in grand style.

  If information was power, she had enough to change his plans. It was time to play the game Deuce’s way…wild.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EVERY SINGLE COMPUTER in Monroe’s hummed and flashed and zipped through cyberspace, connecting Rock High graduates around the world. Only about forty or fifty attended the reunion in person, but that had never been the genius behind Deuce’s idea. What he wanted—and what he got—was a successful cyber reunion.

  From his barstool perch, Deuce surveyed the crowd who drank and laughed with gusto, but more than anything, they emailed and IM’d and reunited with old friends in two dimensions.

  This night alone would yield Kendra her thirty percent increase for the month, then he could leave with a free conscience for what he’d done to her all those years ago.

  “Did you hear that?” Jack’s easy laugh pulled Deuce back to the present. “Martin knew it was me who painted that mural in the girls’ locker room.”

  Martin’s gray eyes twinkled as he tipped his draft to his lips. “I don’t think Deuce is listening.”

  “Sure I am. As a matter of fact, I was just thinking about my own sins of the past.”

  Jack grinned at the older man. “That was a beautiful mural. But I didn’t know you realized the extent of my talent, sir.”

  “Drop the sir,” Deuce warned, forcing his focus on the two men. “He’ll nail you.”

  But while Martin explained that he’d overlooked Jack’s locker-room artwork because the baseball team was in the state finals, Deuce’s gaze slid once again to the front door. When two young men entered Monroe’s, he cursed the disappointment that thudded in his stomach.

  Why would he think Kendra would show up tonight? She didn’t answer her door or her phone. She was totally missing in action and his fantasies about her “stopping in” to the bar only to realize it was a cyber-reunion set up to benefit her half of the business were just that…fantasies. Like every other thought he’d had about Kendra Locke for the past few weeks.

  “I can’t believe that, Deuce,” Jack said. “Can you?”

  “Sorry. What did you say?”

  Jack gave him a knowing smirk. “Get your head in the game, dude.”

  “My head’s in the game,” he insisted.

  “Then listen to the Hatchet Man,” Jack said with a sly glance at Martin. “’Cause he’s saying something important.”

  Deuce looked at Martin. “What’s that?”

  “George Ellis quit the team.”

  For a moment, Deuce couldn’t imagine what that meant. Who was George Ellis and what team did he quit? Then it hit him, more from the expectant look on Martin’s face than anything. The Rock High coach and the school baseball team.

  “Will he finish the season?” Deuce asked.

  “His wife just found out she’s pregnant and wants to go home to her family,” Martin told him. “George said he’d stay until we have a replacement, but he obviously doesn’t want to be away from her that long.”

  A flash of desire sparked in him. And images of pure bliss followed…coaching Rock High baseball, running the bar at night, married to Kendra and raising some babies of their own.

  And then he saw the two men look at each other, as though he’d spoken out loud. Had he?

  “My agent’s looking for coaching positions wi
th some top teams,” he told them, certain the insane thought had been kept to himself. “Sorry.”

  Martin shrugged. “It was just an idea. I thought there might be something to keep you here.”

  “There is something to keep him here.” Jack looked hard at him. “What the hell’s the matter with you, man?”

  “I told you, Jack, it’s…” The front door open and Deuce looked without thinking. Someone whistled. A loud voice went silent. And Deuce could practically feel his jaw hit his chest with a clunk. “…complicated.”

  Jack held a beer bottle frozen in midair on its way to his mouth as he stared. “No way,” he muttered. “There’s no way that’s my sister.”

  Martin beamed. “No reunion is complete without the valedictorian.”

  Deuce’s brain powered down as fast as the computers at night. He tried to think, to comprehend what he saw, but he couldn’t do anything but…look.

  Black. Leather. Curves. He managed to interpret that much. A sweater cut low and deep. Leather pants, skin-tight and painted over a round backside and long, tight thighs. Black shoes, with mile-high heels and a dozen sexy straps begging to be unfastened. With his teeth.

  Swinging her pale blond hair as she looked from the bar to the dozens of computers and over the crowd, Kendra’s piercing blue gaze finally landed on him.

  Wordlessly, she strutted over, and he could just imagine the tap of those edible high heels on the hardwood. But the music was too loud to hear. Or was that the blood rushing out of his head and down through his suddenly very alert body?

  Jack swooped in and saved him by closing his sister in a bear hug. “I thought I’d shock you,” he said with a laugh, pulling back to look at her. “But the shock is on me.”

  She pulled away and gave him a pat on both cheeks, and then another kiss. “Hey Jack, wonderful to see you.” She shot a more serious look at Deuce. “It appears I overdressed for the reunion.”

  He slowly shook his head and didn’t even bother to hide his full-body inspection. “Not at all.” A grin pulled at his mouth. “You look—” there just wasn’t a word to do her justice “—perfect.”

  Color rose in her cheeks, making her even prettier as she brushed the leather with a casual hand. “You like?”