Kiss Me, I'm Irish

by Roxanne St Claire

  All she wanted now was to speed up time so that this whole mess could be safely in her past.

  “Emma Jacobsen?” The delivery driver shouted as he jumped down from the van, holding a long, white box, tied with a bright purple ribbon.

  “Yes,” she said, remembering that the flowers weren’t this guy’s fault. He was just doing his job. “But if those are for me, you can just take them right back.”

  “Huh?” He was just a kid. Couldn’t have been more than eighteen. His almost-white blond hair stood up in spikes at the top of his head, and he pulled his sunglasses down to peer at her over the rim. “You don’t want ’em?”

  “No, I don’t.” Be strong, she told herself. Be firm. Be positive.

  He laughed and shoved his glasses back up his nose. “He said you’d say that, but I didn’t believe him. I never had anybody say no before.”

  “Happy to be your first,” she snarled, really annoyed that Connor had predicted that she wouldn’t want his latest attempt at reconciliation. Turning sharply, she headed back for the shop, but the kid’s voice stopped her.

  “Hey, wait a minute. He told me to tell you something if you said no.”

  She shouldn’t care.

  But damn it, she did.

  “Fine.” Emma squared her shoulders and turned back to glare at him. “What?”

  “Sheesh, lady, don’t shoot the messenger.”

  “Sorry.” She inhaled sharply, then let the air slide from her lungs in an attempt to cool down. “What?”

  “The guy said to say—” he screwed up his face trying to remember every word “—are you too chicken to even look?”

  “Chicken?” she repeated, amazed. “He actually said chicken? What? Is he in fifth grade or something?” She frowned at the kid. “You’re sure he said ‘chicken’?”

  “Yeah.” The kid shrugged, still holding the long white box crooked easily in one arm. “So. Are you? Chicken, I mean? No offense.”

  “None taken,” she said, then stomped toward him. “Fine. I’ll take them.” Even though she knew Connor was manipulating her into it. He’d known darn well that she’d respond to a dare. Her heart twisted a bit. How could he know her so well and so little?

  “Sign here.”

  She did, then took the box, which was a lot heavier than she expected it to be. She shot the kid a quizzical look.

  He shrugged. “You got me, lady. I just deliver ’em.” Then with a wave he jumped back into the van and pulled out of the lot.

  Emma carried the box back to the office and set it on top of the desk. Her fingers danced across the lid, as she decided whether or not to open it. The ribbon felt cool and slick and the gold seal beneath the ribbon read Scentsabilities, the exclusive flower and gift shop at the outskirts of town.

  “Fine,” she muttered, glaring at the box as if it were a personal challenge—which, she admitted, it was. “I’ll look. That doesn’t mean I’ll keep.”

  She pulled the ribbon off, lifted the lid and then poked through several layers of pale-blue and green tissue paper. She stopped and stared. Her breath caught. Hot tears filled her eyes, and her lower lip trembled as she smiled and reached into the box.

  A single white carnation lay atop a collection of brand-new, top-of-the-line, socket wrenches.

  “Oh, Connor,” she said, running her fingertips over the cool, stainless-steel tools. “You wonderful nut.”

  He’d touched her, damn it. He’d known just how to do it and he’d touched her heart again. Why? Why was he doing it? What did it mean? And how could she keep her heart from jumping to dangerous conclusions?

  “What’re you doing, Connor? And why’re you doing it?” She dropped into her desk chair, holding the single carnation close to her heart—and tried desperately not to read too much into this.

  CONNOR HAD A PLAN.

  He’d spent most of the night coming up with it, and now all he had to do was wait and see if it would work.

  Leaving Emma the night before had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Forget boot camp. Forget active duty in a war zone. They were nothing.

  Walking away from a woman you’d hurt was immeasurably worse. Especially when that woman meant more to you than you’d ever realized. Why is it that you never really knew how important someone was until you’d lost them?

  He’d been up all night, figuring out what to do, figuring out just what he wanted to do.

  At first, he hadn’t been able to think beyond the memory of Emma’s tear-stained face and heartbroken voice. He’d stalled and relived that moment over and over again before it had dawned on him what the answer was to the situation.

  And once he’d faced the truth, the solution was blindingly simple.

  The answer was Emma.

  Always Emma.

  He couldn’t imagine his life without her in it.

  For two years they’d laughed together and worked together and talked about anything and everything. She’d been the center of most of his days, and he’d never picked up on it. Then finally, because of that stupid bet… The nights he’d spent with her in his arms were the most perfect he’d ever experienced. He’d found magic with Emma. A magic that had slipped up on him. Magic he’d almost lost through his own stupidity.

  Now all he had to do was convince Emma that he was smart enough to recognize the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  BRIGHT AND EARLY the next morning, Emma stumbled into the dimly lit kitchen, looking for coffee. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and tossed a glance at the still-silent phone.

  She’d expected Connor to call her last night.

  Naturally, he hadn’t.

  “The man never does what you expect,” she murmured and grabbed a blue ceramic coffee cup out of the cupboard and turned for the coffeepot. She poured herself a cupful, then headed to the back porch to drink it.

  She stepped into the early-morning cool and sighed as a soft breeze caressed her bare legs. Soon enough, the summer heat would start simmering Baywater in its own juices. But now, in the minutes before dawn, the air was fresh and sweet and still-damp with dew.

  Swinging her long hair back over her shoulders, she sat down on the top step and cradled her cup between her palms. The rich coffee scent stirred her mind and opened her eyes. She took a sip and felt the liquid caffeine hit her system like a blessing.

  Thoughts of Connor had again kept her up most of the night, but this time there’d been fewer tears and more questions. The socket wrenches had been a balm to her bruised heart. He’d seen her. Paid attention to her.

  “That’s something, isn’t it?” she wondered aloud.

  “Talking to yourself’s a bad sign.”

  She sucked in a breath and whipped her head around. “Connor? What’re you doing here?”

  “Wishing I had some of that coffee, for starters,” he said, and walked through the garden gate off the driveway. He wore jeans and a dark-blue T-shirt that hugged every rippling muscle of his chest.

  She watched him come closer and wished to high heaven she’d taken the time to at least brush her hair. Or get dressed. Good God, she was wearing her summer pj’s—a pair of men’s boxers and a dark-pink tank top with a teddy bear on the front. Curling up smaller on the step, she flashed Connor a frown. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I had to be here,” he said and reached out to grab her coffee cup. Taking a sip, he sighed, then smiled and handed it back. “You look beautiful.”

  “Oh, yeah. Right.”

  “I’m the one doing the looking, aren’t I?”

  His gaze drifted over her in a lazy perusal, and Emma felt her blood begin to boil. Her skin felt hot and tingly. Her breath was strangled in her throat, and her heart pounded like a bass drum in a Fourth of July parade.

  She scooped her hair back from her face and blew out a fast breath. “Why are you here?”

  “To show you something.”

  “More wrenches?”

  He grinned and her heart sped up. “You liked ’em?�
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  “Yes,” she said, lips twitching. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He held out one hand toward her. “Now, come with me.”

  “Connor…” She lifted her gaze from his outstretched hand to his eyes. “You don’t have to—”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet with such strength she flew at him, her chest slamming into his. He wrapped one arm around her waist, looked down into her eyes and said, “Just trust me, Em. This one time, will you just trust me?”

  Emma would have agreed to anything while his body was pressed to hers. She felt his heartbeat thundering in time with hers, and shockwaves of sensation rocketed through her. Despite how good it felt to be close to him again though, Emma had to at least attempt to protect herself. Pulling back, she looked up at him and nodded. “Okay. Five minutes. Then I’m going inside and you’re going home.”

  He smiled and lifted one hand, running the tips of his fingers along her jawline. “Five minutes, then.”

  He tightened his grip on her hand and dragged her behind him as he stalked across the yard toward the gate. A wooden lattice arch rose over the garden gate, and deep-blue morning glories spread their beauty and scent along the rungs. He drew her under the arch and through the gate, saying, “Close your eyes.”

  “Connor…”

  “Five minutes, Em.”

  “Fine.” She closed her eyes and stumbled barefoot behind him. The dewy grass became river stone pavers and then the already-warming asphalt of the driveway. Emma held on to Connor’s hand, and in a corner of her mind she told herself to enjoy this. The feel of his hand on hers. The joy of seeing him first thing in the morning. The sparkle in his eyes and the warmth of his smile.

  Then he came to a stop and announced, “Open your eyes, Emma.”

  She did and immediately gasped aloud. Dropping her hold on his hand, she walked toward the banged-up, rusted, completely ruined hulk of a ’58 Corvette. Its red paint had oxidized, the chrome bumpers were peeling and crumpled, the leather seats were cracked and springing out in tufts of cotton batting.

  And it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

  Whirling around to face him, she said, “How? How did you get Mrs. Harrison to part with Sonny’s car?”

  “You like it?”

  “Duh.” She glanced over her shoulder at the car, as if to make sure it hadn’t disappeared in the last moment or two. “But how? And how’d you get it here?”

  He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “I went to see her yesterday,” he said. “I convinced her that Sonny’s car deserved to be everything it was meant to be.”

  “You did?”

  “Yep.” He smiled proudly and she couldn’t blame him for it. “As to getting it here, Aidan has a friend with a tow truck. We unhooked it at the end of your street and pushed it up your driveway so we wouldn’t wake you up.” He rolled his eyes. “Surprised you didn’t wake up, anyway, with all of Aidan’s whining about it. Almost gagged him.”

  “I can’t believe you did this,” she whispered, looking from him, to the car and back again.

  He shrugged and added, “I also promised Mrs. Harrison that once we’d restored the ’Vette to its former glory, that we’d come out and take her for the first ride.”

  “We?”

  “Caught that, did you?” he smiled, and took a step toward her.

  She took a deep, steadying breath. “Connor, no one’s ever done anything like this for me before. I don’t even know what to say.”

  “Good,” he said quickly, stepping forward and grabbing her shoulders. “Speechless. That means I’ve got a shot to have my say.”

  “Now just a darn—”

  “Too late,” he said, talking over her, his drill sergeant’s voice drowning her out with no problem at all. “My turn, Em.” He slid his right hand from her shoulder to her neck and up, to cup her cheek. “I see you, Emma. The real you.”

  His thumb traced her cheekbone with long, gentle strokes, and he silently prayed that for once in his life, he’d find the right words. The words he needed to win this woman—because without her his life looked long and lonely.

  “Last night, when you closed the door and sent me away,” he said, shaking his head slowly, as if unable to bear the remembered pain of being shut out, “I finally knew.”

  “What?”

  “I love you, Emma Jacobsen.”

  “Oh, Connor,” she whispered, “no, you don’t.”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  His voice was steely and every word stood on its own, loud and proud. Her eyes went wide and filled with tears, but she blinked them away, for which he was grateful.

  “Hey, surprised me, too,” he said, a strained, half laugh choking him. “I’d always thought that I didn’t need love. That my life was fine, just the way it was. But the only reason it was fine, is because you were in it.” He cupped her face between his palms and stared directly into her eyes. “When something good happens, you’re the one I want to share it with. When I feel like hell and nothing’s going right, I head right here—to talk to you.”

  She reached up and covered his hands with hers. “Connor, I…”

  “Without you, Em, there’s no laughter.” He shook his head and smiled down at her. “There’s no warmth. There’s only emptiness. And I don’t want to live like that. I want to live with you. I want to marry you. Have babies with you. Build a future with you.”

  “You what?” She dropped her coffee cup, and it landed with a solid crash on the asphalt, spilling hot coffee as it went.

  Instantly Connor scooped her into his arms and held her cradled close to his chest. “You okay?” he asked. “Burned? Cut?”

  “I’m fine,” she said on a whisper, lifting one hand to stroke his face. “Unless of course, I’m dreaming, in which case I’m really going to be disappointed when I wake up.”

  He smiled down at her, then bent his head and stole a quick kiss. “Not dreaming. In fact, I feel like I’m just waking up.”

  “I do love you,” she said softly.

  “I love you, too, Em,” Connor said, smile gone and gaze steady on hers. “I want us to be like that old car. I want us to be what we deserve to be. Together.”

  Her heart felt full enough to explode, and her eyes blurred with tears of happiness so thick she could hardly see. And yet there he was, in all his blurry glory. He’d been her friend, then her lover and now, finally and forever, he would be her husband.

  Emma blinked away her tears, because she wanted this moment to be clear in her memory. “I’ll marry you, Connor. I’ll have a family with you. And I promise I will love you forever.”

  “That’s all I’ll ever ask, Em,” he said, and carried her beneath the arch of morning glories into the shade-dappled yard.

  “That’s all?” she teased.

  “Well,” he hedged, “that and a cup of coffee. I’ve been up all night, waiting for you to wake up.”

  “Then let’s forget about the coffee,” she said, reaching up to hook her arms around his neck, “and head right to bed.”

  Connor grinned. “You know, I think I’m gonna like being married.”

  Emma laughed aloud and hung on for dear life as she and her best friend started their new life together in the first sweet hush of dawn.

  * * * * *

  ISBN: 9781459222861

  Copyright © 2012 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  THE SINS OF HIS PAST

  Copyright © 2006 by Roxanne St. Claire

  TANGLING WITH TY

  Copyright © 2003 by Jill Shalvis

  WHATEVER REILLY WANTS...

  Copyright © 2005 by Maureen Child

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