Wild Irish

by C. M. Seabrook

  I nod, kissing her forehead, then releasing her and jumping in the back of the car.

  “The Navy Pier,” I tell the driver.

  The traffic is heavy, and it takes longer than I expected. Or maybe it’s just that time seems to have frozen.

  “There,” I shout to the driver.

  My chest constricts when I see her. She’s sitting on a bench, hoodie pulled over her head, arms wrapped around her chest.

  “Pull over here.”

  “I can’t stay here.”

  “Circle around. Give me ten minutes.” Hopefully that’s enough time to convince her I’m not the complete asshole she thinks I am.

  Delaney stands when she sees the limo, but I see her freeze when I exit the car, and even in the dim light, I see her lips turn down.

  “You.” It’s an accusation.

  “Before ye start laying into me, ye need to listen.”

  “Listen? To what? More excuses. You took off this morning. Without even a note. Why are you here?”

  “I left ye a damn note.”

  “No, you didn’t.” She crosses her arms, and juts her chin out stubbornly.

  I walk towards her slowly, afraid she’ll dart away from me if I move too fast. “We’ve got to stop doing this, love.”

  She takes a step back and looks over her shoulder as if searching for an escape route. “Doing what?”

  “Not trusting each other.”

  “You’re the one–”

  “Yeah, I’m the one who fucked up. More than once.” I capture her around her waist, ignoring the small protest when I run my other hand up her back, then pull her hoodie down, so that I can see her face clearly. “But I didn’t leave ye this morning.”

  “You did.” She pushes on my chest, but already I can feel her body giving into me, melting against mine. It’s her mind that I need to convince I’m not the enemy.

  “Ye already gave me yer heart, Delaney.” I tip her chin up, making her look at me. “Now give me yer trust. Believe me when I tell ye that I didn’t abandon ye this morning.” I can’t help the small grin that tugs at my mouth. “I went shopping.”

  She purses her lips and tries to pull away. “Shopping?”

  I hold her tighter and rest my forehead against hers. “I wrote ye a message on the other side of Maeve’s list. Ye wouldn’t be so angry at me if ye would have read it.”

  She relaxes slightly, but her tone is still strained, and I can see that battle she’s struggling with – whether or not to believe me, to let her guard down.

  “What did it say?”

  That she even asks is a breakthrough.

  I cup the back of her head, tangling my fingers in her hair and smile. “It said I’m madly in love with ye, and I don’t want to spend another day without ye.”

  Her mouth opens, then shuts. She blinks and shakes her head. “It didn’t.”

  “It did, love. And I meant every word. Maybe I should have written it on a different piece of paper, but I thought it was fitting considering it’s what yer sister wanted for ye. To find yer own happiness.”

  She blinks up at me. “I thought…”

  I brush my lips over hers. “I know what ye thought. Ye made it very clear in yer message. I’ve been trying to get a hold of ye all day, but ye turned yer damn phone off.”

  Her breath comes out in a shaky sigh.

  I lean forward and brush my mouth against hers, and I feel the rest of her uncertainties fall away.

  “Yer my happiness, Delaney. I’ve spent the last four months more miserable than I ever thought possible. And that’s quite the feat considering.”

  A small smile pulls at her lips.

  “I should have fought for ye. I know that. And I’m sorry it took me this long to get my head straight. But I’m fighting for ye now.”

  She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and glances down. “I don’t know.”

  It’s not the three words I was wanting to hear, and my heart does a little skip.

  “I love ye, Delaney.”

  She blinks up at me, and her eyes glisten with unshed tears.

  “And I know ye love me, too. No matter how hard ye’re trying to fight it.”

  “I do, but–”

  “Then marry me.”

  “What?”

  I pull out the ring box, and get down on one knee. “Be my wife, love.”

  Her hands go to her mouth, and I can see she’s shaking, but for the first time since I’ve known her I can’t read what she’s thinking and it scares the hell out of me.

  A small crowd has gathered around us, and a few of the bystanders have taken their phones out. I know this is going to be uploaded all over social media, but that’s not why I want her to say yes.

  I need her to say yes, because she is my happiness.

  “You’re serious?”

  “More serious than I’ve ever been.” I take her hand. It’s trembling, but so is mine. “I didn’t know what I wanted until I met ye. And when I realized what it was, it scared the bloody hell out of me.”

  She gives me a small smile, but there’s still uncertainty in her eyes.

  “Do ye love me?”

  “Yes.” She swallows hard.

  “And do ye want to spend yer life with me?”

  She nods, and a tear slips over her cheek.

  I stand, cupping her jaw, and whisper, “Then you’ll marry me?”

  She nods.

  “Say the word, love.” My heart pulses, wild and frenzied, needing to hear her say it. To say she’ll be mine.

  “Yes.” It comes out as a sob.

  The crowd around us cheers and claps, but my only focus is her. I take her hand and slip the ring on her finger, then kiss her hard.

  When I pull back, I swallow past the lump of emotion that sits in my throat, and trace my thumb along the curve of her bottom lip.

  And I let go completely. Let go of the pain and anger that’s held me back from loving completely. Let go of cynicism that was always a barrier between us.

  I can feel her own walls fracturing, dissipating.

  Every piece of me belongs to her.

  When the limo pulls up to the curb, I grab her hand and pull her towards the car, ushering her in. She’s still trembling when I get in beside her, a small frown tugging at the corner of her lips, and I can practically see the wheels spinning inside that pretty head of hers.

  I tip her chin, and brush my lips against hers. “What are ye thinking?”

  “That I love you.” Her palm rests on my chest, and I wonder if she can feel the erratic beat of my heart. “And this is crazy. You have to leave soon. How are we going to make this work?”

  For a second, I worry that she’s having second thoughts. “I know it’s a lot to ask ye to give up the life ye have here, but I want ye with me on the tour. When it’s over, we can figure out where we want to live.”

  “You want me to come with you?”

  “No, love. I need ye to come with me.” I’m not afraid to let her hear the desperation in my voice.

  She smiles then. A grin that lights up her whole face.

  God, she’s beautiful.

  “I never thought I’d be a groupie.”

  I chuckle. “Ye’ll be my wife.”

  “Wife,” she says softly, playing the word over her lips. “I like the sound of that.”

  I pull her into my lap so that she’s straddling me.

  Her lips find mine, the kiss full of emotion. When she pulls back and rests her forehead against mine, my throat thickens at what I see in her eyes.

  Hope.

  Love.

  Trust.

  “You’re my happiness,” she whispers, breathlessly.

  “And ye’re mine, love.”

  Epilogue

  Delaney

  Six Months Later

  My heart swells with love as I watch the man on stage – my husband.

  “As fun as this has been, I’m glad the tour is almost over,” Emer says as she comes to stand besid
e me, her hand resting on the small bump of her stomach. “I can’t wait to go home and sleep in my own bed.”

  Home. Cillian and I decided to go back to Ireland when the tour is over. It makes sense for now. His family and band are there, and my own parents will visit when they have the chance. One day, I hope to take them to the places on Maeve’s list.

  I don’t know if it’ll give them the same peace it did me, but I hope they’ll be able to find their own happiness again.

  From backstage, we can see the men perfectly; Cillian at the front of the stage, Aiden and Owen on either side of him, Shane on the drums.

  Being on the road with them has been an experience I never imagined. Their schedule is grueling, but every spare minute Cillian has he spends with me. Still, I can’t wait to be back to a normal schedule, for our days to just be me and my husband, and not a thousand screaming fans vying for his attention.

  Not that I’m jealous. Cillian has made it his mission to make sure I know how devoted he is to me.

  And I love him even more for it.

  As the band finishes the last song, I let out a happy little sigh. I love seeing him on stage, but I prefer being in his arms, which is where I find myself the second he walks backstage.

  Strength.

  Warmth.

  Love.

  They surround me as he pulls me against his chest, possessively, and his mouth finds mine.

  His kiss never fails to take my breath away.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and breathe him in.

  “I love you,” I whisper against his lips.

  “Love ye,” he murmurs back, not letting me go.

  “I was wondering if we could skip the after party tonight? There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  He pulls back slightly, studying me, a small frown drawing his brows down. “Everything all right?”

  “I think so.” God, I hope so. I don’t know how he’ll react to what I have to tell him. I just hope he doesn’t freak out.

  His frown deepens. “Tell me.”

  “Later. Not here.”

  He breathes out heavily through his nostrils, concern flashing in his eyes.

  “I’m taking Emer back to the hotel,” Aiden says, interrupting, one arm wrapped protectively around his wife’s shoulders.

  Cillian nods, his expression hard as he watches them leave.

  I run my finger across the deep line between his brows. “What’s wrong?”

  “This is too much for her, in her condition.”

  “She’s fine. Just tired. And the tour is almost over.”

  “Still.”

  “You think she should have stayed in Ireland?”

  “Maybe.” He sighs. “She won’t be able to come with us once the kid is born.”

  Worry creeps into my chest. “He’ll make her stay home?”

  Cillian chuckles. “Aiden can’t make Emer do anything, but I’m assuming she will. Raising a kid is hard enough, I can’t imagine how difficult it would be doing it from a different hotel room every night.”

  “Would you make me?”

  His eyes narrow. “Make ye what?”

  “Stay home…when…” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth.

  He runs his thumb over my mouth and pulls my lip free, then kisses me. “When we have a baby, I won’t leave yer side. Ye have my word on that.”

  A new fear stirs in my chest. I don’t ever want to be the one responsible for stopping Cillian from living his dream.

  His palms cup my jaw and he tilts my face up so that I’m looking at him. “Ye’re worrying me, love. Tell me what’s bothering ye.”

  I exhale a shaky breath.

  “I wouldn’t mind,” I lie. “If you toured without me. I could stay with Emer and–”

  “Are ye pregnant?” The muscles in his jaw tense, and his eyes fill with a shocked awareness.

  I can’t read his expression, but he doesn’t look happy.

  Shit.

  Fingers curling in the fabric of his t-shirt, I close my eyes and try to gather some courage.

  “Delaney?” His voice is rough, filled with emotion.

  “Yes,” I whisper, eyes still closed, unable to look at him, fearing the disappointment I might see there. “I’m sorry. It must have happened when–”

  His lips crush mine, stopping my words. He kisses me long and hard, and slowly my fears begin to disintegrate.

  Pulling back, I ask, “You’re not upset?”

  “Jaysus, no.” He kisses me again. “That’s what ye’re worried about?”

  “Yeah.” I give a small nod, and he shakes his head, still cupping my face.

  He presses his forehead against mine, and a small grin tugs at his lips. “We’re just multiplying our happiness.”

  I laugh, but tears burn my eyes. “God, I love you.”

  “I love ye too, Delaney. And I’m happy.”

  “You are?”

  The smile he gives me makes my heart skip a beat. “I’ve never been happier. And ye know what the best part is?”

  “What?”

  “This is only the beginning.”

  About the Author

  C.M. Seabrook is the Amazon bestselling author of Second Draft, Fighting Blind, Melting Steel, Moody, as well as the Amazon bestselling fantasy romance Cara's Twelve, Therian Agents paranormal romance series, and co-author of the Mated by Magic series.

  When she isn't reading or writing sexy stories, she's most likely spending time with her family, cooking, singing, or racing between soccer, hockey and karate practices. She's living her own happily ever after with her husband of fifteen years and their two daughters.

  She loves creating new exciting characters - from sexy, bad boy alphas, to the passionate, fiery women who love them.

  Canadian born and bred, she started life in Edmonton, Alberta, and now resides in London, Ontario. She attended Western University where she graduated with an Honors degree in Anthropology.

  Her guilty pleasures include red wine, pasta, binge watching Starz originals, and hanging out with her rescue pup, Jaxx.

  For more information:

  @chantelseabrook

  cmseabrook

  https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/r8p4k2

  chantelseabrook@gmail.com

  Also by C.M. Seabrook

  Fighting Blind

  Moody

  Melting Steel

  Second Draft