HARD IRISH
THE WELDON SERIES: BOOK THREE
USA Today Bestselling Author
BY JENNIFER SAINTS
Published by Between Your Sheets Publishing, LLC
Copyright Information
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2012 by Jenni Leigh Grizzle
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
ISBN: 978-0-9824863-6-8
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Hard Irish
Upcoming Releases
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Table of Contents
HARD IRISH
Copyright Information
More Titles by Jennifer St. Giles
Find Jennifer Online:
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Excerpt from WILD IRISH by Jennifer Saints
Excerpt from SMOOTH IRISH by Jennifer Saints
Excerpt from HIS DARK DESIRES by Jennifer St. Giles
Coming soon from Jennifer St. Giles
About the Author
Dedication
I dedicate this book to all of my readers everywhere, whose encouragement and support made writing Hard Irish possible during some trying moments. I want all those who enjoy my stories to know just how much your emails, and reviews mean to me. Writing is a solitary job, and to hear from you makes it all worthwhile.
Many thanks and happy reading,
Jennifer Saints, Jennifer St. Giles, JL Saint
Acknowledgments
My thanks to Rita Herron, my long-time writing pal and sister in the struggle of publishing for helping me stretch beyond the box when my mind only wanted to vegetate. Huge hugs and thank you to Dayna Linton and Tierney Linton for their input and for helping to make this plot zing. To Sean Linton for his grammar guidance. To Annette for her constant barrage of hunky inspiration. To Jacquie, Wendy for keeping my rear-end off of the ground no matter how badly I drag. Onward and upward! To all of the GALS who make writing Sexy and Southern so much fun! And to Tim Parrish whose best five seconds, I won’t be forgetting, your humor inspires.
HARD IRISH is more than just a sexy story, it is a story about those who lived through hard times and struggled to rise above them. It is a story of love, forgiveness, and hope.
“May God give you...For every storm a rainbow, for every tear a smile, for every care a promise and a blessing in each trial. For every problem life sends, a faithful friend to share, for every sigh a sweet song and an answer for each prayer.”
—Irish Blessing
The one thing we can never get enough of is love. And the one thing we can never give enough of is love.
—Henry Miller
CHAPTER ONE
“We’re screwed.” Bleary eyed and muttering, Jared Weldon stumbled across the spacious living room, giving the bottle of Macallan 18 on the coffee table a wide berth. This morning’s “hair of the dog” urge was stronger than ever and he had to be at church in less than an hour.
Maybe it was a good thing he was being forced to go back to beer. The expensive crap kicked his ass harder every time he tangled with it. His sensory circuits were under attack. Music piped from the condo’s sound system. Gulls over the Savannah screeched. A passing tanker honked a warning to a Sunday boater and the way-too-bright sun stabbed daggers at him from across the Inter-coastal. The jackhammer throb in his head doubled.
Fishing the remote from the couch, he activated the window blinds, killing the sun’s glare then silenced the seductive tones of Luther Vandross oozing over the condo’s sound system. Vandross turned chicks on and both he and his twin James, were all about that. The music usually played all night, not only setting the mood but effectively drowning out each other’s bedroom activities.
He followed the trail of discarded clothes to James’s bedroom door, grimacing at the odor of stale booze and left out food hanging in the air. Damn, the line of clothes seemed to go on and on. Either he was seeing double or what’s her name had had on more than he thought when he saw her all over James last night.
Jared winced. But then, his own date, April, had had his full attention. At least from the neck down. Or was her name June?
Hell, maybe that’s why she left in a huff. Who was named after a month of the year anyway? There were twelve of them, too easy to get it wrong.
He knocked on James’s door and thought it was just as well that April-June had left. He hated morning-afters. Hated pretending the sex was great and that he was looking forward to round two. Hated getting phone numbers he’d never call. Hated that by the next weekend both parties would be on the hunt again.
“Wake up, bro! The ceremony is in forty-five minutes.” Getting no answer, Jared pounded harder. Nonstop. Something he knew pissed his twin off to no end.
James snatched open the door, naked, and ready for a fight. “What the hell?”
A mirror image of himself, James looked just as rough and wasted as Jared did. And not for the first time Jared wondered what in the hell had happened to them both. Somewhere over the past eighteen months they’d lost their ass in more ways than one.
“The ceremony for Jake and Jason is in forty-five minutes and we lost the bid for the Drake Hotel renovation. E-mail came through this morning.”
“We had that bid in the bag. How in the hell?”
“Who else? Those damn vultures from across the river again. McKenna Construction.”
“Santa baby, I’m cold.” The purr floated from inside the bedroom.
James winced.
“Santa baby? Really? It’s July.”
“What can I say? I come bearing gifts and she’s Aussie. They like their Christmases hot.”
&nbs
p; Jared couldn’t see the bed from where he stood, but the ceiling fan whirling with a pair of red fur-trimmed thongs hanging on a blade told a story that he wasn’t about to ask the details on. “We’ll talk later. Meanwhile, move ass.” He nodded to the bedroom. “Make that plural. We’ve got less than forty minutes to be at the church.”
James grumbled. “I’ll hurry. Don’t know why we’ve got to swear before God and country that we’ll take care of Jake and Jason. Jackson and Jesse know were good for whatever it takes. Nothing’s going to happen to them anyway.”
“I agree. Something about getting hitched and downloading a kid has scrambled their brains.”
Thirty minutes later a suited, limping James smacked a kiss on his Aussie then climbed shotgun into Jared’s Porsche. Jared spun out of the parking lot trying to gauge how much time it would take to get to the church. He loved the feel of speed, precision, and power at his fingertips.
Suddenly, a pang of reality gripped him by the short hairs.
Without the Drake job he and James would have to cut things to the bare minimum, which meant this ride had to go back into the leasing company tomorrow and he’d have to eat the penalty.
The crash in the economy had killed the momentum of Weldon Estates, their high-end housing development on the Savannah River. New building had slowed to a crawl and Shamrock Construction needed another job to meet payroll for their crew.
James buckled in. “Elbow me if I drift off during the ceremony.”
“Christmas last all night?”
He grunted. “Remind me to think twice before sleeping with a Pilates expert again.”
“You said flexible was right up your alley.”
“Flexible is one thing. Planking during sex is another. And by the way, it does not prolong an orgasm. Nips the sucker short. I’ve got kinks places I didn’t even know I had. “
“I’m sorry I asked.”
“I’m sorrier.”
“Do I look as hung over as you?”
James squinted his way. “All I see is a blur, but no worries. There’s a sinister plot afoot anyway.”
Jared frowned at James’s incoherent jump in subjects. He hoped his brother could keep it together during the church ceremony. “Agreed. McKenna Construction’s has practically put us out of business. There’s something off about the whole thing. I cut that bid to the bone.”
“McKenna? What does he have to do with our nephews?”
“What sinister plot are you taking about?”
“Not long before Jesse and Jackson asked us to do this, I overheard mom complaining to them that we weren’t just living high on the hog, but we were living on a high wild hog and she’d wrung a hole in her dishrag. I’ve a feeling this ceremony is a way to hog-tie us back to earth. Be good examples for our nephews and stuff.”
“Hell, why didn’t you say something?” A vise squeezed Jared’s conscience.
“I figured it would blow over. It’s not like we’re screwing our lives up like Jesse and Jackson, right? We’re just doing what bachelors do. Enjoying playing the field, home run after home run.”
“Right.” Jared couldn’t argue with that logic. Both Jesse and Jackson had run the rough edge of nowhere and had barely escaped its dark side. Still, finding out that he and James had worried their mother as badly as Jesse and Jackson had didn’t sit well in his gut. Either that or his whiskey binge was turning him green. He upped the AC and sucked in a deep breath.
“You okay?” James squinted his way again.
“No. We’ve got mortgage and payroll due shortly and no job. The only possible bright spot is that couple coming tomorrow to see our spec house. But even if they buy, we’ll only be out of hot water temporarily. ”
“Then we’ll cash in the last CD and make damn sure we get the bid on that new bank they’re building north of town.”
Jared shook in his head and winced at the increased throb in his temple. Was he having a nightmare? Or was James that much out of it lately? “Reality check, bro. We cashed the last CD last month. And the bank job? Let’s just say that when Jesse carted Alexi off from marrying Roger, I don’t think the Holsteads are interested in dealing with the Weldons on any level.”
James groaned. “We cashed the last CD?”
“Yeah. Remember? We discussed it the Friday you and what’s her name were heading out to Vegas for the weekend.”
James upped the AC. Now gulping for cool air, too. “Shit. And I blew ten grand on that trip. Why didn’t you ream my ass?”
Jared shrugged. “Thought we’d be fine. Always have been before. At least until that McKenna outfit moved in on our territory. How in the hell are they underbidding us?”
“I don’t know. As you said, our bid was to the bone.”
“Bet you anything they’re using illegals for labor.” Jared turned onto East Bay Street and headed north passing through Savannah’s historic district. He loved his hometown. The history. The architecture. Its Old World flavor was like a good aged scotch, rich and mellow. He loved the fact that he and James added to that flavor with the quality of their construction and in the designs of their housing development. They did each job with pride and each house plan they’d developed borrowed some of the look and features of Savannah’s historic homes and plantations. The thought they could lose everything they’d worked so hard for was soul sickening.
James nodded his agreement. “Using illegals and substituting lower quality material when no one is looking seems to be the only way they can undercut us. We should check with our guys and see if they know any of McKenna’s crew. Couldn’t hurt to ask a few questions.”
Jared smacked his palm on the steering wheel as he hung a right toward the church. “Damn right. It’s time we take this bull by the horns before it gores Shamrock Construction into bankruptcy. Somehow I’m going to find out what McKenna’s game is.”
“If we can prove they’re up to no good, then we can get the Drake Hotel bid back.”
“Good point. After church today, I’ll go check out their last job.”
“You mean after the BBQ. No way dad will let is skip-out again. We missed the last family shindig.”
“We did?”
“Yeah, remember yachting with those party heiresses?”
Jared groaned as he pulled into the church parking lot. “You mean that trip we swore we’d forget ever happened.”
“That be the one.” James opened his car door.
Blinking bleary-eyed at the bright blue sky, Jared cautiously stepped out of the Porsche and gauged the distance to the entrance. Lightning bolts out of the blue did happen. “Bringing that weekend up before walking into church is just asking for God to strike us dead.”
James rolled his eyes, but glanced at the sky and picked up his pace anyway.
That weekend he and James had cruised with rich and infamous jet-setters. The very sketchy memories of booze, drugs, and orgy-like sex had left them both knowing they’d never cross the drug-using multiple-partner line again. The old adage “when in Rome do like the Romans” only worked out well if you want to be Roman. Jared walked into church in a cold sweat, feeling he’d pass out in any second. The smiled plastered on James’s green face said he was feeling the same.
Jesse and Jackson were standing just inside and from the instant glint in both their gazes, Jared knew his and James’s hangovers were readily apparent. Their older brothers walked over and slapped him and James hard on the back.
The jackhammer in Jared’s head worsened. Jesse grabbed his arm, leading him toward the sanctuary. Jackson strong-armed James.
Jesse was livid. “The ceremony starts in five minutes. Not only are Jackson and I going to beat you and James to a pulp for this, but Lexi and Nan can’t wait to dig their nails into you both, and behind them are Mom and Dad. Couldn’t you two have stayed sober for just one night?”
Jared regretted not having that “hair of the dog” drink this morning. “Relax. We’re here and we’re sober,” he muttered.
J
esse’s returning gaze cut deep. “You’re barely sober and as for being here, you’re not. In fact you are so far gone I question whether you could do anything to help Jake were something to happen to me.”
Jared stumbled. Not from the booze, but from the gut-slicing pain in his heart. It wasn’t Jesse’s doubts that hurt, it was the ugly truth behind them. Jesse’s grip tightened and Jared sucked in a deep breath. He stepped into the church and saw the “Come to Jesus” meeting facing him in the look in his parent’s eyes. There was hell to pay and it was coming out of his hide today.
He couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it, but knowing that did nothing to ease the bite and the shame. Jared glanced at James and knew without a doubt Jackson had cut deep, too, but rather than contrite, James looked pissed, as if he’d just had an injustice shoved down his throat.
For once in their close-knit life, Jared found no solace in the fact that he and James were in the dog house together. His world was in such a state that he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy, but somehow he’d led James down this road to ruin. If memory served him right, he’d been the first one to start blazing their bachelor’s trail. James had just followed suit and was thoroughly enjoying the status quo.
Not even God could stop the train wreck that was about to happen today.
The organ blared. The congregation stood and Jared blinked at the sun piercing through the churches arched windows as it highlighted an empty cross and cast the pastor into shadows. The pastor spoke and Jared’s mind scrambled for a foothold in quicksand as more and more of his and James’s wild nights streamed like an X-rated movie in his head. He wasn’t sure how much time passed but when Jesse gripped his elbow, he knew the moment had arrived. He and James were led to the front of the church and then faced the congregation. All eyes were on them and Jared had little doubt that a scarlet letter was stamped in the middle of his forehead.
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