Straight Up Irish

by Magan Vernon

  Sean scowled, and I had to laugh at the epic cockblocking.

  “I’d suggest we’d take a break in there, but you turned me down the first time I asked a few months ago, and wouldn’t want to offer unless I knew I’d get a yes,” I whispered in Fallon’s ear.

  She smiled, leaning to me. “We’ll have plenty of time at home. Leah’s guestroom isn’t anywhere near ours.”

  I moved my hand from her waist and rubbed the bare skin where her dress met her thighs. How did I get so lucky to end up with this girl? Six months and two weeks until this was all over, and then whatever we had would be gone. If the nagging feeling in my head wouldn’t leave, I could just focus on our time together. But the more time passed, the more I couldn’t think about anything but not wanting this to end. “I like the way you think.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Fallon

  Growing up, Leah was always the more outgoing one, and the first to get drunk wherever we went.

  Things hadn’t changed much over the past few years, given the fact that she was doing shots with Sean’s team at the bar. She was also singing along to some rugby songs I’m pretty sure she didn’t know the words to and was just mouthing random things.

  “Does your friend know how strong Irish whiskey can be?” Jack asked, looking across the table. I followed his gaze to see Sean trying to put his arm around Leah, but she shook him off, turning in the opposite direction.

  “She can handle herself. She’s been able to out-drink all the boys since high school. Not that she’s an alcoholic or anything, but she said it was in her genes, since her dad is an alcoholic and a card shark in Vegas.” I looked at Jack’s furrowed brow and sighed. “I’m doing that rambling thing again, aren’t I?”

  Connor squeezed my shoulder and placed a kiss on my temple. “Yeah, but it’s cute.”

  “If you’re trying to prove to me that you two like each other, the PDA really isn’t necessary,” Jack said, picking at the remains of his fish and chips.

  Was it? I kept telling myself that Connor was treating me like this to prove that we were getting married for real. It was the only thing that kept me from completely melting every time he did something sweet.

  Instead of replying to Jack with some smart answer, I looked at Leah’s untouched plate of coddle. She said she wanted to try something authentic. But as soon as the dish came to the table, she was already moving toward the bar.

  “Maybe I should go check on Leah…” I said, glancing at Connor. Any excuse to get out of the awkward situation, and talking to Jack about our relationship was definitely one of those.

  “Ah, might be wise. Been a long day for her, and we still have all of that bread pudding to eat at home,” Connor said, looking to Jack. “You still coming to see the new place?

  Jack smirked. “I thought the obligatory family time was over.”

  Connor laughed. “It’s just beginning, I think.”

  “I’ll let you two go back to your brotherly bonding, and I’ll grab Leah,” I said, squeezing Connor’s knee before I scooted out of the booth and headed for the bar.

  “How do you pronounce that again? Is it slawn-chuh?” Leah asked a burly guy with a shaved head on the barstool next to her.

  “Ah, girl, Slainte!” he said, raising his glass before they both took a shot.

  “Leah, how’s it going?” I asked, stepping next to my friend, watching the burly man look me up and down.

  “Great,” she yelled before leaning toward me, whiskey practically pouring out of her as she whispered, “Holy shit, I think I’m getting too old to hang, and may be in over my head.”

  I took the hint and smiled, looping my arm through hers to pull her off the stool. “No, you can’t stay with your new friend. You have to go home with me,” I yelled for good measure.

  Some of the guys next to her made booing noises, and Leah smiled. “Sorry, boys, the bride-to-be and bestie wins on this one.”

  “We all going home?” Sean asked with a grin, hopping off his barstool and walking in step with us to the table. Connor and Jack stood up, the plates cleared and table cleaned.

  “Ready, pinky?” Connor asked, holding his hand out to me.

  I looked at Leah, who was a bit wobbly on her heels, and Sean, who was grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

  Jack must have sensed my questioning because he took a few steps and put his hand on Sean’s shoulder. “Come on, brother; you can ride with me to the countryside. That way Leah can lay in the back seat, or throw up, whichever comes first.”

  “If you’re gonna throw up, tell me so I can stop. That’s a stink to get out of leather,” Connor said, waggling a finger at Leah.

  She laughed before holding her head. “Sorry, the Irish slang is cute, but laughing hurts.”

  Connor smiled, and instead of taking my hand, he went to the other side of Leah, helping her to stand up a little straighter. “Come on, pinky, let’s not scarlet this bird anymore and get her home.”

  Leah laughed slightly then moaned, holding onto her head. “I think you did that on purpose.”

  He gave me a knowing wink over Leah’s shoulder, and I smiled back.

  He and Leah carried on like they’d been friends for years. The man could fit himself into any situation, and that thought soured my stomach. Was he just this good at everything, or just that good at pretending?

  “You okay, pinky? Or are you a bit knackered, too?” Connor asked as we stepped into the warm night air.

  “What? No, I’m not knackered at all. Just thinking and trying not to fall on the brick streets while holding Leah.”

  “Hey. You offered,” Leah slurred with an oomph as Connor opened the back door to his car and she slid in.

  He closed the door behind her before turning toward me. “Are you jealous that I was giving your friend attention?” he asked with a smirk, putting his arms around my waist then pressing his forehead to mine. “You know I only have eyes for my blond American bird.”

  “It wasn’t jealousy. The opposite, actually,” I blurted.

  I had to stop doing that.

  He raised an eyebrow. “How?”

  I bit down on my bottom lip then ran my tongue along the now prickling flesh. “Just nice to see a guy helping out a girl’s best friend.”

  He ran his thumb along my mouth. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you, but if you keep looking at me all sexy like that, gentleman or not, I’m going to have to have you right here.”

  My cheeks flushed, and he leaned in, nipping at my bottom lip before kissing me.

  I wanted to get lost in that moment and forget about our upcoming wedding. If I closed my eyes tight enough and stopped thinking, then I wouldn’t have to face the fact that this would all be over soon.

  Leah pounding on the window broke up our kiss, and I almost jumped out of my heels before whirling around to see her face pressed to the glass.

  “Can you guys save that for the bedroom? I’m hungry, thirsty, and tired. Not a good combination.”

  Connor and I both laughed before he opened my door. “We’ll continue this later.”

  I smiled, getting into the car. All of this seemed like a fairy tale come true, and for the most part, it was. Well, everything but Prince Charming and I living happily ever after past six months.

  …

  “I don’t know if I’m just super drunk, or knackered, whatever the Irish call it, but this stuff is delicious. What did you call it again?” Leah asked as I reached across the breakfast bar and scooped her another helping of bread pudding.

  Connor and Jack managed to wrangle Sean into sitting on the back porch with them for a drink. I didn’t think Sean was going to stop trying to get in Leah’s pants. It made me wonder if he was always that forthcoming or just wasn’t used to a girl turning him down. Sort of like his older brother Connor.

  “It’s just bread pudding. You probably should eat something else. I think I’ve got some soda bread and soup in the fridge I can warm up,” I o
ffered and didn’t even give her a chance to respond before I opened the subzero fridge and pulled out the food.

  “I don’t remember the last time I ate,” she said, between shoving bites of food in her mouth. “Between drinking during my layover so I could get on that long-ass flight and not die, barely sleeping, then doing shots with those rugby guys…pretty sure I should be dead by now.”

  I smiled, putting the soup in a bowl then in the microwave. “Well, I’m glad you aren’t. Who else would have helped me pick out my wedding dress?”

  “You know, I was pretty skeptical of this whole shindig, even when Connor called me then sent me a ticket to come here,” she said, leaning back slightly on her stool.

  “I thought you were Team Connor and all that?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “No, I was Team Bang-his-brains-out, which by the way he looks at you, I’m pretty sure he’s done more than screw you.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  I took two oven mitts from the drawer and pulled the soup out of the microwave, rolling my eyes at her comment. “First of all, I have no idea what you’re talking about with the way he looks at me. Second of all, is there more than screwing?” I asked, setting the bowl in front of her and placing a piece of bread on the plate next to it.

  She lifted her spoon, blowing on the hot liquid. “He’s totally in love with you. I don’t know how you can’t see that.”

  I forced a tight-lipped smile and repeated the words I’d been telling myself over and over. “I’m pretty sure it’s an act. I’m here for the money. We both are.”

  “Ouch,” she barked.

  I raised my eyebrows. “What? Soup too hot?”

  She shook her head, putting her spoon in the bowl. “No, but what you said was pretty damn mean. I’ve never heard you say anything like that. I don’t think you believe it, either. You’re just trying to protect yourself from being hurt like you were with Ray, and like you have been over and over again with your parents.”

  “Ray was a different story, and so are my parents,” I muttered, not wanting to rehash all of this. The mention of either of them had the hair on the back of my neck standing on end.

  She nodded, pulling off a hunk of bread. “Yes, and Connor is your own story. You can’t just think it’s going to be the same. He’s an entirely different guy than Ray, and he’s definitely not your parents.”

  “You don’t even know him,” I replied.

  “But I do know you want this to be more than just a marriage of convenience. It’s why you let me talk you into that off the shoulder ball gown today when you just wanted that little white dress,” she said, stuffing a piece of bread in her mouth.

  “Yeah, and then you said I needed that other dress for the reception anyway, so I got both. On Connor’s credit card, no less. Do you know how many bags of Cheetos I’m going to have to buy to pay that back to him?” I pointed a finger at her, glancing at the way my engagement ring sparkled in the light from above us.

  She grabbed my outstretched hand, looking where my gaze also landed. “I may still be tipsy, and you might be scared as hell right now, but you know what? Everything happens for a reason. Maybe this all started out as something else, but now it’s turned into more.”

  “You can think what you want. But for better or for worse, in two weeks I’ll be temporarily Mrs. Connor Murphy. I don’t want to think anything else beyond that.”

  “Temporary positions can always turn into permanent ones, you know,” she replied, grabbing another hunk of bread.

  I smiled and nodded instead of responding, bile rising in my throat. Maybe that was the case for some people when it came to jobs. But when it was a marriage agreement, nothing said that it had to become anything more than what it was: temporary.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Connor

  Since Sean had been kicked out of his place, again, he was staying at the old flat, and Leah was staying in our guest room. This left nowhere for me to get alone time with my soon-to-be-wife.

  The wife who had a new skittish beat to her. Which, I thought, was pre-wedding jitters like I was having.

  No way in hell did I have cold feet, but I was starting to have second thoughts whether this was the right way to do everything. We had a year for the inheritance clause to run out. Why not stay engaged for a while? There wasn’t a rush now that the board knew we were engaged, and they weren’t questioning anything. But now all the members of the board were on their way to the chapel to watch Fallon and I stand in front of Patrick and say our vows.

  “Your hands are shaking, brother. Sure you aren’t getting cold feet?” Sean asked, passing a bottle of whiskey to Jack over the pew.

  This was it. It was finally our wedding day.

  The boys and I were already at the church in our charcoal tuxes and green ties. We sat in the back pew to have some quiet time before the guests arrived. And there was one set of guests I was mainly worried about.

  “Wow, this is what an Irish church looks like? Almost like the VFW hall in Galena,” a thick Midwestern-American accent called.

  Jack, Sean, and I turned to face the front doors where a middle-aged woman with white-blond curls and a blue dress held the arm of a haggard man with an unkempt beard and shaved head.

  Fallon hadn’t told me much at all about her parents, but I could have picked the outcast Americans out of any crowd. Especially when they were pushing the wheelchair of an old woman in a bright green dress with an even more radiant smile on her worn face.

  I stood up, buttoning my suit coat before walking over to the couple with my hand out. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith and Nana. I’m Connor Murphy, Fallon’s fiancé.”

  The blond-haired woman’s blue eyes narrowed as she looked me over. “So you’re the famous Irish fella that Fallon’s gonna marry.”

  “Ah, that I am, ma’am,” I said, shaking her hand then turning to Fallon’s da.

  “Thank you for helping us out. We really appreciate being able to get here for the wedding. Though I will say, we did expect a big ol’ cathedral or something,” he said with a laugh, revealing his tobacco stained teeth.

  “Hush, Son,” Nana hissed, smacking him in the stomach before she set her gaze on me. “Pay him no mind. Obviously, his father never taught him manners, which I hope is something you’ll teach to my great-grandbabies.”

  Gulping, I forced a smile and leaned over to hug Nana and kiss her cheek. “I don’t think we’ll be talking about great-grandbabies anytime soon, Nana.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that those great-grandbabies wouldn’t come from me, if ever. A twinge of guilt knotted in my stomach. Fallon’s family was here to see their daughter marry a man they thought was going to be with her forever. Instead, they got the gobshite Connor Murphy who was marrying her to get his company.

  Fallon’s mom put her rough hand on mine as I stood back up. “We do appreciate you helping us. I know Fallon’s probably told you what fuck-ups we’ve been as parents, but we really can’t wait to see our baby girl again.”

  “Neither can I,” I said with a curt nod then extended my hand. “Shall I show you to a seat?”

  …

  Soon the rest of the guests filtered into the church. There were a few of colleagues, and my aunts and their families, but enough of the people there who mattered.

  Jack and Sean stood to my left, with Patrick in the middle, holding an open bible, the worn leather a stark contrast to his white robe.

  Before I could think any more on this arrangement that got Fallon and me here in the first place, the doors opened. All eyes turned to the bright sunlight and Leah in a green dress with daisies in her hair. She smiled at everyone, walking down the aisle to meet Jack and Sean in the middle. They each gave her an arm to hold and walked to my other side.

  Fallon wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and my hands started to shake.

  Maybe she wasn’t just getting cold feet, but already had them and had gotten the hell out of town. Maybe she flew back to America i
nstead of staying at the hotel I booked with Leah so we wouldn’t see each other before the wedding. Maybe she got wind that her family was coming and decided to break it all off.

  Before I could even take a breath, the driver of the black sedan Leah just emerged from opened the back door. Out came a pair of green heels, followed by a flowing white skirt.

  I looked all the way up the dress and those sun-kissed shoulders to the smiling face of my bride as she walked up the cement stairs and into the church.

  The band from our first dance and proposal started up Pachelbel’s Canon in D. The crowd stood and watched Fallon as she slowly walked down the aisle.

  I could have watched her smile forever. But it slowly faded as she approached the pew her parents were sitting in. Then she blinked hard when she looked down and saw Nana.

  Instead of saying anything, both parents kissed her cheek. Nana pulled her in for a hug, whispering something I couldn’t hear but garnered a flush that crept across Fallon’s cheeks.

  She shook her head and gave Nana’s hand one last squeeze before she finally smiled again, and I met her at the bottom of the altar.

  “Did you fly them all here on a private plane?” she whispered.

  I laughed softly. “That’s reserved for the honeymoon.”

  “We’re taking a honeymoon?”

  I took her hand, intertwining our fingers. “Ah, now, I have to cross some more off that bucket list of yours.”

  She squeezed my hand, then we both turned to the smiling Patrick as his booming voice called over the crowd. “Welcome Fallon and Connor, my dear friends who are here to stand before God and their friends and family to profess their love to one another.”

  I looked at Fallon out of the corner of my eye. This may have all started out for show, but glancing at this beautiful woman with her lovely smile, and her long blond hair swept into some sort of fancy updo, I was starting to have different thoughts. I wasn’t a forever kind of guy, but watching Fallon with her family, and seeing the love she had for them, made me start to wonder if the feelings I’d been holding in for this girl were so much more.