Fighting Irish

by Katy Regnery

  “I’ve been in love with you since the day you walked back into my life looking for a place to get married. I’m crazy about you. Mad for you. Distracted. I keep having conversations with you in my head, trying to get you to consider staying for the summer, or—or, hell, forever, but I’m not good at this and I—”

  “You’re doing fine,” she said softly, her face relaxing just a little as she squeezed his hand. “Keep going.”

  He stepped forward, closer to her, searching her eyes. “I’m not perfect, but I will never hurt you on purpose. I will never, ever cheat on you. I will never lie to you.”

  “What’s the deal with you and June?” she asked, lifting her chin, her expression so desperate to trust him, it twisted his heart.

  “We were…I don’t know what you called it. Um, friends with benefits, maybe? We’d occasionally get together at her place for dinner or drinks and sometimes that led to…to…” He let his voice trail off.

  “How long did this go on for?” she asked.

  “A couple of years. Now and then. It wasn’t a regular thing.”

  “Do you love her?”

  “No! No, no, no! Not at all! It’s not like that. Not even a little. June’s a friend. That’s it.”

  “So she was your friendly booty call across the lake?” asked Brittany, pursing her lips in disapproval.

  “Sort of. I guess.” Christ, he hated this entire conversation. “But I’d give up her friendship forever if you asked me to.”

  “I wouldn’t,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to give up friends for me.”

  “I swear to you—she and I were over the moment you walked back into my life. Can you trust me?”

  She still looked a little worried and disapproving, but at least she wasn’t crying anymore. Finally she took a deep breath and nodded. “I believe you, Rory. I trust you.”

  “Thank God.” He felt the adrenaline begin to drain from his tense body. “It would kill me to lose you.”

  “You won’t,” she said, letting him pull her into his arms. “I’m yours.”

  “And I’m yours,” he pledged. “I love you, Britt. I’m crazy in love with you.”

  She gulped, her brown eyes so wide, he couldn’t look away as she whispered, her voice breathless and tender, “I love you too, Rory. That’s why it hurt so much to think I’d misjudged you.”

  It was his turn to blink at her in shock, because never—not in his wildest, sweetest dreams—did he expect to hear those precious words from her so soon.

  “Say it again,” he murmured.

  She smiled at him—a small smile, but after their fight, he needed it. He needed to know they were going to be okay.

  “I love you,” she said. “Is it too soon for me to fall in love again? I don’t know and I don’t care. I love you. That’s how I feel, and there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s nothing I want to do about it…except to let it happen.”

  He couldn’t stop himself from dropping his lips to hers in a passionate, relieved kiss, grateful when she reached up and locked her hands behind his neck, arching against him with a low moan. His blood sluiced hot and fast to his cock, which hardened under his khaki shorts, pressing its length into her, wanting her, needing her in ways they hadn’t begun to explore.

  Reaching for her cheeks, he leaned away from her so he could look into her eyes. There was something else he needed to say.

  “I messed up on Wednesday night, Britt. I don’t want you to leave on Sunday. I don’t ever want you to leave. I just didn’t want to put pressure on you. On us. This thing between us is still new. But if you want to stay, there’s a little place over the chapel that’s all yours. Ian and I can fix it up, and you can stay as long as you want.” When she didn’t answer, he scanned her face, looking for clues as to her feelings. “Or, um, if you need to go back to Boston, I’ll come see you as much as I can. Every week. Ian’s taking over more now, so I can take a few days off and drive down for a couple of nights. We’ll make it work, Britt. God, please tell me you want to make it work too. Please.”

  She reached for his hands, covering them with hers. And as he stared down at her beloved face, he slowly realized the reason she hadn’t answered yet was because her eyes were brimming with fresh tears. She sobbed softly, tightening her grip on his hands.

  “Don’t be sad,” he said, leaning forward to nuzzle her nose, to brush his lips over hers.

  “I’m not sad,” she murmured, her lips moving softly against his. “I’m so happy, I don’t know what to say.”

  His own happiness surged and he reached for her, lifting her into his arms. He held her tightly, kissing her relentlessly before pivoting toward the empty bed. Lowering her down to the duvet, he followed, lying on top of her, bracing his weight on his elbows as he kissed her. Her fingers slid down his back to his waist, pulling his polo shirt from his shorts, and he paused in kissing her to grab the shirt behind his neck, pull it over his head, and toss it on the floor. With Rory still straddling her hips, Britt sat up and did the same, her shirt landing softly on top of his.

  “Are we doing this?” he murmured, his voice husky with need.

  “I can’t wait anymore,” she answered, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra and let the straps trail down her arms. “I trust you. I love you. I want you.”

  Pulling the pink satin from her chest, Rory gasped softly as his gaze dropped to the twin points of her pink nipples, standing at attention, ready for him. He lay down on his side and dipped his head, sucking one bud into his mouth and laving it with his tongue as she plunged her hands into his hair and whimpered. Skimming his lips to her other nipple, he circled the straining flesh with the tip of his tongue, around and around until the need to taste her overwhelmed him and he sucked the stiff nub between his lips.

  She cried out, her breathing shallow and choppy, desperately forcing his head up and smashing her lips into his for a hungry kiss. Rory reached for the elastic waistband of her shorts, flattening his palm over the rutched fabric in case she wanted to stop him or slow down. But she responded by kissing him harder, so he slipped his thumbs under her panties and pulled them down to her ankles. He knelt beside her, gently clasping each foot to remove them entirely.

  Naked on the bed with the afternoon sun bronzing her body, Brittany was so beautiful, he could barely believe that she was his—that he was allowed to love this goddess-woman, that she’d narrowly escaped the clutches of two unworthy men to somehow wind up with him.

  “You’re stunning,” he whispered, his eyes resting on the smooth skin that hid her sex. His mouth watered. He wanted to taste her.

  “Now you,” she murmured, and his eyes slid slowly up her body, locking with her dark, steady gaze.

  Backing up until he stood on the floor by the foot of the bed, he held her eyes as he unbuckled his belt, then reached for the button on his shorts, opening them quickly, hooking his thumbs under his boxers and shoving them down his legs. As naked as she, his cock jutted out form his body, pulsing with his every heartbeat, aching to be surrounded by the wet heat of Brittany’s body. But first, he wanted to be sure she was ready for him.

  Gently spreading her legs, he crawled up the bed, positioning himself between her thighs and flattening his hand over her mons. “Is this okay? If I touch you here?”

  She nodded as one of his fingers slid between the lips of swollen flesh, his calloused digit swiping over her clit and eliciting a deep moan. She closed her eyes, leaning back in the pillow beneath her head as he traded his finger for his tongue. Cupping her ass, he pulled her body closer, burying his face in the apex of her thighs and sucking softly on her throbbing flesh.

  The sounds of her moans and whimpers, coupled with the way her back rose off the bed with pleasure, made Rory’s cock impossibly harder, straining and stuff, desperate to feel the soft, wet, heat of her sex around him. The fingers in his hair tugged and scratched, and finally he realized she was pushing him away.

  “I want to feel you inside me,” sh
e murmured, her dark eyes cracking open to look down at him.

  Me too. “Are you on the pill?”

  She nodded. “Have you been careful?”

  “I’ve always used condoms in the past, but…” One, he didn’t want to stop what they were doing, get dressed, run home to get a condom, and then run back here…and two, he wanted to feel her. He wanted to feel everything.

  “I don’t want anything between us either,” she said softly, reading his mind. Her sweet lips tilted up in a smile as she reached up and caressed his cheek. “Come to me, Rory. No more waiting.”

  He leaned down to kiss her, positioning his ready cock at the entrance of her sex, then pushed forward, slowly, carefully, locking his eyes with hers to watch her, to feel the intense intimacy of the moment as they joined their bodies together.

  “I…love…you…” he panted, drawing back before thrusting forward into her sweetness again. And Brittany, who miraculously loved him back, met his movements with her own, receiving him, holding him, wanting him, and loving him.

  And after they’d cried out each other’s names and the shudders of bliss had subsided, Rory held her limp, sated body against his own, thanking God and every angel that had ever safeguarded His creation that the woman of his deepest dreams was the realest gift he’d ever been given.

  ***

  “We never finished our conversation,” said Rory, holding her against his chest, his naked front to her naked back and a warm duvet around them both. “We got distracted.”

  They were sitting on the roof of Lady Margaret, watching the fireworks that Doug was setting off up the path near the north dining hall. It was a perfect view, a perfect celebration, a perfect end to the best day of her life.

  He leaned down to press his lips to her bare shoulder. “No pressure, mo mhuirnín. I want you to decide what happens next.”

  “No,” she said, sighing contently as she leaned back against him. “I’ve made enough solo plans in my life. It doesn’t work. Any plans from now on, we make together.”

  “Okay,” he said, trailing kisses along her collarbone before resting his chin on her shoulder. “Then here’s what I want: I want you to stay with me at Summerhaven this summer. We’ll fix up the apartment over the chapel, and it’ll be yours. Well, ours. I’ll go back and forth between your place and mine so I can still keep an eye on Ian.”

  “That sounds good to me,” she said, smiling at the lake that held so many of her dearest memories from childhood and would be the sight of so many happy days with her love. “I’ll need to go to Boston now and then to check on A Better Tomorrow. And there are occasional stockholder meetings at Manion International that I attend. I meet up with possible donors at benefits and galas, so I attend those sometimes as well…though I’d love it if you’d be my date when I got an invitation.”

  “You, in a dress and heals? Hell, yes, I’ll be there.”

  She giggled softly. “And after the summer? What then?”

  He took a deep breath. She knew that if she looked at him, he’d have that telltale crease in his forehead, but she also knew that she could trust him. Whatever was on his mind, he’d tell her when it was time.

  “If Ian’s doing well, we could talk about moving to Boston together someday.”

  “You’d do that?” she asked, turning slightly in his arms so she could see his eyes.

  “Oh, yeah. I longed for Boston when I was kid. I longed for anywhere besides Summerhaven. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I had a good childhood and I’ll always love it here. But I wanted more than this camp in such a quiet town. Maybe this is my chance to have that.”

  “With me,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him.

  “Always with you,” he answered, leaning his forehead against hers as fireworks lit up the night sky over Summerhaven.

  CHAPTER 15

  Four Months Later

  “Why won’t you tell me where you’re going?” asked Brittany, her blonde hair beautifully tousled and tan skin flushed from morning sex.

  They’d woken up in her bed an hour ago, their naked bodies reaching for each other, still insatiable, though they’d spent every night together since Memorial Day.

  “Because it’s a surprise,” he said, kissing her forehead before swinging his legs over the side of her bed. “Don’t you trust me?”

  The little apartment over the chapel, which included a bedroom / sitting room combination, tiny bathroom, and galley kitchen, had been the site of many unholy deeds this summer, thought Rory with a devilish grin. Though the ever-growing devotion between him and Brittany was so true and so strong, he couldn’t imagine that a loving God would disapprove.

  “You know I do,” she said, a tinge of a whine in her voice. “I’m just being nosy.”

  “Well, Leylah Attar’s newest book isn’t going to read itself, mo mhuirnín, so I expect you’ll keep busy.”

  He looked at her over his shoulder and smiled at her, wondering if he’d ever tire of the sight of Brittany Manion, naked in bed. He couldn’t imagine a day when it wasn’t his favorite image on earth.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “I can’t wait to get started.”

  “And I’ll be back tonight,” he added.

  “I know,” she grumbled.

  “Not to mention, you worked hard all summer, sweetheart. You deserve a few quiet days off now that the busy season’s come and gone.”

  She took a deep breath and hummed softly as she let it go. “Mmmm. I guess so. But I’m sorry it’s over already. It was the best summer ever, Rory.”

  “Yeah?”

  “So much fun,” she said, pushing the blanket down on purpose so that Rory could see her pink nipples. She reached for them, running one finger suggestively around each of the puckering buds until both stood at attention.

  Damn, but she was the sexiest, most tempting woman on creation. His cock, still slick from their recent lovemaking, twitched with need, blood quickly pumping it back to its full length and width. He didn’t need to leave for Boston quite yet, did he? His meeting wasn’t until this afternoon.

  “I want you,” he murmured, pulling the blanket away from the rest of her body and rolling on top of her. She spread her legs and he slid into her hot, wet center, grunting his pleasure as she sheathed him, the walls of her sex holding him tight.

  “I’m yours,” she promised.

  He leaned down and kissed her, his tongue sliding against hers as his hips retreated, then slid forward—slowly, so fucking slowly—once again.

  “I love you,” she said, rising to meet his slow, deep thrusts.

  “I love you more,” he answered, kissing her again as he began to move faster, the friction they created them making them both sigh and moan as their pleasure built.

  He cried out his release a moment after she did, emptying himself inside of her and resting his forehead on hers as their breath mingled in sharp, quick pants of exertion.

  “Don’t go,” she said.

  He kissed her nose, then withdrew from her warm body, missing her already. “I have to.”

  Determined not to be tempted by her again, he slipped out of bed and walked straight into her bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping inside the tiny stall as soon as the water was warm. Grabbing a bottle of body wash, he soaped his body, running his hands over the muscles he’d kept in good shape with a summer’s worth of hard work in the books.

  Ian had proven as good as his promises, now six months sober and officially the comanager of Summerhaven Conference Center. And Rory, who’d managed to update and polish his business plan from Cornell, was finally meeting with a venture capital firm in Boston today, hoping to get the funds he needed to make his dream a reality. And once he did?

  Well, then he’d be ready to ask Brittany a question that had been sitting at the tip of his tongue for weeks. They could keep their tiny apartment at Summerhaven for weekends, or he could even have a cottage built for them somewhere on the property, but either way, they could move to Boston and start a whole ne
w chapter of their life together.

  But first, he needed that money.

  He was counting on it.

  It was the last missing piece of the finished puzzle he could already see in his mind, which included a wife and children he could provide for himself, even if—technically—he didn’t need to.

  He turned off the water and grabbed a towel from the hook behind the door, running it through his hair before wrapping it around his waist. He’d go back over to the office apartment to shave and get dressed, but first he wanted to spend a couple more minutes with his woman.

  Opening the bathroom door, he found her sitting up in bed, counting something out on her fingers, a perplexed look on her face.

  She turned to him, tilting her head to the side. “What’s today’s date?”

  “September 30.”

  “Hmm,” she said, biting on her bottom lip in thought.

  “Why?” he asked, opening the top drawer of her dresser and pulling out a pair of clean boxers. “What happens today?”

  She took a deep breath and brightened, smiling at him. “Nothing. It’s easy to lose track of the days here.”

  “So…Leylah Attar and sunshine today?” he asked her, grabbing his jeans off the wicker rocking chair where he’d thrown them last night.

  “Leylah Attar and sunshine,” she said distractedly, looking out the window at the beautiful fall day.

  ***

  “Are you certain?” asked Cheryl, Chef Jamie’s wife, who’d become one of Brittany’s closest friends over summer. They sat on the main dock in the sunshine, eating a picnic of pesto chicken salad and yucca chips that Jamie had delivered from the kitchen.

  “It could be anything,” said Brittany, rubbing her forehead with her thumb and forefinger. “Maybe I’m just miscounting. But I’m on the pill. I generally get it like clockwork on the twentieth of every month. So, yeah. I think it’s late. Ten days late.”

  “If you’re on the pill, how did this happen?”

  “Remember when Rory came to Boston over Labor Day weekend and surprised me? I was there for the annual Manion gala, and he didn’t think he could make it, but he showed up at the last minute? Remember?” She thought back to that night—to how dreamy Rory looked in a tuxedo, striding into the ballroom, his eyes on a search for her. And the way he’d looked at her once he’d found her? Swoon. Every woman in the room had wished she was Brittany.