by Louisa Bacio
Lucky Charms
Louisa Bacio
Lucky Charms
by Louisa Bacio
Copyright © 2015 Louisa Bacio. All Rights Reserved.
Edited by Tamara Eaton
Cover at by Ash Arceneaux
Formatted by Kody Boye
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronically, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the proper written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or undead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.
Special thanks to Heather Fortman for her searching abilities to discover the location of the stepping-stones in Tollymore Forest Park, and the lovely Christine Ashworth for the beta read.
Finally, for my Grandma, who taught me the love of the Irish.
Chapter One
“Have you ever seen a green cock?”
Jenna sputtered, spewing her green beer all over the bar. A streak ran down her ample cleavage, like a green arrow leading followers to the promised land.
“What? You mean like cock-a-doodle-doo, I hope? Bak-bak, chicken?”
Melanie grinned, flipping around the tabloid magazine, and showcasing the March centerfold – a fine specimen of a man lying on his side, all the clichés of broad shoulders, sculpted chest and narrowed waist. She bypassed his dyed green hair. Her gaze automatically diverted to his huge, green cock.
Center stage. Hello there!
“Oh, please. Can you say PhotoShopped?”
Raising two fingers on her right hand, Jenna signaled to the bartender for another beer. He made eye contact and raised his chin in acknowledgement. As the night wore on, more people streamed into the busy bar on Second Street in Belmont Shores, an upscale neighborhood.
March in Southern California tended to have mixed weather. “In like a lion, and out like a lamb” was the saying. Right now it was somewhere in between. Every time the restaurant’s heavy wooden door opened, a gust of cold air punched the warmth away.
The napkin in front of her gusted up, and without turning around to check out the new arrivals, Jenna knew others from the office had joined the annual St. Patrick’s Day party.
Only time to drink green beer, she thought, or suck green cock.
Almost unconsciously, her gaze shifted back to the magazine spread out on the bar. “Why are you reading that anyway?” she asked Melanie.
Her sun-bleached blonde friend blushed, making her blue eyes sparkle even more.
“Well, why not? Forget about searching for the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.” She leaned in, her voice in a whisper, even more conspiratory. “It says here that if you bed a leprechaun on this day, you’ll be most lucky in love. I don’t care about world riches. Just give me love.”
Poor thing had been dumped last week by her long-term boyfriend. Not that Jenna would normally berate her bestie, but she did tend to have sucky taste in men. Mr. Evergreen in the Drawers, included.
“He drove you crazy,” Jenna said, not able to help herself. “He was always late, and never attended events that were important to you. You should have dumped his ass a long time ago.”
“But he was still mine,” her friend whined, tears threating to streak mascara down her cheeks. She took a deep breath. “You just don’t understand. You don’t give a shit if you’re alone.”
Brave façade. If she had Melanie fooled, then the plan was working. Hell, at 28, she longed to be hooked up and heading toward the altar of love. She didn’t want to be alone for the rest of her life, and as friend after friend got engaged, married and then knocked up – yes, normally in that order – Jenna watched year after year slip away.
She blew an obnoxious lock of red hair out of her face, only to have it slam back down, and tickle her nose. The other 364 days a year, it was all right to have naturally red hair and green eyes. On St. Patrick’s Day, this pseudo holiday of the Irish, it totally kicked ass. To celebrate, she’d slid into her tight green leather mini-skirt, and squeezed into a V-cut T with “Kiss Me I’m Irish” emblazoned across her chest. It might be the last year for the get-up, since everything was getting tighter, and thirty seemed a bit too old for the ensemble.
Someone saddled up to the bar next to her, and his warmth pressed against her arm. She turned to ogle his fine ass in tight, faded jeans, and the most awesome way his emerald green T-shirt pulled taut across his back.
“Whoops, sorry about that,” he said, smiling down at her.
His eyes crinkled in merriment, and she got lost in the magic swirl of colors – a rich base of green with flecks of gold.
“Sure you are,” she teased back, and then leaned into him for emphasis.
The bartender handed over a few schooners of Guinness, and Mr. Muscles handed one to her and slid another over to Mel.
Holding the glass up in a “cheers” toast, he said, “So, Red, are ye feeling lucky tonight?”
“I’m feeling like getting lucky,” she replied.
His eyes widened, and he clinked glasses with her. “I’ll drink to that.”
From the other side of her, Mel jabbed her in the ribcage. When she made eye contact, her friend raised her eyebrows, looking up. Jenna followed her gaze, taking in all that masculinity again, up to his shocking green hair.
Lord have mercy if the carpeting matched the drapes. She couldn’t help but sneak a glance at his package, and what a bulge he sported in jeans. The sight made her gag on the beer, and sputter.
She covered her mouth, and he handed her a napkin.
“Whoa there lassie. If there’s anything that’s going to make that pretty mouth of yours overflow, it better be me.”
He didn’t really say that, did he? The sexually charged comment struck like an arrow, directly between her legs. And, she did her best to swallow—oh God, the innuendos kept coming, even if in her head—the remaining beer in her mouth.
“Excuse me?” she said.
Rather than answering, he trailed the tips of his fingers along the side of her face, finishing with running his thumb along her bottom lip. A warmth and tingling sensation followed the path of his touch.
Need, want, throbbed in her chest. She may not have a regular lover in her bed, but it didn’t mean she didn’t desire one. Tentatively, she stuck out the tip of her tongue and licked his thumb. A quick stroke, but enough to make him raise his eyebrows.
“Ahem,” Melanie grunted from her stool. “So, I’m Mel and this is Jenna, and before you fuck my friend’s brains out, you are?”
Jenna’s mouth dropped open with shock. Everything paused to slow motion, as she turned to check out her friend. Her eyes blazed and bright red patches flared on her cheeks.
“Well, if you’re not going to ask, someone has to,” Mel said.
“Cornelius Kearny. Pleased to meet you.”
He stuck out his right hand, and it eclipsed Jenna’s. You know what they say about big hands? She fought the urge to look down again. What had gotten into her tonight? Maybe she could blame it on the one beer so far, but really, it was something else.
“Cornelius, eh?” she took his hand, and waited for those magical sparks always discussed in romance stories. No lightning strikes, but he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, sending shivers of anticipation. “What do they call you for short – Corny?”
“So very funny, aren’t you?” he replied, and leaned in closer to whisper into her ear. “You know what happens to naugh
ty girls, don’t you? They get their bottoms spanked.”
Heat flushed up her neck and face, and when she broke away, Mel eyed her to make sure she was all right. She gave a nod, keeping the appearance going. Inside, though, everything was aflutter and between her legs, she was wet with want. It’s like he spoke directly to Jenna’s core fantasies.
Reason told her to hightail it out of there as fast as possible. She wasn’t the type of woman who brought a man home that she’d met in the bar. Or slipped outside for a rendezvous in the alleyway as he pounded her against the wall.
He gave her a conspiratory wink, and said, “You know we work together, right?”
The admission stunned her. “What? Why don’t I remember seeing you before?”
While the company employed a few hundred people, Jenna was sure she’d recognize a hunk such as this guy. Just to make sure, she gave him a head-to-toe once-over again. Of course, she lingered over all the good parts, like how his tight faded jeans bulged in all the right places, and the way his T-shirt pulled taut across his chest.
“That’s because you’re part of the marketing force on the third floor, and I’m a lowly art assistant, housed in the basement,” he said with a good-natured grin. “In any case, I’m not that memorable. I’m sure you’ll forget all about me by morning.”
“I doubt it. Well, the joke’s on me. I guess I better start touring the facilities a little more.”
That smile turned up wider, and his eyes flashed a glint of wickedness. He leaned in. “If ye remember, I’ll promise to volunteer to be your personal escort.”
The tone of his voice shot directly to between her legs. Tête–à–tête, this man could banter, and he was pushing all of her right buttons.
The tempo of the music changed to a new dance tune, and the Irish hunk cupped her elbow, and led her out onto the dance floor. Panic flared. She didn’t dance—much.
“I’m not sure …” she protested, looking back at Mel for help. Her friend did a “go” gesture and turned back to her beer. Some help she’d be.
“Come on, I’ll lead. You just have to sway against me,” he promised.
Sure, that works fine for slow ballads, but booty shaking? When was the last time she’d danced with a guy besides her cousin’s wedding? High school prom?
He slipped one hand around her lower back, and drew her close. A touch of his fingers against her bare skin made her jump, bringing them even closer together and oh my. Something pressed her stomach, and she didn’t have any problems guessing what.
Standing on tiptoe, she yelled above the music. “Do you live around here?”
The smile on his face made her realize how that probably sounded. No, she wasn’t looking to leave and hook up. Ugh.
“Not too far,” he replied. “How about you?”
“Only a few blocks away. Didn’t want to worry about driving tonight.”
“That’s smart with all the crazies out tonight,” he said.
The crowd around them jostled Jenna, pushing them to and fro with the beat. Although they were moving at a much slower pace, it didn’t seem like anyone noticed. The song changed to a classic from the ’80s, but Cornelius didn’t change their pace. The absurdity of the situation struck her funny bone, and laughter flowed through her body.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
She gestured. “This. Us. Don’t you care that you’re not dancing to the song? Don’t get me wrong. It’s fun.”
“I’m dancing to your beat, my lady.”
At that moment, she knew he was going to kiss her. Everything around them faded away, and the music took a backseat to the sound of her pulse pounding in her ears. She watched his lips as he leaned in and she stretched up, waiting for that moment of touch. At the last moment, she licked her bottom lip and he was there.
Soft, gentle caresses, he moved his mouth over hers, giving her time to get used to the feel before pressing more urgently. He entwined one hand through the back of her hair, holding her close, and his other hand dropped lower, cupping her ass.
One taste of his mouth, and she closed her eyes. Images of rich green fields and stormy clouds in the sky crashed through her mind. Where did they come from? She drank in the sweetness of his kiss, and the desire for more spiked.
She moaned against his mouth and—lord—was she grinding against his cock in a public place?
Pulling back, she put on the brakes. “Whoa partner. No matter how good that feels, I’d like to talk and get to know you a little bit better.”
With another addicting smile, he brushed the side of her face. “I like your lucky charms.”
“Say what?” Was he trying to distract her or something?
“Your green sparkly four-leaf clovers on your face.” He played finger-hopscotch across the face gems she’d placed next to her eye. How could she have forgotten? “Were you hoping they’d bring you good luck?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
Chapter Two
Cornelius was cursed. He had one night per year – this one, St. Patrick’s Day, to convince a deserving woman of his true identity and his potential love in order to find his ultimate happiness. Too bad, the blasted she-devil who laid the whammy on him also blessed him with shocking green hair, and an even more shocking green … he shifted his cock aside, flashing back to year after year of the horror-filled eyes.
Not to mention his lack of ability for any type of conversational intelligence. Why did he have to run into Jenna tonight, of all nights? It’s not like she ever remembered him anyway. Part of the damn curse. It didn’t matter if he saw her on a day-to-day basis, he’d fade from her memory soon after she walked away, only to start anew the next time they met.
If he could break the curse, his life would totally change. It wasn’t even his fault. Passed down from generation to generation – the men in his family were destined to be unhappy in love. Not that his sister Katie had met her match. He never asked her if any of her private parts turned emerald on this day. He vowed tonight would be different. Let’s see what else the fates threw his way.
“Is that all you’re interested in? Rubbing up against me?” The fire of her red hair spread to her rosy cheeks and she placed her hands against his chest and pushed space between them.
“Me? I’d say you were doing plenty of rubbing there, yourself.”
“Pffft.” She turned her head away from him, but still he could see her biting her bottom lip. A fierce strike of desire burned through his chest. The one kiss did nothing to sate his thirst for her. He wanted more. He wanted to nibble on that pouty mouth.
For every move she took away, he pursued. He tightened his grip around her waist and spun, twirling her out in an elegant arc. Eyes wide, she threw her head back and laughed, and then whirl … he brought her back in close against his body.
Whenever he’d seen Jenna, she’d never shined like this moment, in his arms, with the multi-hued flashing lights from the disco ball throwing a glamorous sparkle over them both. Every touch pushed him further and further over the edge. If he’d admitted it, he’d been half in love with her for a while now. Maybe more.
Too bad he couldn’t tell her that. She’d never believe him. All he could hope for was her subconscious knew him, and that would help her overcome those feelings of she never hooked up with a guy on the first date.
He needed to push past her boundaries by showing how they connected, and making her feel, rather than telling.
Much easier said than done. And yet, the chemistry between them was undeniable.
“You look so serious all of a sudden,” she said. “What is it that you’re thinking about?”
“How you’d look naked underneath me.” Ugh. His mind recoiled the moment the words left his mouth. So cheesy. So corny. He was lucky she didn’t smack him across the face and walk away.
She stayed. His heart thumped. What made her stay?
“Two steps forward, and one step back,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t seem to get a
number on you. Which side of your personality is real?”
“Which do you want it to be?” Before he could utter another word, he took her lips, infusing in it every bit of pent-up frustration and months’ worth of longing looks. Like when she passed by him in the hallway and he caught the lightest trail of a citrus scent, like peeling off the skin on an orange and almost tasting that burst of zest.
Tentative at first, she grew more aggressive, taking as well as giving. He sucked on her tongue and she ran hers along his front teeth, and up into the sensitive gum line. He pushed passed the need to inhale and when they finally broke free, both of them gasped for air.
Leaning in, he buried his face within her hair and inhaled, capturing her essence.
“Did you just smell me?”
“You smell wonderful. It reminds me of a spring day, strolling through the lemon orchards. Fresh and alive.”
He stopped, afraid of what might come out next.
“Thank you.”
As the song started to wind down, Cornelius thought about his next move. If he had any chance of succeeding, he needed to convince her to leave with him. That meant risking sharing more about himself, within the parameters, and making Melanie feel comfortable enough, too, to let Jenna go. He didn’t need the girlfriend sidekick to ruin his buzz. Maybe he’d be fortunate enough that since she wasn’t his intended target, she’d remember him more.
For being Irish, his luck was running out.
Chapter Three
When they neared the bar, Melanie was gone. Jenna turned around, until she caught a glimpse of her friend, hand raised in the air. What a pal. Giving her room to explore the treats, but still keeping an eye on her.
“Over there,” she said. This time, she took Cornelius’s hand and brought him along.
Melanie sat on one side of a booth with a guy with dark hair that hung over his forehead. He looked like the typical bad boy musician she’d be attracted to. Not only had they scored a table, but Mel had brought their drinks over, too. Jenna slid in opposite, and Cornelius followed closely. Everywhere his body touched hers tingled.