by Frankie Love
I don’t know where she’ll be staying, but I’ll knock on every door in Dublin tonight until I find my girl.
***
A bit later, with my pocket full, I walk into the pub and see that Patrick and Sean are already sitting on stools, drinking their beer. The streets are wild, grown men dressed as leprechauns and women with American accents pinching my ass.
It reminds me why I live in the mountains, as far from this scene as possible.
When Sean and Patrick see me, they look around exaggeratedly, shouting that they don’t see any woman by my side.
“We knew it couldn’t be done,” Patrick laughs. He slaps his knee as if this is the funniest thing he ever saw.
“Where did Clover go off to then?” Sean asks. “A few days ago, I thought you two were ready to ride off into the sunset. Told Patrick as much.”
“She found out about the bet,” I tell them.
“How’d that happen?” Sean asks.
“I told her myself. Couldn’t lie to her anymore.”
“Oh hell, brother, are you a fool? Did you want to lose?” Patrick laughs then orders a round and hands me a pint of Guinness.
I grab the ring from my pocket and hand it to Patrick.
“I lost fair and square. As much as I wanted to win, I learned there’s only one thing that matters. And it isn’t the land or the ring––it’s the girl. And I lost her because I’m a fucking fool.”
“So, take it Patrick, and don’t be like me. Go to Thailand or quit your job or whatever it is you need to do to be happy––but don’t walk around like a cocky fool like me, thinking your luck is going to get you everything you want. You might miss out on the best thing you never had.”
“Conor,” Patrick says, his eyes wide, never having heard me make such an honest confession in my life. He rests his hand on my shoulder, looking in my eyes. “Are you bullshitting me?”
“Not even a little,” I tell him. “I wish I’d never made the bet, it fucked everything up.”
“But you’ve wanted that land your whole life, brother.”
“What good is a piece of land if you have no one to share it with?”
“I don’t know,” Patrick says. “But if that’s truly how you feel, I can’t take this ring.”
“Just take it. I must go and find her. I’ve got to fight with every breath I’ve got.”
“Knowing you and your luck you’ll find her at the first place you look,” Sean says.
“And when you find her, she needs this ring; mam’s ring, Conor. Take it and give it to her.” Patrick presses the ring back in my hand.
I realize Patrick may be an asshole of a brother, but he’s still an Irishman. A man with integrity. A man with honor.
I clap my brother in a quick embrace. “I’ll see you around then, hopefully, sooner than later.”
Sean speaks up. “The truth is, I think we’re gonna be seeing you sooner than we thought.”
Before I can ask why someone is tapping on my shoulder.
I spin around and there she is.
Clover.
“What are you doing here, lassie?”
“I can’t have the man I love losing a bet because of me, now can I?”
“The man you love?” I ask, blinking back the tears in my eyes. Somewhere along the way, it seems I’ve become an emotional roller coaster––much like the woman I love.
Slipping away from my brother and Sean, I tell Clover the plain truth.
“The bet’s over. I don’t want the land if it means I won it like this. Won it by breaking your heart.”
“I don’t think my heart is that fragile,” she tells me.
“Back at my house, it seemed to be. You said I broke you, Clover.”
She shakes her head, her dark hair swishing around her shoulders and we’ve only been apart a few hours but it feels like a lifetime. I never want to be without her again.
“Right,” she says. “I did say that. But I may have been overreacting just a tad.”
“A tad?” I ask, realizing she isn’t running. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.
“After I got dropped off by that crazy woman, Hilde, I checked into a bed and breakfast, a terrible one at that, because everything was booked solid.” She smirks, inviting me back into her heart. “Apparently, Saint Patrick’s Day is a big deal here.”
“Really, you just figured that out?” I ask, crossing my arms, looking her over. Her curves are on display in the tight jeans she wears, the sweater hugging her tits in a way that makes my cock hard. Dammit, I could stare at her forever.
“And when I got there, I realized a few things. First of all,… you may have lied, but you weren’t trying to hurt me like my ex. You were an idiot sure, but I know you weren’t being cruel. When you say, you love me, I believe you.”
“Are you saying you don’t see things in black and white?” I ask her, my heart beating fast.
“No. I want all the colors, just like you taught me. I was looking in the sky to change my luck, but it was right in front of me.”
“You said you realized a few things. What else, lass?”
“When I sat down on that rickety old bed in the bed and breakfast,” she tells me. “All I could think was what was the point of having a bed if the person you love isn’t sharing it with you?”
“You love me then?” I ask. “Even if I never found you a rainbow?”
“Fuck rainbows, Conor. You’re all I want.”
“I’m hoping you might want one more thing,” I tell her, dropping to one knee. “I’m hoping you might want to be my bride.”
Clover covers her mouth, and the rowdy pub goes quiet. Patrick and Sean have pulled out their phones to commemorate the moment and the whole place is watching. Suddenly I’m nervous as fuck, but it’s probably good that I am. I never used to be nervous about a damn thing because I had nothing that was precious to me.
But now I do. Now I have Clover.
“What will it be, lassie?”
She bites her lip, and for a second I think she’s gonna say no.
“I have to confess something first.”
“What is it?” I ask. “My knee is killing me here.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t find me a rainbow, because the truth is, I never wanted to leave.”
I laugh, relieved at her confession, her telling me she wanted to stay as badly as I wanted her to.
“Good, now you never will, rainbows or not. You’re stuck with me, lassie.”
I pull my woman to my knee, sitting her down where she belongs and pull out my mam’s wedding ring.
“I’ll ask you again, but I’ll need a proper answer this time.” I look at her, the woman I love, the future mother of my children, the person I want to grow old with. “Will you marry me, Clover, and make me the luckiest Irishman to ever live?”
She smiles wide, throwing her head back the way she did the night I fell in love with her.
“Yes,” she tells me. “But I think you’ve got it wrong, Conor. I’m the lucky one.”
I shake my head, slipping the Claddagh ring on her finger, an emerald heart wearing a crown, centered between two hands. “Do you know what the ring means?” I ask.
She shakes her head no, her eyes brimming with tears, and when they fall, they shine on her cheeks. She looks like a cup of love, overflowing. “With this crown, I give you my loyalty. With these hands, I offer my service. With this heart, I give you mine.”
And then I kiss her, whispering to her all the naughty plans I have for the night.
Getting lucky is our duty after all.
And I will never fail her again.
Epilogue
One year later...
It was easy to fall for Conor. He accepted me for who I am, and he insisted my weaknesses were my strengths.
A year later, my Irish mountain man hasn’t wavered one iota. He’s become my bedrock, holding me up when my emotions toss me to and fro. He’s my anchor, but he’s also the boat, carrying me to safe and secure waters.
&
nbsp; And I’ve never needed that more than I do now.
“I still can’t believe she could come any moment. I’m not sure I’m ready, Conor,” I tell him as we stand on our porch overlooking our property. His old barn is in the distance––Sean lives there now, and we’re in the new cabin that we built shortly after our wedding ten months ago.
For our wedding present, Patrick, all sunburned and bright eyed––having recently returned from Thailand––gave us the land Conor had always dreamed of.
“I’m not staying anyway,” he’d told us at the small reception we held at the pub where we’d met. My parents had flown in, and a few friends on both sides were there, but it was intimate––Conor and I prefer to party all by ourselves.
“Where are you going?” Conor had asked his brother.
“I sold my stocks, cashed out my 401k, I’m traveling the world. Thailand wasn’t enough. So, take the land, make a home. Be happy.”
And we are.
Of course, finding out we were pregnant a few weeks into our marriage wasn’t a part of the plan––but we’d thrown plans out the window a long time ago.
Conor kisses me on the forehead now, the sun is high in the sky, and Conor has a picnic basket in hand, having a day off for once. He and Sean have been working hard at building up their tour company. I have too.
I took all my photographic skills and created new brochures, a website, a promo video depicting all the most beautiful stops on the tour of the Wicklow Mountains. It’s my part in helping them expand their business. It’s working, the company is booked solid and we’ve even had to buy a bus to replace the eight-passenger van.
“Where are we going?” I ask him. “You know I can’t walk far. Our daughter is determined to jam her foot in my rib cage every chance she gets.”
“Must be a feisty one, taking after her mam.”
“Funny,” I say, cocking a brow at him. “You packed plenty of food, right? Because I’m––”
“Getting hangry? Got it, lassie. I’ve been your husband for nearly a year now. I think I know how to pack you a lunch.” He smacks my ass, and I yelp, grabbing his hand and pulling a finger to my mouth. As I suck on it, he groans.
“Woman, you’re making me crazy.”
“Good,” I tell him. “That’s just where I like you.”
***
He’s spread a blanket out on the grass, and after eating our sandwiches and chips, Conor has fallen asleep with the sun shining down on his face.
Watching the rise and fall of his chest, I’m so turned on by the man who is my husband. He’s grown his beard out even more––something the space between my thighs is thoroughly grateful for––and I find him more handsome than ever. It’s like he’s relaxed over the year, and the onset of fatherhood has helped him take things more seriously.
Of course, his cocky attitude is still there at times, but my Irishman has mellowed out.
I’d like to think I have too. Except right now I don’t feel very mellow at all.
In fact, I feel all kinds of hot and bothered.
He must feel me staring at him because one eye opens, and he raises his head. “What are you lookin’ at, love?”
“You,” I say, lying beside him. “I was thinking how this might be one of our last days as a family of two. This girl is coming soon, I feel it.”
Conor rolls over, his hands on my massive belly, kissing my belly button that popped months ago. I’m wearing a short sundress and he lifts the hem, running his hands over my thighs, higher still. I feel his fingers brush against my pussy, and I let out the softest of moans, the fluttering of his fingers waking me at my core.
“Don’t tease me,” I tell him, arching my back, dropping my knees and inviting him in.
“Never.” He moves aside my panties and looks me in the eye. “I love you, Clover.”
“What do you love?”
“I love how wet you are, lying here, thinking about me.”
I bite my lip, sighing in pleasure as his fingers stroke me softly, drawing out the pleasure.
He pulls my panties off and unbuttons his pants, dropping them quickly. His massive cock causes my nipples to harden, my desire mounting. With one hand, he strokes himself in the fresh mountain air, and since we own this piece of land, he has nothing to hide, no inhibitions.
I watch as he runs his hand over his velvety length, his other hand pressing inside of me.
“I don’t want your fingers, I want you,” I tell him. “I can’t bear it any longer.”
“Anything you want.”
I laugh. “I have a feeling this is what you want too,” I say, smacking him. I lift my legs, slightly bending them as Conor kneels before me. He takes hold of my thighs, pressing his cock deep inside me.
My pregnant belly is between us, but our eyes are on one another.
He thrusts inside of me and I ask for more, never having enough––especially during my pregnancy. As soon as I passed the morning sickness, I turned into a sex fiend.
Conor hasn’t seemed to mind one bit.
“Oh, oh, yes,” I pant, wanting him to come in me because every time he does my heart blossoms with love for him.
“I’m so close,” he says, pressing himself into me, holding my thighs, my feet in the air as he comes in me, ribbons of his seed in my pussy just the way I wanted it. “I love you, Clover, and I could stay like this forever,” he tells me.
He lies by my side, taking my hands, our legs entwined, our bodies wrapped close together.
“I love you too, Conor, but I can’t stay this way forever,” I tell him.
“Please,” he begs playfully.
“No, in fact, we’ve got to go right now.”
“What is it?” he asks, leaning up on his elbows as I start laughing, not surprised that it happened after a romp in the woods.
“My water just broke, Conor. It’s time to meet our little girl.”
Conor stands, pulling up his pants, reaching for my hand. As I do, he turns my head, his hand on my cheek.
“Look, lassie,” he says, pointing to the sky where a color-drenched crescent rises high above us. “It’s our rainbow.”
I blink back happy tears. Of course, there is a rainbow here, now. Conor always sees them when he’s traipsing around the mountainside on his tours, and he points them out to me whenever I’m with them.
He swears he sees them now more than ever.
He jokes that I’m his lucky charm.
The truth is, somewhere along the way our life became a pot of gold... we found ourselves rich beyond our wildest dreams because we had each other.
***
The labor is awful. Good luck be damned because when it comes to pushing a person out of your vagina, it’s pure hell no matter how you try to spin it.
But like so many women before me, after the birth, I forgot the pain, because the moment I saw my baby, all I could feel was pure bliss.
“She’s perfect,” Conor says, nuzzling our daughter in his arms, wrapped in a pink blanket.
The nurse who helped deliver her pats Conor’s arm. “She’s healthy too, and couldn’t have been more ready to enter the world. That was the swiftest delivery I’ve seen in a long time. You were lucky, Clover.”
Conor’s eyes meet mine, and we share a silent laugh. My Irish mountain man knows me so well, and I know him.
“What are you naming the wee one?” the nurse asks, checking my vitals and making notes on a chart.
“Rainbow,” I tell her.
Conor hands her to me, sitting on the edge of the bed. I take hold of my daughter, knowing her life may be complicated, not seem fair, and often a cruel joke.
I can’t protect her from self-doubt and denial, things all of us inevitably face one way or another––but I can make sure she knows her father and I think we’re the luckiest people in the world to have her.
And I think that might be enough.
In fact, I think that might be everything.
Also by Frankie Love
> THE ENTIRE FRANKIE LOVE COLLECTION:
The Mountain Man’s Babies:
TIMBER
BUCKED
WILDER
The Modern-Mail Order Brides:
CLAIMED BY THE MOUNTAIN MAN
ORDERED BY THE MOUNTAIN MAN
WIFED BY THE MOUNTAIN MAN
An Arranged Marriage Romance:
COURTED BY THE MOUNTAIN PRINCE
CHARMED BY THE MOUNTAIN PRINCE
CROWNED BY THE MOUNTAIN PRINCE
Las Vegas Bad Boys:
ACE
KING
MCQUEEN
JACK
Los Angeles Bad Boys:
COLD HARD CASH
HOLLYWOOD HOLDEN
SAINT JUDE
THE COMPLETE COLLECTION
Stand-Alone Romance:
KINKY RESOLUTIONS
WILD AND TRUE
Stand-Alone Bad Boy:
BIG BAD WOLF
Stand-Alone Mountain Men:
MISTLETOE MOUNTAIN: A MOUNTAIN MAN’S CHRISTMAS
HEART OF GOLD: A MOUNTAIN MAN’S VALENTINE
❤️❤️❤️
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About the Author
Frankie Love writes sexy stories about bad boys and mountain men. As a thirty-something mom to six who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters. She also believes in the power of a quickie.
Find Frankie here:
Frankie Love
www.frankielove.net
[email protected]
KINKY RESOLUTIONS
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KINKY RESOLUTIONS
17
Chapter 1
This is so typical. So freaking typical.