Doctor Lucky Charms: A Holiday Romance (Kilts and Kisses)

by K. C. Crowne

  “A…crusty old bloke?”

  “That’s what I said. I mean, the man’s practically geriatric. Now, here’s what I’m thinking – I tell Mikey down at the bar to distract Ronan with a free shot of our best whiskey. Once he’s got one in him, it’ll be easy to get another, then another. He’ll be halfway to knackered and you and I can enjoy a lovely evening together under the moonlight. What do you say?”

  He raised his thick, red eyebrows expectantly.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “Shane!”

  Thankfully, Ronan’s voice filled the air. The kid -Shane- and I both turned to see Ronan standing over the table, his hands on his hips.

  “’Crusty old bloke’?” he asked.

  “What?” Shane said, his voice going up an octave. I could tell he was feeling in the hot seat, his previously confident posture melting away under Ronan’s steely glare. “Now, cousin, you know I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Now, get your scrawny arse out of my chair before I pick you up by your ankle and pitch you into the sea.”

  Shane sighed, pushing himself back from the table and getting up.

  “Fine, fine. Anyway, Kerry will be right with the two of you. Enjoy.” But before he left, Shane leaned in and flashed me another smile. “Now, if you change your mind, I’ll be downstairs waiting. I’d love to see you again.”

  “Out!” Ronan growled.

  Shane shot up like his bare butt had just been whipped by a towel. With another word, he scurried off and vanished down the stairs, replaced a moment later by a pretty young woman with short, blonde hair. I could tell by her uniform of a white blouse and black skirt, along with a black apron around her waist, that she was our server.

  “Sorry about the brat,” Ronan said. “That’s my cousin, Shane, if you hadn’t figured it out yet.”

  “I couldn’t help but notice the family resemblance.”

  Ronan chuckled. “Yeah, the genes are pretty strong on the O’Neill side. And most of the men are shameless flirts.”

  I smiled, leaning in. “He looks like you, he’s forward like you – but he’s younger. Hey, maybe I should trade you in for the younger model.”

  Ronan grinned. “Be my guest, darling. You can head out of here with him and spend the rest of the evening drinking cheap whiskey, maybe hitting up McDonald’s afterward. You might have to pay your way, though.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright, alright – I’ll stick with you. But that’s only one cousin you’ve wooed me over. How about the other three?”

  “They’re all downstairs slinging beers and shots. Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll be darkening our door, so to speak, before too long.”

  “Good evening!” the waitress said, the smile on her face as she approached the table making her look even prettier than she already was. “How’re we doing, Ro?”

  “We’re doing just fine, Kelly. Good to see you. How’s the old man doing?”

  “Oh, fine, fine. Hip’s still killing him from when he took that tumble.”

  “Aye, Patrick. Is he doing the exercises that I sent over to him?”

  Kelly laughed. “Please, you know the only exercise he’s doing is reaching across the table for the remote.”

  He shook his head. “Tell him that unless he wants to have the hip of a ninety-year-old, he needs to get his stubborn arse off that couch of his and get moving around every now and then.”

  “I’ll pass it along. But you know how he is. Anyway, what can I get for you two?”

  “Mind if I order some drinks?” he asked. “Don’t want to step on your toes, but I know the menu through and through.”

  “Be my guest.” I was majorly pleased that he asked before ordering for me. Way, way too many times had I been on dates with guys who thought it was “alpha” or whatever to take charge and tell me what I wanted to have. That never went over well with a woman like me.

  “Two of the Irish ales,” he said. “And a pair of shots of Luke’s private stash.”

  She smiled. “You got it, handsome.”

  “Thanks, dear.”

  With that, she was off.

  “You’re going to love the beer here. And the whiskey will make put hair on your chest like nothing else.”

  I grinned and leaned forward. “Then I hope hairy-chested women are something you’re into.”

  He laughed, shaking his head in amusement, then the two of us turned our attention to the water, the waves coming up onto the shore in soft crashes of white froth.

  “This was a great pick,” I said. “Perfect place for a night out.”

  “My cousins can be wildmen, but they know how to run a bar. I’ve been coming here since I was old enough to drink.”

  “Which is younger than the States, right?” I asked.

  He gave a crisp nod. “You’re damn right about that. None of this ‘waiting until twenty-one’ business you yanks are all about. Hell, I’ve been sipping me grandda’s beer since I was a teenager. Having a taste for the stuff is part of being Irish.”

  Before the conversation could go on, Kelly returned with two tall mugs of dark beer, along with a couple of shots of delicious-looking whiskey.

  “Now, for the main courses?” she asked.

  Ronan turned his gorgeous eyes to me. “Normally, I wouldn’t do this, but do you want me to pick a few things out? Irish pub food is a wee different than the burgers and chips they do over on your side of the pond.”

  I scanned the menu, trying to find something familiar. There was stew and shepherd’s pie, but other than that the words might as well have been written in a foreign language.

  “A coddle?” I asked, scrunching up my face and glancing toward Ronan. “What’s that?”

  He grinned. “Well, that means we’re having some of that.”

  “Perfect,” Kelly replied, jotting it down. “Ciara’s trying out a little something new with the recipe – I think you’ll like it.”

  “You pick the rest,” I said. “I trust you.”

  With another smile, he turned to the menu and went on.

  “Alright. We’ll do the braised rabbit pie…and how about a corned beef sandwich with a side of chips – a little bit of everything Irish for the American lass.”

  “Got it,” she said. “Enjoy your drinks, yeah?”

  “Cheers,” Ronan said, raising his glass of whiskey. But he didn’t take a sip. Instead, he nodded toward my whiskey. “Now, let’s do a proper Irish toast, yeah?”

  “Perfect.” I picked up my little glass of whiskey and raised it into the air. “Slainte.”

  He looked pleased by my knowledge of a proper Irish toast.

  “To new friends,” I added. He nodded approvingly. “To new friends.”

  When we tapped the glasses and drank, all I could think about was how much I wanted to be way more than friends with the charming Irishman.

  The idea nearly scared me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been as drawn to a man as I’d been to him. As I tilted the whiskey back for a drink, I made a mental note to be on guard, not to get too drawn into his charms.

  It was going to be hard, but I needed to guard my heart.

  They whiskey was delicious – and that was coming from a girl who wasn’t much into hard liquor. It was caramel-y and just a little bit sweet enough to take the edge off as it went down.

  “How was it?” he asked.

  “Nice and warm in my belly.”

  “Just like good whiskey should be.”

  I followed this up with a sip from my beer, the drink rich and robust. I couldn’t help but let out a satisfied ahh when it went down the hatch. We watched the water a little more as we sipped, Kelly returning to drop off a small basket of Irish soda bread and butter made at a nearby farm. Everything I’d eaten there tasted so fresh that I couldn’t get over it.

  “So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Can’t help but wonder what your plans are.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant. �
�My plans?”

  “Your plans – for here, for Ireland. You’re in the country, staying at a gorgeous house on a beautiful spot of land. Can’t help but wonder if you’re planning on making the place home.”

  I shifted in my seat, not sure how to reply.

  “That’s a hard question. If you would’ve asked me before I’d come, back when I was still in Denver, I would’ve told you no way – I’ve got a job and an apartment and a life. I couldn’t just drop all of that and move to a country that I’d only spent a total of maybe six months in over the course of my whole life.”

  “But…” He smirked, understanding that there was more.

  “But…since coming here…I don’t know. Going around town, living in that house, it feels like home in a way that I haven’t known in a long, long time.”

  “That’s the magic of Ireland,” he said. “You’re not some tourist, Joann. You’re from here. Your name’s McAllister, your grandma was a fixture in this town, and being here just feels right to you. It’s not strange at all – it’s the old country calling you back.”

  I sighed. He was saying what I’d deep-down suspected.

  “But,” I said, raising a finger. “I have to remind myself of the reason I came here. I’m not here to reconnect with my roots or anything like that. I’m here to find out what to do with my grandma’s house.”

  “And what are you planning on doing with it?”

  “I don’t know. At first I thought maybe we’d sell it. It’s nice to have, to know that my sister and I own a part of our past, a part of our home country. But it’s just not realistic to hold onto it. We’re both in Denver, and she’s got a whole life there. She’s got a husband and kids and a career, and while…well, I don’t have a husband or kids, I do have my job at the DA’s office. It’s something, enough to not think I can just start fresh somewhere else on a whim.”

  I sighed, shaking my head as I sipped my beer once more.

  “Sorry, I’m dumping a ton on you for first date. Just that I’ve had a lot on my mind since coming here. Not least of which is that, not even a week here, and I’m already on a date with a handsome Irishman.”

  “Now you’re speaking my language,” he said. “But don’t apologize for venting a bit. I didn’t bring you out to make you feel like you needed to hide what’s going on in your life from me.”

  “Thanks. Really. But I’ll try to not talk your ear off.”

  He sat back, the beer held in front of his chest. “I can’t help but wonder – have you changed your mind about selling even if you don’t stay?”

  “I honestly don’t know anymore. I do have a potential buyer though and whoever it is won’t even meet with me in person. So, there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to sell to him. Or her. Or them.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “And why’s that?”

  “Because I’ve got no idea what they’re planning on doing with the place. For all I know they could be planning on tearing the house down and putting up some godawful condo building. I just couldn’t bear that.”

  He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, as if really considering something. Then he took a sip of his glass, setting it down after.

  “What if if I told you I could arrange a meeting with the person who wants to buy?”

  “Huh? What do you mean? You know them?”

  “I more than know them, Joann. I am them.”

  My mouth dropped open. I had no idea what to say or do. Part of me wondered if he was screwing with me, b the more I regarded his expression, the more certain I was that he wasn’t.

  He was telling the truth.

  “You’re kidding,” I said. “You’re the one who wants to buy my family home?”

  “That’s me. Well, my brothers and me.”

  My mind raced, so many questions coming all at once.

  The first one, the worst one, was a question I knew I needed to ask.

  “Is that what this is all about?” I waved my hand toward the table. “This date? Are you trying to sweet talk me into selling?”

  “No-no-no,” he said, shaking his head. “Not at all. I’ve wanted to ask you out from the moment I laid eyes on you. Or, from the moment I nearly ran you over with my car. Whichever. Point is, I’ve wanted to ask you out from before I knew that you lived in the house.”

  I pursed my lips, not sure of what to say.

  “Just so you know, I’m a lawyer. That means I’m damn good at figuring out when people are lying to me. So, if this is all part of some trick to get me to sign the dotted line, I’ll find out and you might as well kiss that house goodbye.”

  “I promise,” he said. “Believe me, I’m not the lying sort. Never had patience for those types.”

  He seemed sincere, but I still kept my guard up – I needed to play this smart.

  “What do you even want to do with the place?” I asked. “Don’t tell me you want to tear it down. Because if so, you might as well retract the offer now while we’re sipping our beers.”

  He shook his head. “No – never in a million years would I want to tear that place down.”

  His answer relieved and confused me all at the same time.

  “You wouldn’t? Why not? What’s so special about that place to you?”

  Ronan tapped his fingers on the table, his brow knitted. I could sense he didn’t quite know where to begin.

  “That place…it’s a home. It’s gorgeous, cozy, inviting. And the property it’s on is just stunning. That’s what I love about it. On top of it all, it’s right across from the clinic.”

  “So, you’re planning on moving in?”

  “No. What I want to do with the place is use it for a shelter. You see, in my line of work I encounter many, many women who are in bad places in their lives. Rough relationships, or women who’ve gotten pregnant by men who left the scene as soon as they found out they were going to be fathers.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  He nodded. “But it’s part of my world. I give them care as best I can, but it’s not enough. Many of these women are scared, have no place to go.”

  I said nothing, letting him go on.

  “What I was planning with the property was to make it a shelter of sorts, a safe place for women, especially pregnant women, trying to go to get themselves sorted out, to stay and catch their breath while they work through a madly difficult period in their lives. Imagine being a single, pregnant woman. You could stay there, enjoy the fresh air, think about your next step. And all the while you’d have access to our car right across the way.”

  I loved the idea, and I loved the look in his eyes he got when he talked about it. There was something special about Ronan, something I liked more as I got to know him better.

  “Little problem there,” I said. “The house isn’t that big – three bedrooms and that’s it.”

  “I wanted to do some expansions. I’d leave the house alone, maybe update some appliances and such. But on the rest of the property, I wanted to build a few additions – homes done in the same style as the original building.”

  “So, more cottages?”

  “More cottages. I’m thinking I can add a couple more small structures to the property, enough to give space to the women there while also retaining the quiet of it all. Ten women could be there at a time, along with their newborns, while they look for a more permanent place to stay. They’d have access to gardens and the woods behind for solace and quiet. It’s my dream, really.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Ronan had shown me side of him that I hadn’t been ready for, and he was humble about it. No messiah complex, no desire to be patted on the back. Nothing but a real urge to do some good in the world.

  However much I was attracted to him before, now it was on another level.

  If I wasn’t careful, I was going to be in deep shit.

  Chapter 19

  RONAN

  The food arrived and we didn’t waste any time ordering another round of beers then tearing into all the good stuff
spread before us.

  “OK,” she said, her eyes on the meals. “What’s the deal with coddle?”

  “It’s an old Irish thing,” I said as I tore off a piece of soda bread, eager to dunk it into the broth. “It’s basically sausage and potato stew. While it sounds simple, there’s really nothing quite like it. You know the weather here in Ireland?”

  “The cloudy days,” she said. “A chill in the air and a little mist, too?”

  “That’s right. That’s good Irish weather, and Irish food is meant for a climate like ours. That means our food is rich and hearty, the type of grub you want before you throw on sweater and step out into the chilly air.”

  “It sure as heck smells good.”

  “Then you’ve got the rabbit pie, nice flaky pastry with a thick sauce and rich meat. And I’m pretty sure you yanks know all about corned beef.”

  “I do indeed. My mother always made it on St. Patrick’s Day.”

  “Then dig in – it’s all best hot as it comes.”

  We went for it, the coddle mouthwatering and flavorful, the sausages cooked to perfection. The rabbit pie was sublime, the crust buttery and warm, the rabbit tangy and spiced. The corned beef sandwich was divine, made on fresh bread with seeded mustard made in-house. Nothing better.

  Joann and I said nothing to one another while we tucked in – the top sign of a fine meal. When ten minutes or so passed, plenty of the food gone and washed down with good beer, we turned to one another and sighed contentedly.

  “That amazing so far,” she said.

  “Glad to hear it’s up your alley.”

  “What’s not to like? Good food, good view, and good company.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” We tapped our glasses once more and sipped.

  When Joann put hers back down, she regarded me with an expression of skepticism.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Just wondering how a guy like you, humble and low-key in the best way possible, would be on a reality show.”

  Now, that was a shock. I’d had no idea she’d even known about the Tik Toks, let alone the show. How did she find that one out?