Irish Affair

by Heartley, Amanda

  Finally, Siobhan stumbles out from the bathroom, shoes on, and ready for the evening.

  “I guess we’re good to go, then,” I say with a wide smile.

  * * *

  I figured a safe bet for dinner would be a pub, and it seems my choice was a good one. I’m happy Amelia seems to be enjoying herself, though that might just be because she’s having a night off from being a mum. Rory and Ben are hanging out together, babysitting little Ava for the night, which would have been hilarious to sit in on.

  I wait, impatiently, until everyone has finished their meals before I stand up and get their attention. Six pairs of eyes turn to stare at me. I smile, keen to get this party started.

  “Okay,” I say with a grin. “Is everyone ready for the real fun to begin?”

  “Kayla,” Amelia says, narrowing her eyes at me. “What does that mean? What have you done?”

  I smile innocently. “What? Oh, I’ve done nothing, aside from arranging the best night of your life. You can thank me later,” I add. “Now, if we can all head back to the room, you’ll find out exactly what I mean.”

  Amelia groans, but gets to her feet and follows the rest of us back to the hotel.

  * * *

  When we get back to the room, I put on some music, not too loud, and pour champagne into some glasses. We dance around, joking and laughing as we loosen up. I’m shocked at how much noise such a small group of women can make, and as I glance at my phone again, I frown. The stripper was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago.

  Amelia walks over to me, with maybe one drink too many under her belt already.

  “I owe you an apology,” she says. She hiccups then giggles at herself. “This is fun, Kayla. I thought for sure you’d do something annoying and stupid, like hire a stripper.”

  I smile uneasily. “Don’t mention it,” I say, glancing at my phone again. “I’m just glad you’re having a good time.”

  Siobhan smiles at me. I throw her a look and peek outside, just in case my hot cop is waiting out there. I’m confident Amelia will appreciate him when she gets into it.

  “Regretting your little stunt yet?” Siobhan asks me, raising her eyebrows.

  “No way. She’s had a few drinks and loosened up. I’m sure she’ll love it,” I argue, still standing by my decision. “Speaking of which, should Amelia be drinking? Isn’t she breastfeeding?”

  “Ever heard of the art of expressing milk?” Siobhan replies with a wink. “So, are you sure you didn’t tell the entertainment to meet you downstairs or something?” she asks.

  “Entertainment? What entertainment, Siobhan?”

  We both spin around to see Amelia standing behind us. She glares at Siobhan, who simply shrugs and points at me.

  “I tried to stop her. I told her what you said,” she protests.

  “I’d better go downstairs and find him,” I grumble. I walk out of the room, leaving Siobhan to deal with an annoyed Amelia and head downstairs in search of my stripper. I’m sure I told him to meet me at the room, but maybe I did get mixed up. As I step out of the elevator, I scroll through my messages, looking for confirmation of what the hell I said. I walk out into the foyer and look around, sighing with relief when I see him standing six feet away by the reception desk.

  Holy shite, he’s even hotter in person.

  My heart races as I walk over to him. He’s cute and definitely worth the wait. I tap him on the back. He spins around and looks at me with a shocked expression while I try not to focus on the size of his package.

  “Can I help you?” he asks.

  “Yes. Sorry, I thought we were meeting in my room,” I say, feeling flustered, “but, maybe I said to meet you here? Anyway, let’s go.”

  I try, unsuccessfully, to keep the irritation out of my voice. I glance at my phone, aware that time is passing and I’m paying for every minute. I take him by the arm and yank him into the elevator, then press the button for the seventh floor.

  I’ve paid for a stripper, so that’s what he’s going to do.

  Chapter Three

  Conor

  “Um, where are you taking me?” I say to the blonde pocket rocket as she drags me into the elevator. She looks familiar, and I’m wracking my brain trying to place where I might have seen her, but I don’t have much time to think before she starts on me again.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” she says, impatiently. She glares at me, like I’m responsible for holding up her night. “I’m sorry, but we’re already fifteen minutes into my two hours,” she adds, frowning at me.

  Fifteen minutes into two hours of what?

  I stare at her, amused. This could be fun. I’m not exactly sure what’s happening, but I’ll go with it. I’m not even supposed to be working tonight, but someone else called in sick, and it’s my duty as a cop to make sure there’s no criminal activity going on in her room, right? Besides, this girl is hot.

  We get off on the seventh floor and I don’t even have the chance to ask any questions before she guides me down the hall until she stops outside a room. I lean against the wall, amused as I watch her open the door. She either thinks I’m a stripper or an escort. I’m not sure which yet.

  I plan on telling her the truth, but I’ll wait until we’re inside. She pushes open the door, walks in, and I follow behind her. I stare at her arse in that tight, black dress, my mind going to places it probably shouldn’t. The next thing I know, I look around to see I’m surrounded by women, all grabbing at me. I laugh and put my hands up, trying to get the attention of the blonde who dragged me into this mess, to let her know I’m not the person she was expecting.

  “Hey! Hold on there, girls,” I call out, still with my hands up.

  “More stripping, less talk,” one of the women demands, grabbing at my shirt.

  “Stripping? There’ll be none of that from me tonight, ladies. I’m on duty,” I say, laughing as I lunge for the door. Escaping out of there before they tear the clothes off me seems to be my only option. I get back out into the hallway, and laugh again at what just happened, shaking my head in disbelief as I walk back toward the elevator.

  Holy shit, what the fuck was that all about?

  I look over my shoulder as the blonde walks out of the room and follows me, strutting on her heels at full-speed, like she’s on a mission. She catches up to me as I turn the corner and press the elevator call button. She tugs roughly at my arm, and I turn around to find her glaring at me, her hand perched on her hip.

  “Where the hell are you going?” she says, narrowing her eyes at me. “Is this like your first job, or something? Hmm? Nerves get the better of you? Maybe you need a few more practice runs, but for now, get back in there and get your bloody clothes off,” she commands, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

  “Excuse me?” I sputter, not sure how else to respond to that. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” I say. Is it wrong that I’m looking forward to telling her the truth?

  “Oh, so now you’re having an identity crisis, are ya?” she says, shaking her head. “Well, you can deal with it on your own time.” She reaches forward, grabbing my handcuffs from their pouch, and I watch in disbelief as she wraps one around my wrist and locks the other around hers. I look up, my eyes wide and she smirks at me. “Looks like you’re stuck with me now.”

  “What the hell are you doing?” I ask, frowning as I fumble in my pocket for the key. No sooner do I find it and move my hand to unlock the cuffs, she snatches it from between my finger and thumb, crouches down and holds it over the gap between the elevator and the doors.

  “No, don’t!” I shout, but it’s too late. My heart drops and I just roll my eyes as I hear it clattering off who knows what on its way down to the bottom of the elevator shaft.

  “Are you insane, lass?” I growl at her.

  “I guess I am. Now, will you get back in there and strip, or do whatever it is I’m paying you for? Come on,” she says, and all I can do is protest as she half-drags me back down the hallway toward her
room.

  I’m just staring at her incredulously the whole time, wondering who she is, and what the fuck just happened. I’ve never met anyone so hard to get through to. She walks into the room, yanking me inside behind her. I’m expecting another mauling as soon as I get inside, but I’m surprised to find the space is now completely empty and quiet. I turn to her and smile, and she frowns back at me.

  “Where the hell did everyone go?” she mumbles, her brow creased.

  “They must have gone the other way,” I say, my amazing detective skills in full flow. I point the opposite way down the hallway from where we’d come, and she looks at me, seemingly bewildered by my explanation. “There are elevators at both ends of the building. They didn’t pass us, so they must have gone that way.”

  “But, why would they leave without me? And, the elevator we were at is the closest to this room,” she says, as if my explanation doesn’t make sense to her. “Why didn’t they take that one, especially as they must have heard us talking?” She pauses and then smiles, as if she just had a lightbulb moment. “Ah, right. I get it. You’re in on this aren’t you? They all sneaked out to play a trick on me. Hide from Kayla. Leave her with the hot male stripper.” she says, smiling, “Ha-de-ha-ha, bitches. Well, I’m up for the craic, but I’ll catch up to them later. They’ll be sorry.”

  “Um, no, but did you say they heard us talking? They would have heard you yelling at me, you mean?” I point out.

  She narrows her eyes and frowns at me. “Oh, I see. So, you’re turning this all around to be my fault now, are ya?” she asks, then looks down at the cuffs binding us and rubs her wrist. “Okay, so cuffing us together might not have been my smartest idea, so can you please just open these now?” she asks.

  “Oh, you do have some manners,” I tease. She glares at me. She looks so sexy when she does that. I laugh. “I’d love to open them, but someone dropped the key down the elevator shaft and I don’t have a spare with me. There’s one back at the station, though,” I explain.

  She looks at me, smiles and rolls her eyes. “Okay, you played the part well, but you can drop the cop act now. The party’s over, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “Act?” I say, laughing. “I’m not acting. I really am a policeman.” I revel in the moment, watching her jaw drop, and her eyes widen as the penny finally drops.

  “You so are not a guard,” she retorts, her eyes piercing into mine, searching for something that might give the game away that I’m lying. “Are you?” I just look at her, grinning. “Shit, no! Oh, for the love of Mary, this is turning out to be a fine night, so it is,” she says, shaking her head.

  “Yes, I am, and now, we’re going to have to go to the police station, so we can get these bloody cuffs off and I can get back to work.”

  * * *

  She grabs my hand tightly as we walked through the hotel foyer, clearly mortified, and trying to hide the fact that she’s handcuffed to a policeman. I don’t mind at all. It feels good having her warm, soft skin against mine and my cock stiffens in my pants at her touch. It’s been a while since a beautiful, sexy woman like her has done that, but now it’s time for a little fun. I just can’t resist the opportunity, and without warning her, I raise my arm cuffed to hers for all to see and wave at the hotel manager I’d been speaking to before I got dragged upstairs.

  “Don’t worry, Michael. I’ve got her. You’ll have no more trouble here tonight,” I say with a smile. “Go back to your drinks, folks. Nothing to see here. You’ll be quite safe now.”

  Michael laughs and gives me a double thumbs-up as Kayla’s head snaps around to stare up at me. Her mouth opens wide for a split second, shocked at what I just said. She yanks my arm back down in a flash, raising her free hand to cover her ever-reddening face, then slaps me hard on the chest before trying to hide her embarrassment again.

  “Holy Mother of God! I cannot believe you just did that, you eejit,” she mumbles through gritted teeth as she quickly pushes us both toward the exit door and outside into the evening air.

  I’m still laughing as we walk across the car park. After listening to her muttering to herself the whole time as we walk down to the street, we finally reach my patrol car. She looks at it, then glares at me, her hand covering her mouth as she realizes the truth.

  “I was really hoping this was all a prank, but you weren’t joking. You really are a cop?” she asks. I shrug as I open the door with a smirk on my face.

  “Of course I wasn’t joking,” I say.

  “You should have said something earlier,” she frowns.

  “I did, but you were having none of it,” I say, chuckling as I motion for her to get in the driver’s door of the car.

  “What? You want me to climb over?” she asks, looking alarmed.

  I nod and smile at her. “You cuffed us, remember? You’re going to have to climb over to the passenger seat, so I can drive.”

  She frowns, then nods when she realizes I’m right, and although I know I should look away, I can’t keep my eyes off her sexy arse and long legs as she straddles the center console then wiggles her way over to the other side and into the seat. I climb in at the same time, trying not to laugh my arse off at what this must look like to anyone watching us. It must look hilarious. It’s a good job she hadn’t cuffed our other arms or driving would have been impossible. I don’t think she’s in any fit state to drive, at least, if her playful attitude is anything to go by.

  Or maybe she’s always this friendly?

  The entire drive back to the police station, she’s quiet, preferring to stare out the window than to talk to me. I’m not sure if she’s worried about me being a cop, or if she’s just embarrassed. I probably could arrest her for being disorderly or something, if I wanted to be an arse, but I’m kind of amused by it all. If anything, it’s given me a funny story to tell the other guys when we meet at the bar next week. Not that any of them will believe that this happened.

  We walk into the rural police station, just outside the city limits. She looks around, visibly relieved there’s nobody else here. I rummage through the top drawer of my desk until I find the key, then I hold it up with a smile. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if it wasn’t there. Used a saw, maybe? I unlock the cuffs and slip them over our hands. She sighs with relief and rubs her wrists then smiles up at me.

  “Thanks,” she says sheepishly. “I’m sorry about all of this. It’s probably the last thing you needed happening on your shift.”

  “It’s fine,” I say.

  I turn to put the cuffs back in my belt pouch. When I turn back to her, she’s picking up all my things.

  “What are you, four years old?” I mutter with a laugh. I shake my head and snatch a photo out of her hands.

  “Hold on,” she says, frowning at me.

  She snatches the photo back and studies it, her eyes widening. She laughs and mutters something to herself, then looks from the photo, to me. I stare at her like she’s crazy, because I have no idea what’s going on.

  “Conor?” she gasps. “I know you. I think you used to pee on our lawn,” she adds with a giggle.

  “Is that, uh, a euphemism for something?” I ask her with a frown.

  She laughs and hands me my photo back.

  “No. Oh my God, I can’t believe you don’t recognize me. It’s Kayla. Kayla Devlin.”

  I nearly drop the photo of me and my grandfather, taken when I was twelve. It was the last photo taken of him before he died, so it means a lot to me. It was also around the age I was when Kayla last saw me.

  “Kayla?” I gasp. “Holy shite, how have you been?” I ask. I shake my head, because now I know it’s her, I can see she hasn’t changed at all.

  “Good,” she says. “This is crazy. I haven’t seen you in what, ten years?”

  “Close to that,” I say with a grin. “I’m pretty impressed that you recognized me, even from this photo,” I say, nodding at the picture of me with my dad, taken in Paris about five years ago. She nods. “Now that I look a
t you, I can see it even more,” she says, her eyes shining. “You’ve got that same smirk and cheeky look about you.”

  “I could say the same about you,” I murmur. “Hey, I can give you a lift back to your hotel if you like?” I add, though part of me doesn’t want to see her go just yet.

  She smiles. “Or I can drive around with you?” she says shyly.

  “Sure,” I shrug. I’m sure that’s against a few of the rules, but what the hell. “I have to do some patrolling, but you’re welcome to join me?”

  “Okay,” she says, nodding.

  She follows me back out to my car and gets in—this time using her own door. It’s a quiet night, so we cruise through the streets, and talk. The fact that we used to know each other has completely changed the dynamics of our relationship. She’s so chatty and open now, compared to half an hour ago. I ask her about her family, noting the way her eyes light up at the mention of her sister and the way that crease appears in her forehead when she talks about her parents. Then she asks about mine.

  “There’s not much to tell. I’m an only child,” I remind her. “Dad still lives in London, and Mum here.”

  “That’s right,” she says slowly. “That must’ve been hard as a kid, deciding which one to live with.”

  “The choice was never given to me, so I just went with it,” I say with a shrug. “I spent a few years with Dad then moved back with Mum. I get on well with both, so I guess something worked.”

  We talk about where our lives have taken us over the last few years. There are times she’s hesitant to open up to me, but then she moves the conversation in a new direction and there’s no stopping her. Before I know it, we’ve been driving for an hour. I glance at her.

  “Hey, it shouldn’t be too hard to try and find your friends, if you like?” I say. I’m loving her company, but mindful that she was on what looked like a bachelorette night. She waves her hand and shakes her head.

  “It’s fine. I’m actually having fun just driving around with you, if that’s okay?” she says shyly. “Besides, the bride wasn’t exactly into the night.”