An Irish Affair (Heart 0f Hope Book 2)
Page 22
My dick jerked to full mast. “Jesus, woman.” I pressed it against her backside.
She turned her head and smiled. “At least one part of you likes that idea.”
I’d never put much stock in what commitment could do for me, but I discovered that going to bed and waking up with Serena by my side was like a dream come true. Andrew was the cherry on top, finishing off this wonderfully sweet life. It had been less than a week, and yet, I knew without a doubt, it would be like this for the rest of my life.
The only cloud hanging over us was the St. Patrick’s Day party at the Roarke and what my mother might do. Serena had opted to stay away from the Roarke the rest of the week to avoid a run in. I couldn’t blame her and yet I didn’t want my life to be spent on eggshells around my mother.
“You can’t avoid her forever,” I said as I put on my suit for the St. Patrick’s Day event. I wore a black suit with a green tie.
“I can try. I don’t know why I have to go. Nikita excused me from the event.”
“She excused you so you could be my date. Andrew and your parents are coming too. My father and sister have promised me they’ll contain her.”
She quirked a disbelieving brow at me. I couldn’t blame her. Even with my sister and father, I wasn’t sure my mother was containable. Of course, I’d threatened to expose her heinous attempt to keep me from knowing my son if she messed this evening up for me. She wouldn’t behave for her family, but she might to protect her reputation.
Serena was complaining, but she dressed for the event. When she emerged wearing the emerald green dress that accentuated all her luscious curves, I nearly acquiesced the request to skip the event in favor of taking her out of the dress.
Her expression suggested she knew what I was thinking. “The lingerie is green lace.”
“You don’t play fair,” I said, tugging her to me.
“All’s fair in love and war.”
“Did you know there’s a secret powder room in the Roarke? I might have to show it to you.”
She grinned. “Is that all you’ll show me?”
I kissed her hard to let her know I’d show her whatever she wanted.
Thirty minutes later, Serena, Andrew, and I were up in the Roarke. We were lucky that night was crisp and clear, giving a beautiful view of the city lights from the restaurant.
“Is this the fancy place?” Andrew asked as we entered the restaurant.
“It is.” I felt like the luckiest man alive as I held my son’s hand, and had my other arm around Serena.
“There’s the family of the hour,” Nikita said approaching us.
“Your mother is already here. Your father and sister have her in the lounge. She’s upset at the menu. She also thinks silver would have been better with green decor instead of gold—”
“Gold is at the end of the rainbow, not silver,” I quipped.
“I know. She’s grumbling a bit about appearances and living in sin. I suspect that’s about you two.”
“So, what you’re saying is that my mother is acting her usual self,” I said.
“Yes. That’s what I’m saying.” Nikita smiled. “By the way, the Irish mutton stew is a hit. It’s possible we’ll run out. Oh, and Rena, your parents are here too. They’re out on the terrace. We’re lucky that it’s unseasonably warm tonight.”
“Thank you, Nik. I appreciate it.” I looked at Serena. “Shall we go meet our guests?”
“I’m going to take Andrew to my parents. You meet your guests.”
I frowned. As far as I was concerned, Serena and I were partners in all things, not just raising Andrew. She, on the other hand, felt that Roarke business was all my purview. Sure, she’d help with planning events, but she wasn’t the hostess in her mind. I acquiesced to her wishes…for now.
I watched her and Andrew work their way through the restaurant to the terrace, making sure my mother didn’t do something crazy. When they were safely outside, I made my way table to table, checking in on our patrons. Nikita was right, the Irish stew was a hit. The menu also included corned beef, coddle, Limerick ham, and seafood chowder.
I found my parents in the lounge. Bri saw me first, giving me a bit of an eye-roll, which I took to mean my mother was unhappy and letting everyone know about it.
“Good evening,” I said as I stepped up next to my dad.
“Devin.” My father patted my back. “Quite the traditional Irish setting you’ve created.”
I couldn’t tell if he liked it or not. “Yes. People seem to be enjoying it.”
“Is my cutie-patootie nephew here?” Bri asked.
“Yes.” I gave a nod to the terrace to indicate where she could find Andrew. Bri was supportive of me, and I appreciated how well she accepted Serena and Andrew. Even my father seemed to enjoy Andrew and I wondered if that was the key to getting him to slow down and find something other than the business to focus on. Not just because I was ready to run it, but also because his illness seemed to slow him down less when Andrew was around.
Of course, the few times I took him to visit my family this week, my mother was out of the house. I promised Serena I’d keep her away from him until we could be assured that she wouldn’t be hurtful.
“Would you like to come and say something to our guests?” I asked my parents.
“This is your show now, son,” my father said. My mother looked away, clearly not liking that statement. I couldn’t decide if it was because she felt bad for my dad having to slow down, or that she’d be out of the limelight with him doing less.
“For the last thirty years, you’ve been running the business and the Roarke. It’s St. Patrick’s Day. I think people would like to see you. Both of you,” I said looking at my mom.
“He’s right, honey. The people should see you,” my mother said.
“Well, okay,” my father agreed. I walked with them back into the restaurant to the area where we had a band and a dance floor. I nodded to the band leader who stopped the group from playing.
I stepped up to the microphone. “May I have your attention?”
The room quieted down and people walked in from the terrace, including Serena, her parents, and Andrew.
“That’s my daddy,” Andrew’s voice squealed with delight. It was amazing how fucking blissful that felt.
People turned to look and there was an audible “aww” in the room.
I grinned like a loon. “Being a dad is awesome.”
There was another “aww.”
“But I’m here to introduce my father. You all know him and so no introduction is needed. Dad?”
My father stepped to the microphone. He took medication for Parkinson's but it didn’t stop the tremors. His illness wasn’t a secret, but he hadn’t been seen in public for some time. The patrons all clapped and there were a few whistles that I was sure horrified my mother.
My father’s eyes got misty at the response. “Thank you,” he said batting his hands in front of him to encourage them to quiet down. “You’re very kind. I want to welcome you to the Roarke’s St. Patrick’s Day celebration. I hope you’re all enjoying your authentic Irish cuisine. For over a hundred years, the Roarke has been serving New York City. I anticipate it will continue to be one of the most renowned restaurants for the next hundred years under the leadership of my son, Devin, and perhaps in another twenty years, his son Andrew.”
My head whipped to my father, and then to my mother, worried how she’d respond. Her jaw was tense, but her gaze held steadfast toward my father, her mouth in an attempt of a smile.
“The Roarke and all the other Roarke family owned restaurants around the world are in good hands. And if you’re looking for a younger vibe, I understand the Roarke clubs are the hot place to be.”
I felt like I was in the twilight zone. Was this really happening?
“In fact, I believe Devin and my daughter Brianna are working together on a new club in New York.”
There were a few “whoops” in the back.
“I ap
preciate all the love and support you’ve given over these few months of my illness. I hope you’ll continue to support Devin as I have every faith in the world that he’ll continue to build a Roarke business based on quality service.” He held his hand out to me. Holy shit, he was officially handing me the baton.
I gave him a hug and whispered, “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, son.”
I stood up at the microphone, feeling a little stunned in a happy way. I shook my head slightly to get my thoughts back in order.
“I just have one more announcement if I may. Well two. One is that we’re serving a round of Guinness for free tonight. One per patron if you’re of age. Sláinte.” I held up my glass in the Irish cheers.
“Sláinte,” echoed through the restaurant.
“St. Patrick’s Day is special. Yes, it is a religious holiday or a drinking one, depending on who you talk to, but it’s also a day where the Irish, those of true Irish descent and those who are Irish in spirit, can celebrate our traditions. For me, it’s more special than that. Five years ago today, I met an Irish woman who stole my heart.”
I looked over at Serena. She blew me a kiss.
“And she’s given me the most precious gift of a son.”
“That’s me!” Andrew patted his chest.
“This St. Patrick’s Day, I want to up the ante a bit.” I held Serena’s gaze, noting her hesitant expression. “Serena Moore. I love you. I love our son. Will you marry me?”
There was a gasp from my mother that didn’t sound happy, but the rest of the room did.
I pulled the emerald ring surrounded by diamonds nestled between Irish love knots from my pocket and held it toward her.
“Say yes, lass,” someone called from the room.
“Yes. Of course, yes.” She hurried toward me and I was so happy she didn’t seem to make a single glance at my mother. I didn’t either. What she said or did didn't matter.
She launched herself into my arms to the cheers of everyone in the room. I slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her, never feeling as happy as I felt at that moment.
“I’m so happy, make it two rounds of Guinness,” I announced.
Another big cheer rumbled through the room.
I pulled Serena away, letting the band play again and people go back to their meals.
“Congratulations,” my father shook my hand. He turned to Serena. “You have a wonderful man in Devin, and terrific son in Andrew, which to my mind must mean you’re something special too.”
Serena teared up. “Thank you.”
“Yay, I finally get a sister too,” Bri said, hugging Serena.
My mother maintained her dour expression, but knowing that people could be watching, she nodded toward Serena. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Mommy, what’s happening?” Andrew asked.
I leaned down to pick him up. “Mommy has agreed to be with me forever. We’re getting married.”
“Can I get married to you too? I want to be with you forever.”
“Yes. We’re going to be a real family.” I was so fucking lucky.
Epilogue
Serena—Five Months Later
Life really could be a roller coaster. One moment, my world had ended because of a careless and selfish mistake. And then I was so happy to have a second chance. But it just kept getting better. On St. Patrick’s Day, Devin asked me to marry him, and I was the happiest, luckiest woman in the world. I didn’t even care that my mother-in-law hated me. I’d endure anything to be Devin’s wife and Andrew’s mother.
Devin and I were in agreement that we didn’t want a long engagement or big wedding. In fact, we’d nearly run off to Las Vegas. However, neither of our parents liked that idea and we figured we owed them a ceremony.
So less than two months later, on Beltane or May Day, we were married on the terrace of the Roarke. Andrew was the ring bearer and Bri was my maid of honor. Our parents were thrilled, except, of course, Mrs. Roarke, but at least she didn’t give me death stares anymore. Once the DNA test came back indicating that yes, Devin was Andrew’s father, she retracted her thorns, which wasn’t to say she welcomed me into the family, but she wasn’t as obviously rude to me.
“She treats everyone like pond scum,” Bri told me one night while she and I had gone out leaving Devin and Andrew to have a father-son night. “In fact, you might consider it a good thing. She treats you as badly as she treats me. You’re family.”
We spent our wedding night naked in the suite of the hotel where five years Devin first initiated me into the pleasure of the body, and the next day, we gathered Andrew from my parents’ house, and got on a plane to Ireland.
“You’re full Irish,” Devin had explained to Andrew. “You should see the homeland.”
We brought Bri along, as she was now learning much about the business and the clubs to help Devin out. It gave him more time with us, and something to keep her out of trouble, or so Devin said. It also gave us a sitter the few times we wanted some alone time.
Now it was the first of August, or in Celtic, Lá Lúnasa. Devin and I had taken Andrew to the zoo at Central Park and had a picnic afterward. That afternoon, we dropped Andrew off with Bri at the Roarke house.
“I’m going to beat grandfather in chess,” Andrew said as he walked up the marble steps.
“You can try,” Mr. Roarke said as he appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Then we’re going swimming, right?” Bri said, standing with her arm through her father’s.
“Yay!”
Mrs. Roarke was off at one of her women’s meetings, but Andrew was spending the night, which meant she’d be there while he was. It always put me on edge, but my own parents were off on a cruise and I’d planned a special night for me and Devin. So I had to trust that Bri would keep any negativity from Mrs. Roarke away from Andrew.
After leaving Andrew, Devin and I got into the car and Doug drove us to our destination.
“You’re hardcore Irish to be celebrating Lá Lúnasa,” Devin said. “I’m not sure how many Irish American’s celebrate that.”
“I like celebrating things with you.” I rubbed my hand down his leg.
His eyes glinted. “Is this a Celtic pagan ritual we’ll be doing?”
“Something like that.”
He turned in his seat, pushing me back. “Can we start now?”
“No. I think we’re here.”
Doug pulled in front of the hotel that Devin had first taken me to on St. Patrick’s Day, and then again, on our wedding night.
He grinned when he saw the building. “I should buy this place.”
“Indeed. It’s not a far leap for the Roarke business to expand into hotels.”
“You’re right.”
Up in the room, a candlelight dinner was already waiting.
“Is this how you celebrate Lá Lúnasa?” he asked as he helped me into my chair.
“It’s how we do it.” I pulled off the dome. “Irish stew—”
“With mutton?”
“Of course. And potato bread. For dipping.”
He grinned. “What’s for dessert?”
“Me.”
He groaned. “Can we skip to that?”
“Eat your dinner.”
We settled into the meal, all the while, my nerves feeling a little rattled. There was no reason to be on edge, and yet I was.
“You know, it always makes me a little nervous when I feel like you're hiding something,” he said, taking my hand. “Pavlovian response.”
“I do have something to tell you.”
I could see him steady himself.
“Want to go to the couch?”
He shook his head. “No, I want you to tell me what’s going on.”
I moved my chair next to him and took his hands, trying to figure out the best way to share this. Finally, I decided on the direct route.
“Devin.”
“Serena.” His voice sounded apprehens
ive.
“You knocked me up again.”
It took him a moment to register what I said. Then a slow grin came to his face. “I did?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He stood, pulling me up with him. He cradled my face in his hands. “It just keeps getting better and better with you.” His hand went to my belly. “How? I thought you were on the pill.”
“Remember back in June when I had the flu?”
“Yes.”
“I missed a few. I’m sorry—”
“Sorry? Don’t be sorry, baby.” He grinned. “Andrew is going to be a big brother.”
“Yes.” I was relieved. We’d talked about more kids in an abstract sort of way, but hadn’t made any specific plans so I wasn’t sure how he’d feel.
“I’ll get to see it all. See you ripe with my child in you.”
I snorted. “You mean fat.”
“See our child as a baby.”
I felt bad that he’d missed that with Andrew.
“I love you so much.” He kissed me hard and maneuvered me to the bed. “Is it perverse that thinking of impregnating you makes me hard?”
I laughed. “No.”
“Is it okay to have sex?”
“Yes,” I said pulling him down over me.
“Lots of it? Because I’m feeling particularly horny.”
I pushed him over and undid his belt. “I want to see.”
We were a rush of arms and legs as we got undressed. Once naked, Devin slowed things down, trailing kisses from my neck to my breasts and lower, hovering over my abdomen.
“There’s a baby in there.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. “Yes. It will be here in March.”
“I love March. I met you in March. I got engaged to you in March.”
“I think St. Patrick’s Day should be renamed Devin Roarke took my virginity and my heart day.”
He snorted and then groaned. “Fuck that makes me hard too.”
“What?”
“I took your virginity. I’m the only man who’ll ever be in your sweet body.”
“Do you plan to start soon, because I’m wet for you.”
“I think I just came.” He grinned up at me, and then lowered his head into my nest of curls and sent me soaring into pleasure.