Lucky Daddy

by Lively, R. S.

  “I’d love nothing more.”

  We drag onward, from the dining room to the kitchen. It isn’t a long walk since the two are right next to each other.

  My brows nearly hit my hairline as I stare. “Uh…”

  “I know. I know. It needs work.” He scratches his head. “But imagine this, okay? Are ye with me?”

  “Maybe?” I hesitate, my voice getting higher as I try to keep an open mind. This room needs help. It needs to be demolished. Vines creep along the walls and the drywall is cracked in half.

  “Okay, hear me out. This wall”—he waves his hand against the vines that wrap around the cabinets, fridge, and oven—"I’d rip it out and replace it with a new one. The cabinets would be all black, and they wouldn't be too high because I know you’d need to reach the cups.”

  I play with my lips as I think about him reaching over my head to grab a mug for me. It’s a nice image.

  “All new, updated appliances. Whatever ye want. But I was thinking of not having stainless steel because every time ye touch it, fingerprints are left behind, and it’s a bitch to clean.”

  I stroll over to the wood-burning stove. “Wait, you’d get rid of this?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “No way! It’s an antique. We could clean it up and put it in another room or something. It’s beautiful.” I run my hand over the black iron. It’s crazy to think that a century ago, this was used to cook bacon. I can’t imagine.

  “Whatever you want.” He laces our fingers together and drags me to another room. It’s a half bath.

  I crinkle my nose. I don’t really like the idea of having a bathroom right next to the kitchen.

  “My thoughts exactly. I’d convert this into a pantry for you.”

  “I like that idea so much better.”

  He shows me another living room. I don’t understand the point of two living rooms, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. He brings me to a pair of sliding glass doors and opens them, only for the entire doors to fall off their hinges. He clears his throat and leans against the wall. “I’ll fix that.”

  He steps onto the porch and his boot falls through the wood. “I’ll fix that, too.”

  I snort, staying inside and staring into the backyard. It’s huge. It must go on for a few acres. A huge fountain with two mermaids carved into it is in the middle. Dead plants are everywhere.

  “Maybe this used to be a garden. How beautiful would that be?” I daydream about a field of flowers with benches so we could sit and enjoy the sunflowers as they bloom.

  “We’d have to tear everything up and start over, but I love the sound of that.” He comes back inside and gives me a kiss. “Upstairs is the best. Come on. Watch yer step, though. I don’t trust the stairs. Actually—” I yelp when I find myself off the ground and over his shoulder. He smacks my butt, and in return, I smack his.

  “Oh, keep me here. I have the perfect view,” I giggle, squeezing his cheeks as he walks up the steps.

  “Aye! That tickles. Ye getting too close to the private area!” he shouts, running up the steps and setting me down. “I’m going to need to keep me eye on ye.”

  I stand on my tip toes and give him a kiss. “You bet’cha.”

  He growls, pecks my lips with a kiss, and brings me to the first room. When he opens the French doors, a few webs break off, but what they reveal takes my breath away.

  “Oh my…” Even with all the grime covering everything, the detail in the trim is exquisite. The bed frame sits broken on the floor and the mattress sags, but I don’t care about that. What I do care about are the big bay windows that curve out, making me dream up the perfect reading nook. “Wow. It’s beautiful.”

  “So, this room doesn’t need too much work. I’d knock out the closets and make them bigger because I know how many clothes ye women seem to have. But what do ye think about the bathroom?”

  I kept a tight hold on my blanket-dress as I walk to the bathroom. “Yikes...” I wince when I see how much work needs to be done. “It’s surprisingly really small.”

  “I know. What do ye imagine it to be?”

  “A double vanity for sure. And a separate tub−maybe a claw-foot tub, but one that's big enough for the both of us to take a nice, long soak after a night of wild, passionate sex.”

  He smiles, adjusting his semi-hard cock. “I love the sound of that.”

  “And a walk-in shower with a big shower head. Oh, and a balcony to overlook the gardens.” I lean my shoulder against the wall and hear a soft crack. I shout as my shoulder goes right through the wall, scratching my skin.

  Reilly runs over to me, pulling me from the wall and checking my shoulder. “It isn’t deep. Just a few scratches. I’m sorry, Gwenie. I can fix that.”

  “There’s a lot in this house to fix. You sure it’s worth it?” I hiss when he skims his fingers over my injured skin.

  “The way we feel about this house makes it worth it,” he comments. “I want to clean out your scratch and make sure nothing got in there, but I don’t trust the water here.”

  I cringe thinking about what color it would be as it came from the pipes. “I’ll be fine until we leave.”

  “You sure?” he croons, kissing my shoulder.

  “It feels so much better now.”

  He kisses it again with a smile. “And now?”

  “I hardly feel a thing. Your mouth is magic.”

  “Mmm, sure is.” His eyes heat. “I can’t wait to taste ye.”

  I feel myself get wet, and I’m not wearing panties to catch the moisture.

  “But we have more house to look at it.”

  “You tease.”

  He shoots me a wink, which doesn’t help ease the growing need I have for him. I pout as he drags me through the room, out of the French doors, and down the hall, which seems to be never-ending. He shows me five more bedrooms and six more bathrooms. All of them need work. “It’s going to cost a fortune to renovate this place. How are we going to do it?” I say we so he doesn’t think I think of this as his project. I want to be part of it. We are a team, but there is no way could I help financially. That’s just the truth.

  “Don’t you worry about that. I have it covered.”

  I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to fish for answers just yet. “What in the world are we going to do with all those bedrooms up there?”

  We walk down the steps, hand-in-hand, and pause when the wood groans and creaks. He picks me up, tosses me over his shoulder, and runs down right as the steps start to cave in. We make it to the bottom of the steps, and he sets me down. The dust grips my throat and I cough, waving my hand in front of my face.

  “I can fix that.”

  I pat his shoulder as the fog clears, leaving us staring at a pile of wood. “I know you can.”

  “I’m going to have to if I plan on filling those rooms with a bunch of our kids.” He slaps my butt as he strides past me, leaving me with my heart falling into my stomach.

  Kids.

  Something I can never give him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Reilly

  Gwen has been quiet on the way back to Lucky’s. She called Camilla to meet us there so she could get a ride back home. Her silence becomes unsettling, and I try to think about something I could have said to upset her, but I can’t figure it out. I lace our hands together and press a kiss against her knuckles, but she pulls her hand away, staring out the window in silence.

  “Gwenie... What’s wrong? Did I say something? I’m not going to pretend to have any clue what I said, 'cause I don’t. Can ye tell me? So, I can beg and plead for ye forgiveness?”

  “You didn’t say anything that upset me.”

  I scoff. “Come on, now. I can tell ye upset. Talk to me.”

  “Talk to you how you talk to me?” she says with a bit of attitude.

  “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I am going to worry about it when it’s causing
us to have our first spat. I don’t want to fight with ye, Gwenie.”

  “How can you afford that house?” she asks as she turns her puffy eyes toward me. Her cheeks are wet from crying, and it breaks my heart because I have no idea how to fix it.

  I sit there for a minute, unsure of what to say. I don’t want to tell her about the money yet. “Lucky,” I say. It isn’t a lie, but it isn’t the entire truth. It’s just a bunch of money. What’s the big deal anyway?

  “Lucky gave you that house?”

  “Yes.”

  “You must think I’m an idiot, Reilly. I know that isn’t true.”

  “It is true! I swear.” Sure, he might not have given it to me directly, but I have that house because of him, which is the same thing.

  She sighs, rubbing her fingers over her temples. “I’m sorry, Reilly. I shouldn’t snap at you. Something you said made me realize that we might not be able to work. I shouldn’t take that anger out on you.”

  I hear the sadness building in her voice, so I pull the car over to the side of the road, putting my hazards on. I angle my body in her direction, taking her hands in mine. “It’s okay.” I’m an ass for not telling her the truth. “Ye can talk to me. Anything ye say won’t change me feelings toward ye.” Damn it, my nerves are getting the best of me. My mind starts conjuring up things she might say that would end this before it even starts.

  “You said you wanted to fill the room with kids.”

  “Did ye not want kids?” That would break my heart. I always thought of having a big family, but if it means loving her over the kids I don’t have yet, then I would choose Gwen.

  “I want kids. I want to give you a house full of them. I want them to drive you crazy until your hair turns grey.”

  I smile at the image she paints for me. “I’m going to look great with grey hair.”

  She gives me a sad smile. “But I can’t give you that, Reilly.” A sob breaks free and more tears spill down the apples of her cheeks.

  I start to panic from what she says. It sounds like she’s breaking up with me. “What are you saying?”

  “I can’t have kids. I found out a few years ago.” She wipes her eyes with her green tank top.

  It takes me a minute to process the words. “You can’t have kids... Are you sure?”

  She nods, sniffling. “I have endometriosis. It’s pretty severe, too. If you want kids, I can’t give them to you. So, we better end this now before we get in too deep.” The heartache in her voice kills me. It brings tears to my eyes. She has her hand over her mouth as she sobs, shutting her eyes as tight as she can. Tears leak from the outer corners, wetting the hand that cups her lips.

  I clear my throat, blinking away tears. “Before we’re in too deep? Do you hear yourself? We are in deep. We’ve been in deep for years. And you not being able to have kids isn’t going to change that. We can adopt. We will adopt every single baby ye see if ye want. I don’t care. There are more ways to have a family. I won’t give up on that.”

  She stares at me with hope but fear as well. Her bottom lashes are wet, dripping salty drops as she sniffles. Her tears clear up a bit. “You mean that?”

  “Of course I mean it. I imagine it all with ye.” Her bottom lip trembles, and I don’t know what to do. “Wait, no. Don’t cry. I don’t know what to do when you cry. It’s killing me.”

  “These are happy tears,” she wails, crying even harder than before.

  I stare at her like she’s lost her mind. “Okay. Sure.” I have no idea what to do. I put the car in drive and head down the road again, feeling a bit lighter after our honest conversation. Guilt eats at me, though. She told me something that she’s probably never told anybody, and I can’t tell her my secret.

  I need to fix that. Maybe I’ll talk to Anthony and see how he would feel about one of his friends dating his sister. Once I get the okay from him, I’ll tell him that I’ve loved his sister for ages. I mean, I loved her while we were growing up, but I didn’t fall in love with her until she was nineteen or twenty. He needs to know that. I plan the conversation in my head as she dries her tears and laces her fingers through mine once again.

  The tires crunch against the gravel as we pull into Lucky’s. Camilla’s car takes up three spots because she can’t drive, apparently. She leans against her blue Volkswagen Bug, wearing big sunglasses and a hat.

  I park beside her, get out, and open the door for Gwen.

  “Oh, and he is a gentleman?” Camilla purrs, lowering her sunglasses.

  “Shut up, Mills.” Gwen’s cheeks turn a rosy color as she leans on the tips of her toes and gives me a kiss. “Text me later?”

  “Like ye could stop me.” I grin, wrapping my arms around her and diving in for a deeper kiss, stroking her tongue with mine.

  She pulls away, blinking away the lust. She leans in, licks my earlobe, and whispers, “I can fix that.”

  I shut my eyes as she rubs her hand over my erection. She takes a step back and walks over to Camilla’s car. “I’ll talk to you later?”

  The tease. “Ye better believe it,” I growl.

  “See ya later, Lucky Charms.” Camilla waves as she slides into the driver’s seat.

  “Funny. Like I haven’t heard that one before.” I cross my arms, watching them drive away.

  Anthony pulls in a few seconds after they had left. Shite. I rub my hands through my hair, preparing for the conversation I’d told myself I’d have with him. The engine of his Lexus cuts off as he steps out. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, which let me know it’s his day off.

  Which means he can drink.

  Which means… drunk Anthony is so much easier to talk to than sober Anthony. Shite, I’m going to hell for thinking like that.

  “Anthony, how ye doing?” I open the door to the pub to see that Brock had already put up all the chairs last night. Alright, that’s a good start. “I was just about to call ye to see if ye wanted to come down and have a drink with me. It’s noon on a Thursday. We can drink, right?”

  “I came down to see how the accounts were doing. I’ve been calling you, but you haven’t answered. Was that Camilla and Gwen who I saw driving out of here?” He shuts the door, locking it behind him. He knows to do that when we aren’t open.

  “Aye. Camilla thought she left something here last night when they came to get a drink, but I told her I didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.” Damn it. Now I’m lying to my best friend.

  “Oh, okay. Makes sense. I don’t see another reason why Gwen would be around you.” He sits at the bar, tapping his fingers against the grain.

  I pour us a couple of pints. “What’s that supposed to mean? Gwen and I talked everything out the other night. We’re cool.”

  “Yeah? Really? What made you not like her in the first place?”

  My heart pounds so hard in my chest that I drop a glass, causing it to shatter on the floor. “What? No. I never disliked her. I kept a respectful distance, with her being your sister and all. I didn’t want ye to think I was trying to pull a fast one.” One-way ticket, straight to the hot flames of the underground, I tell ye.

  He takes a sip from the pint, licking his lips to get the foam off. “You know, I appreciate that. Not many friends would do that. Speaking of friends, Grayson is back in town.”

  I grip the broom so hard it almost breaks in half as I sweep up the broken glass. “Is that so?” Grayson is Gwen’s ex. And from what Anthony tells me, he's the ex that was her first everything. He also used to be Anthony’s friend, too.

  But when Anthony found Gwen crying on her bed, brokenhearted because the bastard cheated on her, their friendship ended. That’s why I never made a move on Gwen.

  “Yep. Camilla told me they were stopped by him the other day while they looked at the apartment above the theater, which they signed the lease on, too. That bastard put his hands on her.”

  The broom snaps. “What?” I ask, fury trembling my voice.

  “Yeah, they were walking away, and he grabbed her wr
ist, wanting to take her out to dinner. Like I’d allow that to happen after what he did to her all those years ago. Break my baby sister's heart? I’ll have it out for you.”

  I know he means in general, but those words sound like they’re meant for me. “Well, we are going to have to make sure he stays away from her.”

  “Yeah, he seemed pretty persistent.”

  Wait a minute. I stop sweeping with the broken end of the broom and dump the glass out. “Why are you talking to Camilla so much? I thought she drove you crazy. What were your words again? Something like ‘her loud personality gives you a headache?’ Wasn’t that what you said?”

  I pour myself another beer. “She called me for legal advice, and we were catching up. Don’t read into it,” he explains

  “Legal advice? Is she okay?”

  “Oh yeah, don’t worry about it. She is fine. Let’s talk about your big purchase though!” He slams his hands against the table. “Holy shit, you bought the Gredence Place! That’s huge. You love that house. Man, Gwen is going to be so jealous when she finds out.”

  My stomach turns. I want to tell him that she already knows. Memories from last night flash in my mind. Her on top, riding me. Her breasts bouncing with every thrust of her hips. Her ass spilling out into my palms as I grab it. I clear my throat, drinking half my pint. “Ye think so? She likes it?” Thank Christ I’m standing behind the bar. He doesn’t need to see the erection I have at the thought of his sister.

  “She has always loved that place. You’ll have to show her sometime.”

  I chug my beer and refill it. “I’d love to. It needs work. Maybe she can give me some ideas on how to spruce up the place. The damn staircase collapsed today. We barely made it out alive.”

  “We?”

  “What?” I sip my beer, walking around the bar to sits next to my best lad, now that my erection has wilted.

  “You said we.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Shite. What am I going to do?

  “Yeah, you said that you guys barely made it out alive. What happened? Are you okay?”