“Nonna, this is Ashlynn, my fiancée.”
Italian Mary scrutinized Ashlynn from head to toe. She was the smallest, most intimidating woman he’d ever met. She muttered words in Italian he was glad he didn’t understand. Then, in the irritated tone she always used when she recalled none of them spoke a lick of Italian, she said, “Sit down, child.”
He nudged Ashlynn and she slid into the booth.
Italian Mary glared up at him and snapped, “Go away, Kelly. This is women talk.”
He was reluctant to leave, but did as he was told. Sliding the box between them, Kelly kissed Ashlynn’s head and went to find his aunt.
Colleen was waiting at the cook window taking in the scene. “Should I be scared?” he asked.
Aunt Colleen smiled, but didn’t take her gaze from the booth in the back. “Your fiancée’s nothin’ like I expected, Kelly.”
“I know. She’s prettier than the rest.”
Colleen was his favorite aunt. She always seemed to see something in him the others missed. To her, he was not a lost cause philandering his life away. He was a success waiting to happen.
Colleen smiled and faced him. “She’s quite lovely.”
Her approval definitely touched him. “I think so.”
“It must be hard, not having her mother here for all this.”
He smiled sadly. “Do you think Italian Mary will be able to fix the dress?”
“She’ll find a way. Doing so will make her feel superior and she likes that.”
Kelly nodded and his aunt quietly said, “I can’t imagine losing your mother at such a young age. I’m in my fifties and, while my mother’s still here, she hardly recognizes us. I miss her every day.”
The slow decline of Morai’s mind was something that affected all of them. Kelly still couldn’t talk about the grandmother they’d lost to a disease the world had no explanation for. He was grateful she was still living, but that didn’t negate the way his heart broke whenever he found his mother or his aunts crying for the parent who had, over time, become more like a child to them.
They watched silently as Ashlynn spoke out of hearing range and Italian Mary listened. It didn’t take long for Ashlynn to pull on the old woman’s heartstrings. Soon the lid was lifted and the dress was fanned out over the table.
Italian Mary’s knobby knuckles pointed here and there, inspecting the aged lace, as she spoke. Ashlynn nodded, a look of hope in her eyes. A while later, they stood and Ashlynn hugged the older woman.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” his Aunt Colleen breathed.
Italian Mary gripped Ashlynn’s elbow, the box clasped tightly under the black sleeve covering her arm, as they approached.
“Colleen, take me home. I have work to do for Kelly’s bride.” Kelly smiled then his Nonna gripped his cheeks painfully and slapped the mark. “You be good to this girl. She is a keeper, eh?”
“I will, Nonna. Thank you.”
She nodded gruffly and gave his aunt an impatient look. Colleen grabbed her keys and said, “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to talk, Ashlynn, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you.”
When they left Ashlynn sighed. “She’s nice.”
Kelly’s eyes widened and he laughed. “They’re all nice, once you get past the thorns.”
* * * *
The following weeks passed quickly. Ashlynn visited his Aunt Colleen’s home several times for fittings and she always returned in a happy mood. His mother was not speaking to him because they’d abandoned her dinner.
Kelly wanted to protect Ashlynn from his family, knowing they meant well, but unable to ignore his instincts that the interrogation could wait. Besides, his mother had tricked them and lied.
They met with Father Mark and were given their certificate of completion for the Pre-Cana class. However, when it was time to leave the priest held him back.
“I’ll be hearing your confession now, Kelly.”
Kelly hesitated, trying to laugh off the suggestion, but saw no humor in the priest’s eyes.
“I’ll meet you in the church,” Ashlynn said, excusing herself from the office.
“Have a seat, son.” Father Mark returned to his desk and Kelly slowly returned to the seat he’d vacated, dread building in his stomach.
“Shouldn’t we go to the confessional?”
“Here’s as good a place as any. Do you remember how to begin?”
Kelly nodded, the old practice reawakening in his mind. He made the sign of the cross. “Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been years since my last confession.”
Father Mark nodded for him to continue.
“Since my last confession, I’ve taken the Lord’s name in vain. I’ve missed church.”
“Why do you miss church, Kelly?”
“I work late the night before.”
“Can you not attend a different mass?”
“I could. I’m going to start.”
“Is this because it’s important to you, an act to become closer to God, or is in an act to appease your fiancée?”
“All of the above.”
“Ashlynn has a strong faith. I believe if you don’t close yourself off from that faith, she’ll help you restore your relationship with God. Tell me what other sins you’ve committed.”
“Well, I haven’t killed anyone, so that’s good.”
Father Mark waited.
Kelly sighed. “I’ve had premarital sex. Lots of it. Buckets full.”
“Have you shared this with your fiancée?”
“She knows about my past.”
“Have you and Ashlynn engaged in premarital relations?”
“No. We’re waiting.”
Father Mark looked surprised. “Very good. Do you remember your Act of Contrition?”
Kelly stumbled through the long prayer. Before he left, Father Mark dished out his penance. “For your penance, Kelly, I want you to say the rosary, once for each woman you’ve had premarital affairs with. As you say these prayers, I want you to think about what the act means and how the importance differs when shared with a spouse. I would like to see you in church more often and would have you stop cursing.” He made the sign of the cross and said a prayer, absolving Kelly of his sins.
“That’s it?”
Father Mark laughed. “That’s it. Go with God.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ashlynn was getting married in two days. Two days! She’d spent the week preparing her home for Kelly, cleaning out extra drawers and scrubbing every wall and floor. She didn’t think he’d notice, but she wanted everything perfect.
Maureen had paid Roy a surprise visit, something her father was still recovering from. The way he described it, Kelly’s mother stormed into the house and gave herself her own guided tour, speaking of lace and ribbons and a world of things she and Roy knew nothing about.
Ashlynn called Kelly the minute she’d found out and he’d made it very simple.
“Do you feel the need to be bridezilla? Because if you do, I’ll make it happen, but if you don’t, if you just want to sit back and let them handle all the girlie crap, here’s your cue to let them go hog wild,” he’d said.
She’d considered everything a wedding entailed and rationalized she’d probably overlooked more than half the stuff most brides prepared. Her dress had overwhelmed her enough. Beyond that, she’d handled the church. Everything else was for their parents. There was no harm in letting the McCullough women handle the details. “Will they harass Roy? I don’t want him overwhelmed in his own home.”
“Roy has a gun. Tell him to shoot anyone that gets out of hand.”
“Kelly!”
“What? You said he’s a terrible shot.”
“No one’s shooting anyone.”
“You’re no fun.” He sighed. “Look, do you want to do all that wedding stuff? I mean really?”
“No…”
“So let them go nuts.”
And she did, saving herself a ton of worry over things she didn’t k
now.
* * * *
As she was pulling on her shoes to go visit Kelly at the pub there was a knock at the door. Peeking out the window, she didn’t recognize the SUV parked in her driveway. Opening the front door, she stilled. “Sheilagh?”
The fiery little red head smiled wickedly and cocked her hip. “All right, Ashlynn, enough’s enough. We’ve let you play your little game of dodge the crazies, but time’s up. It’s time to induct you into the McCullough clan right and proper like. Grab your purse and get in the car.”
Ashlynn frowned. “What?”
“Just tackle her arse and throw her in the trunk!” A woman with red hair yelled from the passenger seat of the SUV.
Ashlynn gave Sheilagh a panicked look and Kelly’s sister arched a well-manicured brow, telling Ashlynn that was an option. She quickly grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder as she stepped onto the porch.
“There you go,” Kelly’s sister said, smiling like a cat over a big fat bowl of cream.
She followed her to the car. “Where are we going?”
“O’Malley’s.”
“Oh, good. I was heading there anyway.”
Sheilagh laughed, but didn’t say anymore. She held the back door of the SUV open and Ashlynn spotted Mallory and Colin’s wife, Samantha. “Ashlynn, this is Sammy, my sister Kate, and you know Mallory. Everybody, this is Kelly’s bride, the escape artist.”
Her eyes bulged when she saw the size of Samantha’s stomach. She slid in beside the woman and Mallory handed her a tiara and a tartan sash. “Don’t worry,” Mallory said. “Once the whisky sets in you’ll feel no pain.”
“I don’t drink.” Ashlynn buckled her seatbelt.
Sheilagh climbed behind the wheel and backed out of the drive. “Of course you drink. You’re a McCullough now.”
They arrived at O’Malley’s and Ashlynn’s worry faded when she spotted Kelly’s truck. He’d make sure nothing got out of hand. She followed the girls into the pub, Samantha waddling at the rear.
As they stepped in the pub, Ashlynn stilled. The crowd was shouting and cheering as several broad backs crowded around whatever was happening at the bar. She didn’t see Kelly.
“Girls,” Sue greeted. “Your room’s in the back. Come on.”
They followed Sue to the back and Ashlynn craned her neck to see what all the shouting was about. Her jaw dropped when she spotted Kelly, without his shirt, lying on the bar, as one of his brothers poured liquid right from a bottle in his mouth.
“Freeeeedommmm!” her fiancé roared and the men cheered.
Their voices bellowed out a masculine chant. “McCullough! McCullough! McCullough!”
Samantha nudged her. “Keep movin’. I need a seat before my sciatica kicks in.”
She entered the back of the bar and stilled. Pink and black balloons filled the room and there were more women she didn’t recognize. She spotted Kelly’s mother and his Aunt Colleen. They were chatting loudly over music and slurring their words.
Ashlynn was dragged to a chair adorned with more balloons and handed a glass. “Drink,” Sheilagh demanded.
She put the glass to her lips, smelling the sweet syrupy scent of diet cola. The carbonation tickled her nose and she sputtered as a new taste hit her tongue. They’d spiked her drink.
Her glass was removed from her hand and a gift was hoisted onto her lap. The women spoke loudly, demanding she open it. She adjusted her tiara and pulled the ribbon. As her fingers lifted the lid she found a lovely teacup with Irish detail around the rim.
“The entire set will be delivered to your house tomorrow. I didn’t want to bring it to the pub and chance it getting broken,” Colleen said.
“Thank you.”
Another gift was placed in her lap, this one a fancy new blender, then another and another. The gifts kept coming and so did the drinks. Little bursts of giggles kept creeping up on her and she was oddly dancing in her chair as she quietly opened the presents and thanked each individual. Whatever was in her cola was giving her a peculiar warm feeling.
Kelly’s sisters approached with a large box. Sheilagh smiled widely and handed her a card. Ashlynn opened it and read, her face heating as the meaning set in.
From here on ye shall be Irish by injection.
May he always rise up to meet you,
May he drag his hands over your back,
May you bear him many sons,
May the reins fall softly at your feet.
And when he bosses may ye not give a flamin’ sheet.
A McCullough Irish Blessing.
She untied the ribbon and found it connected to whatever was inside. It was a hamper. Her fingers wound and pulled the ribbon. Out came a silky strip of fabric. Heat rushed to her face, forming what was likely a furious shade of red. It was a black lace nightgown.
The woman cheered and passed the ribbon down the line. Out came another strip of lace and silk, and another, until a beribboned clothesline surrounded her, a lace piece of lingerie handing every few feet.
“That’ll get me some new grandbabies!” Kelly’s mother yelled.
Kelly’s Aunt Rosemarie slapped her sister’s shoulder and said, “Like there’s any question of Kelly’s virility. He’ll be sowing his seed the moment he mounts her.”
Dear Lord, they were all insane!
There was a loud clatter from the other part of the bar and the doors burst open. The man in question stumbled in. “Ashlynn, love, I’ve come to rescue you!”
Her mouth gaped. It was the first time she’d seen Kelly without a shirt. His abs were cut as though carved from stone. Tattoos scattered around his ribs, hips, and chest. He stumbled toward her and men suddenly filled the room, barreling in after him with an equal lack of grace.
She yanked the string of lingerie, trying to stuff it back in the hamper, but it was too late. Kelly’s head twisted and he drew up short. His eyes met hers and something dark and promising swirled in the azure depths. “Fuck… What is that ye be holdin?” he said with an extra thick and slurred accent. “I’ll be liking to see these pieces on yer ass, lass.”
His mother slapped the back of his head. “Not until Sunday, Kelly.”
He winced, but continued to smile. “My brothers have gone and gotten me drunk.”
Ashlynn hid a smile. “I see.”
His booted feet stumbled forward and he whispered, “Are they being good to you, love?”
She nodded.
Sheilagh stood and snapped, “Get him out of here, guys. The stripper’s about to come.”
Kelly’s eyes widened and he scowled at his sister. “No strippers.”
Sheilagh rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, Kelly.”
Stripper? Ashlynn didn’t want to see a stripper. Kelly stood up to his full height. “No. Strippers.”
There was some sort of commotion at the back table. Sheilagh faced off with her brother and the room abruptly silenced with a piercing whistle. Everybody turned.
Samantha stood like a woman possessed. “Colin!”
Ashlynn gawked as a puddle formed under Samantha’s feet.
“Christ!” Maureen yelled. “Yer havin’ the baby now?”
Colin pushed through the crowd, stumbling, and went to his wife. Samantha wrapped her arms around his neck as he scooped her up. “Sheilagh, drive us to the hospital.”
Sheilagh jumped into action searching for her keys. A stampede of shouting crazy people rushed out the door and suddenly it was only Ashlynn and Kelly standing in an abandoned bar full of half drank glasses and popped balloons.
He grinned at her. “I believe all that prayin’ I’ve been doing has made God take mercy on my soul. What just happened can only be described as divine intervention.”
She laughed and he stumbled into her arms, nuzzling the curve of her neck, moaning and kissing her. “How drunk are you?”
“My blood’s so thin at the moment I can’t tell which beautiful Ashlynn I’m seeing is the real one. I like your hat.”
“It’s a tiar
a.”
He dropped to the floor and she joined him. They propped themselves up against the leg of a pool table and he draped his arm over her shoulder. “Don’t let go, love. Don’t ever let go.” He was really wasted.
They waited there, leaning against the pool table to hear word from his family about Samantha and the baby. Sue closed off the back room and handled the regulars at the bar.
Ashlynn showed Kelly all the gifts they’d been given and he admired each one justly. As his fingers examined the rope of lingerie, he whispered, “Ashlynn, love?”
“Yes?”
His words were slow and slurred. “I’m going to be a good husband to you. I’m going to love you always, thoroughly, and well. All I ask is that you believe I’m capable of these things. I’m sure I’ll disappoint you from time to time, but never forget, you make me want to be a better man.”
Her heart fluttered almost painfully. Pressing her lips to his bare shoulder she said, “You make me want to be a better woman, Kelly. I’ll never forget so long as you always remember that.”
His eyes closed and he smiled. “I love ya, Ashlynn Fisher.”
She smiled. “I love you too, Kelly McCullough.” Her hand brushed over his tousled hair. “I have since I was a little girl.”
* * * *
They woke up the following morning on the floor of the bar. She’d slept in Kelly’s arms. This was how she’d wake up every day from here on out.
Kelly grunted and moaned. Ashlynn sat up and whispered, “Good morning, sleepy head. Tomorrow’s our wedding.”
Kelly grinned and pulled her to his chest. His hand ran over her shoulder and he asked, “Are you nervous?”
“I’m more nervous about tomorrow night.”
“How long’s the reception?”
“A few hours.”
“Good thing your father’s house is close to yours. All I’m gonna be thinking about, once we say our vows, is getting you up to our bed and making you mine.”
She’d always been his. Her pulse leapt as she tried to imagine what making love to him would feel like. Would it hurt? Would it be as wonderful as she imagined? Would they keep the lights off? She had so many questions.
Chaste Page 28
