Hard Irish

by Jennifer Saints

  And while the kiss had been out of this world hot, the more he thought about it, the more wretched he became. She was obviously a woman in a very bad situation and part of him felt as if he’d taken advantage of her. He could have just as well busted her ex’s chops without having coerced her into an all-out public kiss-fest on a barroom floor. Some class. Some style. Some hero. It didn’t help that he hadn’t meant to carry the kiss that far. The fact is he did.

  He needed to find her and apologize and hope beyond hope that she’d want to see him again. Because for the first time in a long damn time, maybe even ever, he really, really wanted to see her again.

  James pocketed both Chloe and Ginger’s number before seeing the blondes off—in a green mini-van. Jared didn’t have to ask to know James would not be calling. Mini-van meant kids and James had a rule that he didn’t date a woman with baggage. Kids were complications he wanted to add on his timetable and not one already pre-set.

  “You okay to drive?” James asked.

  Jared tossed James the keys and headed for the passenger’s seat. “Better safe than sorry.”

  “You’re damn lucky not to be leaving in an ambulance. That guy was bent on dealing you a lethal blow. Was she worth it? Did you get her number?”

  Jared groaned and rested his head back as he nursed his nose. “I didn’t even get her name.”

  “Thought so or you’d be a lot more pissed right now.” James shifted gears fast and pulled out onto the highway, nearly pushing the Porsche to ninety in mere seconds.

  “What do you mean by that? And for Christ’s sake slow down. We can’t afford the ticket or the hospital bill.”

  James downshifted and settled close to the speed limit. “While you were kissy-facing the woman and bouncing her man, I asked a few questions.”

  “He’s not her man. He’s her ex.”

  “With a lot more of a bone to pick with her than who gets custody of Fluffy.”

  “Huh? Are you saying she’s got kids with that jackass?”

  “No.”

  Jared cracked an eye at James. “Then what?”

  “Her name is Rocky McKenna. She is currently the R. McKenna running McKenna Construction since her father fell ill last month. The very company putting us out of business. And her ex is Collin Brady, the son of her father’s business partner. She ousted Collin from the company after their divorce three years ago. He’d apparently been working for the company as long as she has, but she and her father have controlling interest. According to gossip, she is one hard Irish woman and it isn’t because she wears a hard hat.”

  Jared pinched his nose as he felt another rush of blood. “What a clusterfuck.”

  “Actually no,” James said. “It’s freaking perfect. Today you were her hero. And tomorrow, you’re going to waltz into her office and check things out. You’re going to discover what illegal corners McKenna Construction is cutting.”

  Jared’s denial died in his throat. He would go see her tomorrow to apologize, but that was it. Anything else they discovered would have to be done differently.

  Nursing a gourmet hot chocolate, Rocky nearly scalded her cleavage when someone pounded on the door. She had the lights off, curtains drawn and taped shut, her doors locked, and her truck parked in garage. She had 911 pre-dialed on her cell phone. All she had to do was press send. She even had her car keys in her pocket, just in case she needed a quick escape. She had her shotgun loaded, but it was hidden and would stay hidden. Shooting was the last measure she didn’t want to ever have to take.

  It wasn’t until after Mack left and Rocky got to reliving what happened in the bar that she realized just how pissed and drunk Collin had been. She had no doubt that he’d come after her. Her heart pounded hard and her hand shook so bad she barely got the cup to the coffee table.

  Another pounding knock was followed by a bark.

  “Rocky? It’s Dessie? You okay?”

  Shuddering with relief, Rocky rushed to the door. “You two are a sight for sore eyes,” she said, giving Dessie and Pebbles a huge hug.

  “Can’t say the same about you. You look like hell. What’s going on?” Dessie pressed her palm to Rocky’s forehead. “Last time your house was dark at nine at night you had the flu, a fever of one-hundred-and-four and needed the hospital.”

  “I wish it was the flu.” Rocky locked and dead-bolted the door as soon as Dessie and Pebbles were inside— actions that had Dessie raising both brows.

  “Better dish out the whole story fast, girl. I’m not liking any of this.”

  Rocky spilled it all, starting from her father’s cryptic words, to Collin’s rage and to the stranger’s searing kiss.

  “First thing, there is no point in worrying and wrangling about your parents’ stuff. Time enough for that when you get your hands on something concrete. God only knows what drives parents to leave confessions from the grave. In my opinion if it wasn’t worth saying while alive then they should keep it that way. Nothing you can do about it tonight, right?”

  Rocky found herself nodding agreement. Leave it to Dessie to put a mountain into anthill perspective.

  “Second thing you’re going to do is spend the night with me and have a drink or two. Any argument there?”

  “Or three,” Rocky added, finding her voice amid the grateful rush of emotion. If it wasn’t for Dessie, Rocky realized that she would really be alone, just as Uncle Pat had worried.

  “The third thing is you’re going to tell me the last part of that story all over again. The man-kiss part. Damn. He must be something. To get you to do in seconds what I’ve been pushing you to do for years is beyond believable.”

  Rocky laughed.

  “The fourth thing we are going to do is figure out what you’ve got to do to be comfortable in your house and do it. I know one sexy-as-hell bouncer you’d just love having around for a while and he’d make mincemeat of your ex.”

  “Have I told you lately that I love you?” Rocky smiled through her threatening tears. She hated herself for this weakness. She wished like hell she could march right up to Collin, plaster his ass to the ground and walk away, leaving him to cower in fear.

  “Not nearly enough, dear. Now let’s get the PJ party on the road, but don’t forget your shotgun. My Bessie hasn’t been oiled in a while, so no telling what she’d do in a pinch.”

  “I’ll bring my kit and clean her up for you.” Rocky left the room, thinking what a difference a friend makes.

  Everything from the day’s events and the past that had been crashing down on her moments ago had been pulverized to dust. By the time she walked into Dessie’s house and cleaned her friend’s shotgun, she was almost wishing Collin did show up just so she could show him that she wasn’t afraid of him.

  “You do that like an expert,” Dessie said.

  “What?”

  “Handle that gun.”

  “With what goes on in today’s world, a woman needs to know the business ends of weapons.”

  “Oh, I know the business end of a gun, doesn’t mean I can handle it like a, pro.”

  Rocky shrugged. “I’ll take you to the shooting range. It won’t take you long to learn.” She set the unloaded weapons on the counter and washed the gun oil off her hands.

  “Deal,” Dessie said moving into the living room. “Speaking of hot guns. What’s his name? This miracle man who managed to kiss your socks off?” She plopped down on her zebra print couch and sank deep into a sea of pink satin pillows.

  Sighing, Rocky joined her. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve never seen him before. He just showed up in the middle of the bar fight and took on Collin.”

  “This is great. I’ll call Sally tomorrow. She’ll be able to playback surveillance and we can ID your mystery man in a jiffy.”

  “You sound like one of those high-tech spy shows. You going to run his picture through a computer or something?”

  “Honey, nothing so complicated as that. If he was in
that bar, he had to have had a drink, which means he had a waitress and these days he likely used plastic. Just leave it to Dessie. I will find your man. What you have to decide is what you’re going to do with him when I do.”

  That was one question she did not what to answer at the moment. Would. Should. And Could, were often worlds apart. “What did you decide to do with yours?” Rocky asked, turning the tables.

  “My what?” Dessie blinked.

  “Your Redford hunk. What did you decide to do with him? And what is his name. You’ve never said.”

  “He goes by the name of Saint. Don’t ask me why because there is nothing saintly to what his bedroom eyes incite. But fantasy is as far as it will ever go. The young man has a whole life to live in front of him. I’ve lived most of mine already. And even though I can be talked into gratuitous sex on occasion, wisdom demands that I draw the line. He’s too young.”

  “We’ll see,” Rocky said.

  Dessie’s eyes went wide open then narrowed with suspicion. “That’s exactly what he said.”

  “Great minds,” she replied.

  Dessie shook her head. “More like insane minds. Speaking of which, let’s go ahead and open the can of worms though there’s no place for them to crawl. What’s this with your parents’ after death deliveries? And what exactly did your father try and say?”

  Rocky retold the story.

  “Hmm. So both your mom and your dad felt the need to leave you something to see after they’ve moved on to the Blue Sky Mansion.”

  “Yes, according to Pat they have. He’s got the box from my mother and supposedly the lawyer has stuff from Da.”

  “You know this doesn’t sound like it’s going to be good, especially from your mom. If it was just love-letters an ill-parent writes to their child, your father would have given them to you by now. You also realize that the lawyer isn’t going to let you have any of your father’s things. He’ll be bound by ethics and law to only deliver them after your father’s death.”

  “I can only try. I have power of attorney for my father, so maybe that will make a difference. I am more worried about the effect on my father’s current health. He’s trying to tell me something important. Maybe knowing their secrets will help. Something needs to help me figure out what my father meant. He loved my mother.”

  “Close your eyes and think about her for a few minutes. What comes to mind?”

  Rocky followed Dessie’s lead. “Quiet, gentle, creative. She had dark hair like me, but her eyes were china blue and she had fragile, handle with care stamped all over her. Whereas I’m like the Dodge truck commercials—ram tough.” Rocky laughed. “She was petite and into fashion. Growing up I was the ultimate tomboy and I was huge. She’d put me in white lace for church and I’d end up wrestling in the grass with the boys. She wrote in her spare time, whenever she wasn’t running the construction office or taking care of Da or me. Poems and short stories.”

  “What were they like?”

  “Tidbits about Ireland, her childhood. She didn’t have an easy time of it. Her stories were often sad,” Rocky whispered and drew a deep breath, realizing now that her mother had been a solitary, melancholy person. “It’s been a while since I’ve read any of her work. Even when she was sick, she kept writing and self-published collections of her poems and short stories. I have her books on my shelf.”

  “Seems to me that one way to understand what your father might be trying to say about your mom, is to go back and remember the person your mother was.”

  “Good idea. When I get home tomorrow night, I’ll pull out her books. Tomorrow is a big day. We start the Drake Hotel renovations. I want to be onsite by seven.”

  Dessie crossed her eyes. “You might have mentioned that before I invited you for a PJ party. Pebbles, you’re in charge of breakfast and seeing our guest off.”

  Rocky laughed. “What is she going to serve me? A dog biscuit?”

  “Yes. They are gourmet. All natural, organic, and teeth-sinking good. Bacon, egg, and cheese is her favorite flavor. She had one for dessert tonight.”

  “I think I got a whiff of that when I kissed her earlier.”

  “Speaking of kisses. On a scale of one to ten, how does your stranger rate?”

  “Twenty.” Rocky sighed.

  “Really? Twenty?” Dessie practically fell off the couch. “Oh, honey! I’m having a hot flash just thinking about it. You need to get him bedroom bound ASAP. Do not waste a minute of talent like that.”

  Rocky rolled her eyes. “Let’s watch a movie.”

  Dessie arched a brow. “I’ll let it go for now, but you can’t hide from yourself forever. What do you want to watch?”

  “Flirting with Forty,” Rocky said with a grin. They’d both read the book based on author Jane Porter’s real life experience about finding love with a younger man.

  “You play dirty girlfriend. We’ll watch it, but then you’ve got homework tonight.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll see.” Dessie smiled.

  Two hours later, movie finished, couch made into a bed, and several Bailey’s Irish Creams a piece down the hatch, Dessie tossed a small book in Rocky’s lap as she said goodnight.

  “What’s this?” Rocky picked it up.

  “Your homework.”

  “Pocket Guide to Kama Sutra. Seriously?”

  Dessie grinned, using Rocky’s earlier tone of voice. “In today’s world, a woman needs to know how to handle big guns on and off the shooting range. Just because you know your way around the bedroom doesn’t mean you can’t become an expert at the art of love. Night, night.” Dessie made a bee-line for her bedroom.

  Rocky stared at the book a minute. Hours later she concluded, it was more than curiosity that killed the cat. Intimate images filled her mind and her body was on fire.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  James slammed the truck door and headed for their office in Weldon Estates’ model home. Jared winced as he followed his twin. He half expected the rusty hinges to break on the old Ford they’d borrowed from their dad earlier.

  Nine o’clock in the morning and reality already had them by the short hairs with no Starbucks to soften the pain. His Porsche and James’s Jaguar were back at the leasing company, and they were reduced to their Shamrock Construction work truck and the beat-up pick-up they’d shared in high school. Degrees in business, architecture, and award-winning house designs had done zip to insulate them from a sagging economy.

  Besides the money issue, James was still on edge about his “premonition” of Jesse and Jackson. He’d spoken to both brothers this morning...at six AM. Jared was pretty sure James hadn’t slept all night and wasn’t taking Jared’s news well.

  “I can’t believe you. Our asses are on the line and you have the perfect opportunity to find out what underhanded crap is going on with McKenna Construction that’s putting us out of business. But instead of checking things out, you’re going to go apologize for kissing her?”

  “Yeah, I am. I shouldn’t have coerced her into it.”

  James pressed his palms to his temples. “A Weldon kiss gave that girl the best five seconds of her life and you’re going to apologize and walk away? Either her ex knocked a screw loose in your brain or she castrated you. If McKenna Construction was being run by a man you’d have no qualms about checking things out.”

  Jared frowned. Considering Rocky’s response to his kiss, he couldn’t argue about it being a damn good five seconds. Hell, it might even be the best five seconds of his life as well. He didn’t want to “walk away” from her, but given who he was, and what he wanted, it was the only honorable thing to do. He wasn’t going to use her, or their kiss, as a way to spy on her company.

  “You’re right. But then if a man was running McKenna Construction, I wouldn’t have kissed him. We’ll find out what we want without me screwing her over. She’s got enough assholes in her life as it is. I refuse to add to it.”

  “I don’t get how looking around screws her over. But since
it eats at your conscience, why don’t I take your place? I’ll go see her, pretend to be you for a day or two and find out how they are consistently underbidding us.”

  It had been a long time since Jared wanted to plant his fist in James’s face. He sucked in air, and glared.

  James raised his hands in surrender and backed off. “Damn, bro. Forget I mentioned it. You’re screwed, blued, tattooed, and delusional. Good luck and send me an invite.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means I hope our shared DNA doesn’t mean a shared fate.”

  The phone rang and James answered. He hung up after a short conversation and shook his head. “Weird.”

  “What?”

  “The couple from L.A. coming to see the spec house. They sound as if they’ve already bought it.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  James shrugged. “I guess. Unusual, given the economy. They’ll be here in fifteen.”

  “My cue to head out. I’ve an apology to deliver.”

  “I bet you my last dollar that your noble-ass is incapable of walking away from her,” James muttered.

  Jared pretended he didn’t hear. Walking away from her was just until he could settle his professional bone with McKenna Construction. It didn’t mean he wasn’t going to pick up where their kiss left off ASAP.

  He drove all the way to McKenna Construction’s main office thirty minutes into South Carolina only to discover that Roxanne McKenna wasn’t there. Folks had to have recognized him from the bar fight last night, because he practically had to pull teeth to find out where Roxanne McKenna was. She was back in Savannah at the Drake Hotel, already setting up her crew for the job. The woman apparently didn’t waste a minute.

  Jared spent the return trip rehearsing what to say without sounding like an idiot, but ended up empty handed. Frustrated, he turned his thoughts to the job McKenna Construction had just outbid them on. During the turn of the century, Anderson Drake had had all of George Washington Biltmore’s vision of creating an unforgettable estate, but only half the money and acreage. Word was, to finish his dream, he’d made a deal with Chicago crime bosses during Prohibition and ran liquor through tunnels leading from the estate to the Savannah River.