The Irish Lottery: A Friends-to-Lovers Contemporary Romance (Irish Kiss)

by Sienna Blake

  I caught Noah’s eyes from across the bar and he smiled, his face lighting up. I knew his trademark dimple would be popping in his left cheek even though I couldn’t see it.

  I couldn’t help the smile I returned to him.

  Noah practically ran over looking like he hadn’t seen me in weeks. Even though it’d been hours since I last saw him.

  I laughed as he picked me up from the floor in a bear hug and rubbed his knuckles in my hair.

  “Put me down, asshole.”

  “What? I missed you.”

  “Ugh, can you miss me from farther away though?” I joked.

  “Thanks for earlier, Rey,” he whispered in my ear. “I couldn’t get through this without you.”

  My heart somersaulted in my chest, banging all my ribs. He lowered me and I slid down his body, trying to ignore how hard and strong it felt. I cleared my throat and took a step back. “I have something for you…” I said. “Thought it might cheer you up.”

  “Just seeing you cheers me up.” Noah flashed me his trademark grin.

  The smile with the dimple and the soft crinkles around his blue eyes that I could drown in. Was it any wonder he had a friggin’ entourage of girls who came in here night after night waiting to capture his attention? A fresh batch appearing at the beginning of every college year.

  I swear I heard Candace sighing in the background.

  I rolled my eyes. Because I was totally immune to his grin. Totally. I swear. “Yeah, yeah. Save the sweet talk for ladies’ night.” I reached behind the bar and grabbed the thing I’d been working on all afternoon.

  “A t-shirt?” he asked.

  I flicked it open, holding it by the shoulders. “Do you like it?” I asked, not at all certain why I was acting so unsure.

  Noah’s eyes scanned the writing. He let out a laugh.

  I relaxed. He liked it!

  With one hand, Noah pulled his current t-shirt off.

  I froze.

  Candace let out a gulp so I was pretty sure she’d just swallowed her tongue.

  Noah O’Sullivan, my best friend, had a firm chest and broad shoulders, tapering to a V and golden curls trailing down a perfect six-pack. He looked unreal. Like an immortal being trying to look like a human.

  God of Thunder indeed.

  He snatched the t-shirt out of my hands and pulled it over his naked torso.

  Candace and I let out a collective sigh of disappointment as the most incredible body I’d ever seen in real life disappeared behind the t-shirt I’d printed that afternoon.

  A picture of a boat with the words Need a boat? I Noah guy.

  Noah slung an arm around my neck and pulled me in for a hug, his lips pressing above one eyebrow. “I love it, Rey. Love it.”

  I was never washing my forehead again.

  He let go of me and I wobbled as I tried to find my own balance again, staring as Noah ambled off to the storeroom to…well, to do storeroom stuff, I guessed.

  I was still stuck on two minutes ago when I’d seen more of my best friend than I’d ever seen before.

  “Nossa, amiga,” Candance whispered again.

  “Nossa, amiga,” I agreed in a whisper.

  Candace cleared her throat. I looked back to see Candace staring at me.

  She raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow.

  “What?” I asked, running a hand over my head. “Is my hair sticking up?”

  “You two.” Candace clenched at her heart and let out a sigh. “So cute.”

  My cheeks heated and I hoped to hell that they weren’t obviously coloring. “We’re just friends, Candace.”

  “Just friends. Yeah, okay.”

  No one seemed to believe that Noah and I were just friends. We were. Just friends. Really.

  Aubrey

  After work, Noah and I made our weekly pilgrimage to the twenty-four-hour convenience store to buy our lottery ticket for the weekly EuroMillions draw.

  We’d been doing this since the first Saturday I stayed late after my first shift with Noah and we’d laughed our asses off over several pints.

  As was our post-closing ritual, we grabbed a kebab from one of the late-night Turkish takeaways. It was too cold to eat in the car, which we often did during summer, so we headed to my apartment where we sat in my living room on cushions and stuffed our faces, the lottery ticket safely in Noah’s pocket and our minds on what we’d do with the money if we won Friday’s draw.

  “I’d buy an apartment,” I said between bites, in a low voice so not to wake my housemate. I stared around my flat, my eye catching on every crack and permanent smudge on the pale-yellow walls. They must have had a cut price on this particular shade of yellow because I swear to God, every rental apartment I’d ever been into in Dublin was this same horrible shade. My apartment was small, the insulation rubbish like most Irish apartments, but it worked for now and was cheap.

  “I’d pay for my ma’s heart surgery,” Noah said in a quiet voice.

  I swallowed my bite of lamb kebab hard, wincing as it went down like a stone. Here I was frivolously talking about buying apartments when Noah just wanted to keep his ma alive. I set my kebab aside, hunger forgotten, and scooted over so that I was right up against Noah’s side. “What can I do?”

  He gave me a half smile. “Just be here. That’s enough.” He wound an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him.

  Noah wasn’t usually so affectionate, but he obviously needed the closeness today, so I laid my head on his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist. It felt good to be pressed up against his solid warm body. Really good. “There must be something I can do?”

  He let out a sigh and rested his chin on my head, his breath ruffling my hair. “I don’t even know what I should do.”

  I should be focusing on the problem. But all I could think was goddamn, he is ripped. I could feel the ridges of his six-pack along my forearm, the firmness of his pecs under my head. The biceps and sheer size of him have always been obvious with his clothes on and after his earlier shirtless display I knew exactly how defined his muscles were underneath.

  What would he look like totally naked? I stole a look down his torso and my gaze came to rest on the bulge in his pants. My cheeks heated. God of Thunder indeed.

  An idea struck me.

  “You could do a calendar and sell them to raise money or something,” I said before I could censor myself.

  “A what?”

  “You know, like one of those sexy fireman calendars.”

  He pulled back to look at me. “You think women would pay money for that?”

  “Hell yeah.” I followed a bunch of romance authors online because I liked their books and women always went crazy over the hot cover models. A lot of those models sold calendars and stuff. Noah could definitely give all of them a run for their money.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Would you would buy a calendar of me?”

  I felt my cheeks heat even more. Ah shit. I was so busted.

  Noah let out a chuckle. “You would.”

  “Well, yeah, to support you. And not just you,” I spluttered, trying to make this all less embarrassing, “all your brothers. A four hot Irish brothers calendar or something. Girls would eat it up.”

  Noah pursed his lips, a sign that he was thinking. “You know, that’s not half bad an idea.”

  I let out an internal sigh. Awkward line-crossing of our friendship averted. I grabbed the rest of my kebab and shoved it into my mouth to avoid any more embarrassing admissions.

  Noah

  “Policemen.”

  “Men in suits.”

  “Ooo!” Aubrey cried. “Irish cowboys. So hot right now.”

  I let out a chuckle. Sitting here joking around with Aubrey about sexy calendar themes made me feel lighter. She hadn’t left my side and so we were still cuddled up under my arm. The world and all its problems felt so much smaller this way.

  “We could wear actual cowboy hats,” I said, taking her concept and running with it.

&nbs
p; “Only cowboy hats. And boots.” She laughed and let out a snort looking up to me.

  My heart flipped when our eyes met. I wanted to lean down and kiss the shit out of her. But I couldn’t.

  Instead, I gave her shoulder a squeeze and said, “What would I do without you, Rey?”

  She giggled in that girlish way that wrapped around the base of my spine. “I know. I’m pretty awesome.”

  I grinned. “You being stood up was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  She rolled her eyes and pushed at my arm playfully. “Ass. You know Sean didn’t really stand me up. He got the dates mixed up.”

  Four years ago, I spotted her sitting on one of the stools alone at The Jar glaring at her phone, obviously having been stood up. She was a pretty girl so I did what I did with every pretty girl I saw while I was working behind the bar. I went up to her, served her a drink on the house and made her laugh. But by the end of the night, we were both in stitches. She was a little drunk and I was completely drunk on her.

  I’d walked her home after closing up and said goodbye to her at her front door. I’d cussed myself out all the way home and all the next day for not kissing her. For not claiming her then. I hesitated because…well, because I’d sensed even then that a kiss with her wouldn’t just be a kiss.

  Back then, I hadn’t been ready for it. But you’re never ready when you fall in love. That was the night I’d fallen in love with Aubrey Campbell. Even if I didn’t realize it at the time.

  If only I’d kissed her.

  Maybe she wouldn’t have accepted Sean’s apology in the form of generic red roses. Sunflowers were her favourite flowers.

  She wouldn’t have gone on that date with Sean the next day. Maybe she wouldn’t be his girlfriend.

  Fiancée.

  She was his fiancée now.

  Maybe I wouldn’t just be her friend.

  If I could turn back time…

  But I couldn’t.

  I tasted bitterness at the back of my throat. My fingers curled into Aubrey’s flesh and I was seconds away from kissing her the way I should have four years ago. But that would ruin everything. She was with another man. Our friendship would be over if I ever made a move on her. I would lose her. Forever. The thought of not having Aubrey in my life, even as friends, was too painful to bear. More painful than having to love her in secret.

  I pulled away from her suddenly, leaping to my feet. “I should go, Rey.”

  Her face flashed with disappointment and my heart ached. Because I knew there wasn’t anything underneath that disappointment other than she didn’t want her best friend to leave.

  “Okay.” She stood as well, wrapping her arms over her chest as if she were hugging herself, chewing her kissable bottom lip with her teeth. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I ran the hell out of there before I pulled her back into my arms.

  How fucking ironic.

  Noah O’Sullivan, one of Dublin’s biggest players, in love with the only girl he couldn’t have.

  Later that night in bed alone, I couldn’t get what Aubrey said out of my head.

  Like one of those fireman calendars…

  Ooo! Irish cowboys.

  My business brain ticked over what it might cost to get one of those calendars done up. We’d need a website and a budget for marketing… Then I considered what kind of profit margin could we make per calendar…and how many calendars we’d have to sell…

  Dammit, it wasn’t enough. Even if I could convince all three of my brothers to get involved in something like this.

  I’d be better off doing one of those charity auctions that sold me off for a “date night” with some rich woman.

  I’d do it, too. I’d do anything to get my ma that surgery. Any-fucking-thing.

  An idea struck me as I stared at the lottery ticket that Aubrey and I just bought sitting on my bedside table. An idea so damn crazy, it just might go viral.

  Not a charity auction.

  A lottery.

  But…not just any lottery.

  Noah

  “I have an idea on how to raise the money for ma’s surgery.”

  My three brothers blinked back at me from their various places around my living room. I’d called an emergency O’Sullivan brothers meeting and they’d all come in a flash.

  I was the eldest. Michael was next, only a year younger. He and I look most like our da, with sandy-blond hair and strong square jaws, aquiline noses and high foreheads. My eyes were blue like our ma’s, while his were green. I kept my hair longer and as my ma always says, “unruly,” while Michael’s was cropped short and always styled. Michael ended up as legal counsel to some of Ireland’s richest men. Which was why he was sitting in my living room in a tailored pinstripe suit, having just left work.

  Darren was next at twenty-three, two years younger than Michael. He’d always been the strong, silent type and good with his hands. He was still in his work overalls, a smudge of oil on his cheek, having come straight from his garage that specialized in motorbike repairs.

  Eoin was the youngest. He and Darren looked like our ma and had her dark hair and thick lashes, except their eyes were green like da’s. He was lounging in one of my armchairs in his rugby sweats, blades of grass in his damp hair, so I knew he’d just come from practice. Eoin might only be twenty-one but he was a rising star in Irish rugby. He was getting a reputation off the field, too.

  We were all so different in personality but we came together when it counted. I knew each one of these men had my back. I just hoped they’d agree with what I was about to propose…

  “I’m going to sell tickets to a lottery,” I announced.

  I was met with blank stares.

  I barreled on before anyone could interrupt, outlining my plan. The blank looks turned to frowns.

  “Hang on. Tickets to what now?” Michael spoke first.

  “To win a night with me,” I said. “To do whatever they want.”

  “You mean…sexually?” Michael asked, his voice going higher than usual.

  Darren let out a snort. “No, he’s going to play bridge with them. Of course, sexually, dipshite.”

  Michael shot Darren a glare.

  Darren just shrugged. Nothing rarely phased his cool façade.

  “You’re going to whore yourself out?” Eoin asked, his wide jade eyes on me.

  “Well, jeez,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck, “when you put it that way…”

  “That,” Eoin interrupted, “is fucking deadly. Getting paid to ride a hot rich chick…” He gyrated his hips.

  I rolled my eyes. Trust Eoin to turn this into a joke. I grabbed one of the open bags of Tayto crisps so I could throw something at him.

  Michael let out a snort. “It’d be more like some wrinkly old prune with cobwebs across her vag—”

  I threw the cheese and onion crisp at Michael’s head instead.

  He tried to catch it in his mouth and missed.

  “So what if she’s old?” I said. “If I raise the money ma needs for this surgery…”

  “Oh, shite,” Eoin said, his eyes widening as if he just thought of something. “What the feck is ma going to say?”

  “I won’t tell her.” I hated keeping where the money came from a secret. But it was better this way. Who cared about a little white lie if it kept her alive?

  “But—”

  “I’ll wear a mask on the promo shots and make the winner sign an NDA.”

  “An NDA?” Eoin asked.

  “A non-disclosure agreement, doofus. Even I know that,” Darren said.

  Eoin punched Darren in the arm, which kick-started a punch-off between them.

  “You think you can sell enough tickets?” Michael asked me. He had a serious look on his face.

  Out of the three of us, I figured he’d be the hardest to get on board with the plan. Even if he did get past the…controversial and extreme nature of the idea.

  “I think so. I ran the numbers. If I sell each ticket for five
euros, I’d only need to sell 50,000 to make enough to cover the operation.”

  Michael’s eyes bulged out of his head. “Fifty thousand tickets? Where the fuck are you going to find fifty thousand women who are desperate enough to fork out five euros for a mere chance at winning you? I mean, yeah, you pull the chicks alright, or at least you did when you hadn’t been dick-dazed by Aubrey yet—”

  “Hey!” I protested.

  “—but fifty thousand tickets?” Michael continued. “Shite on.”

  My shoulders fell, my idea souring before my eyes. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe I was an idiot to think I could sell fifty thousand tickets to this fantasy lottery.

  “What if we all do it?” Darren said.

  We all turned to look at him.

  “What?” I asked.

  “If one O’Sullivan brother is tempting enough,” Darren said slowly, “surely four O’Sullivan brothers will send ticket sales through the roof.”

  The rest of us O’Sullivan boys stared at Darren. Then at each other.

  All four brothers.

  One woman…

  Not something we’d ever done before.

  Jesus, not something we’d ever even considered before.

  “What if they don’t want all four of us in their fantasy?” Eoin finally piped up.

  Darren shrugged. “Then they don’t have to have all four. The winner gets to choose. Who, how many and what they want.”

  Winner’s choice of four brothers.

  Holy shit. My skin started to buzz the way it did when an idea had legs. This could work. This totally could work.

  “An anonymous sex lottery,” said Eoin, grinning.

  I could tell he was already keen.

  Although if his reputation was anything to go by, Eoin would sleep with almost anything in a skirt. “I’m so fucking in.”

  I looked at Darren. “Would you do it?”