Straight Up Irish
Page 8
Chapter Nine
Connor
I couldn’t remember the last time I slept on a girl’s couch.
Fallon Smith had me tossing and turning and thinking too much about her laugh and the way her lips curved when she smiled in her sleep. It also didn’t help that the springs of the couch were digging into my arse.
Sitting up, my muscles creaked with each movement. The designer said the chaise lounge was a practical choice for a studio, but practicality had shit to do with comfort.
Fumbling, I searched the side table until I found my phone. The bright light of the screen glinted in my eyes before I blinked a few times and saw it was barely past midnight. Too early to get up and start breakfast, and I’d wake Fallon up if I started working out.
I could just head to my brother’s, but I didn’t want her to think I was the kind of gobshite who would just leave a girl in the middle of the night. Though, I was precisely that kind of guy, to be honest. Only not with her.
She wasn’t just another prize. Hell, she was going to be my wife, even if it was a marriage to get my father’s company. That didn’t stop me from thinking about crawling into bed with her and doing anything but sleep.
Our arrangement and her “no sex” rule were always on my mind. I wished I never agreed to that one. But it helped her to go through with all of this. Now I was stuck, wide awake with blue balls.
I absently opened Instagram and searched for Fallon Smith.
The blond beauty popped up immediately. I’d friended her after our first phone conversation and made sure to get a few jabs in on our daily phone calls about how boring her pictures were. Guilt wrenched in my chest at realizing how much of a jerk I had been, not knowing she had nothing else to take photos of, since she had been cooped up in this flat with nothing else to do.
Clicking on her profile, I stared at her main picture and gorgeous smile. The only problem with the photo was the eejit next to her in a stained T-shirt and ball cap, who wasn’t even smiling. I guessed that was the ex-boyfriend. I made a mental note to tell her to change the picture.
Clicking on the photo, I found the page of Ray Stiles from Chicago, Illinois.
His feed was full of pictures of him at the pub, holding that piss-colored American beer.
How could he ever have let her go? His loss was my gain.
“What are you doing?” Fallon’s groggy voice carried through the room. Her head tilted upward with her body still cocooned in the blankets of her bed.
“Not exactly the most comfortable couch I’ve ever slept on.”
The shifting of her body squeaked the springs of the bed. In the dim light from the window, I barely made out the shape of her body as she got into a sitting position. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“It’s your bed, and I’m not a waster. It’ll be time to wake up soon, anyway, so I’ll go to Spar or Supermacs in a few hours for rashers and coffee,” I said, shaking my head.
She groaned. “I’ll scoot over if you agree to put on some pants before getting in bed.”
“Did you just invite me to sleep with you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t get too excited. I don’t want to feel you on my leg in the middle of the night, so put on your pants and get over here.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. Keeping this platonic was going to be hard as hell if I had to sleep in bed with her. But she did offer, and if I was going to be at my best for work, I needed a proper night’s sleep.
Standing up, I scanned the floor for my trousers. “If you don’t want it on your leg, what about other places? There are plenty of things we can do other than sleep,” I said, finding my pants and walking toward her.
I was right over her bed when she finally turned toward me. She may have been makeup-free and squinting without her glasses, but in the dim light, she was still absolutely gorgeous.
“Put that thing away before I change my mind,” she grumbled, her eyes going straight to my boxers. She may have said the words, but her gaze lingered a little too long to be upset with seeing me at half-mast.
“Only because I like you,” I said, keeping my eyes on hers and smiling while I put on my trousers.
“No funny business,” she muttered, scooting toward the wall.
I pulled back the covers and climbed in beside her, keeping a hair’s distance between us. I’d been in bed with many women, but no other had made my heart beat faster and a wave of nervous energy flood through me without even touching.
“Good night, pinky. If you change your mind, I’ll be right here.”
“Night,” she murmured, that one word the last thing I heard before I finally fell back to sleep.
…
“Up and at ’em, sleeping beauty.”
A white fast food bag dropped on my bare stomach. Fallon flitted through the living room fully dressed in a pink skirt and white blouse with her hair and makeup done.
“What time is it? How the hell did I sleep in through you showering and leaving? I could have just cooked us breakfast, you know?” I sat up and placed the bag on the floor next to me.
“Cooking would require things like pots and pans. Or food for that matter. Besides, I was up, and it wouldn’t hurt you to let me do something nice for you in return once in a while,” she said, slipping on a pair of beige heels.
“What?” I growled, standing up and crossing the room, gently tugging her arm so she’d face me.
She frowned. “I, uh… I said that sometimes I want to be nice to you. Don’t let that get to your head, though; it’s not going to happen all the time.”
Clenching my teeth, I forced a deep breath in. “I meant the pots and pans. Why don’t you have any?”
She shrugged, her face and the bravado now fallen. “Guess I don’t bake much.”
“You should have proper pots, pans. Feck, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that when I was ordering your furniture. I’ll take care of that today. Stock the fridge and cupboards, too.”
She shook her head fiercely. “You don’t need to do any of that.”
“For one, I want to, and two, you’re my girl, agreement or not. I’m here to take care of you.”
“Do you know how caveman that sounds? I’m not your girl, and I don’t need another dad. The one I have is shitty enough as it is.” She rolled her eyes.
I grimaced, replaying in my head what little I knew of her family. “I’m not trying to be your father. I’m your future husband and a very wealthy man. If I want to spend money on you, I can and I will.”
“You’re going overboard. You don’t have to do any of this.”
I took a step closer, tilting my chin to look down at her through hooded lashes. “I want to. Just because you came here to help your grandmother doesn’t mean you need to continue to live with nothing. You have me now.”
Her mouth parted slightly, her tongue running along her bottom lip. I waited for her to say something, though I wanted nothing more than to lean in and press my mouth to hers. Before I could get the chance, she stepped back and cleared her throat. “Um. I need to head to work. Are you going that way, too?”
“I can walk you there, but then I have to head to my brother’s place to change and shower first. Wait for me for lunch?” I asked, sliding on my shirt. The more I pushed, the more she pulled away, and with this much at stake, I had to tread carefully.
“Yeah. I can do that,” she said with a tight smile.
And what a damn beautiful smile it was.
…
After walking Fallon to work, I headed to Jack’s to get ready for the day. Since my brother was already gone, and I didn’t have any meetings, I headed to Tesco and loaded my Jeep with essentials for the flat.
After filling her cabinets, I finally made my way to the office, after picking up one last item that I didn’t mention to her before.
“Here you go,” I said, sliding a smartphone in a pink glittery case across Fallon’s desk.
“Aw, Conno
r, I’m glad you’re trying to match me, but I’m more of a pale pink girl,” she said, turning her chair toward me and pointing at her skirt.
I knew very well what color it was because I’d imagined it pooled at her ankles on the floor.
“This is your new phone. I put you on my plan today. There is also a new tablet in the mail on the way to your nana’s. She was listed as the next of kin in the company system. But I added myself in, since I’m not in a different country.” I smirked, sitting on the corner of her desk with my hands folded.
“What? Why? I have a phone. And pretty sure it’s illegal for you to look at my records like that.” She glared, but a hint of a smile played on her lips.
“I assure you, it’s not. This way you can video chat with your nana anywhere, especially when we travel. Hard to do that when your only phone with an international plan is the company one.”
“How do you know I’m not just going to rack up your bill with phone calls? I could go over your data limit by watching cooking shows.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I know you don’t watch cooking shows, since you don’t cook.” I leaned in, pushing a fallen piece of hair behind her ear watching her suck in a breath.
Our eyes met, and my heart banged in my chest. What the hell was going on with me? I wasn’t the guy who got all fluttery over brushing a girl’s cheek.
Jack’s door flew open and hit the wall behind it, causing Fallon to gasp and scoot back, breaking our connection.
“Connor. A word?” Jack asked gruffly.
“I was in the middle of a conversation with your beautiful assistant,” I said, slowly moving my gaze from hers to my scowling brother.
“Stop bothering Fallon and get in my office, now,” he spat like the beast he was.
I put my hands up. “I’m not your employee. Hell, we’re in this together, even though you shoved me in a janitor’s closet as my temporary office. Think I can get something with a better view? Maybe in this general vicinity?” I moved my arms in a circle, encompassing Fallon’s desk.
Jack groaned. “Can we just talk. In my office. Alone. Please?”
“Thank you for saying please.” I smirked then stood up, tapping on Fallon’s desk. “I’ll see you for lunch after I’m done talking to the beast.”
She didn’t even look up from her computer as I walked into my brother’s office and he shut the door behind us.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You didn’t come home last night, then I find you sitting on my assistant’s desk? She’s one of the best assistants I’ve ever had. Don’t muck that up. Shouldn’t you be looking for a wife? Even a pretend one at this point?” Jack snarled before taking the seat in his leather desk chair.
“Maybe I plan on proposing to Fallon,” I said, leaning on the desk casually.
Jack laughed, but there was no humor to it. “Fallon? There is no way she would go for a guy like you.”
“She already has. If you haven’t noticed, we’ve been dating. And when I didn’t come home last night it was because I was with her—well, on her couch.” I wouldn’t disrespect her in front of my brother, no matter how much I wanted to give him a poke.
“What the hell are you trying to pull? Are you scheming to gain the trust of that poor American girl so that you can get your inheritance and a place at this company? Make my assistant your pretend wife?” His voice rose, and his forehead crinkled.
“Didn’t you just suggest I find some girl to marry and do exactly that?” I raised an eyebrow.
We’d always been in direct competition and gave each other a hard time for everything. I wasn’t going to back down, and I knew for shite he wasn’t, either.
“You’re not serious, are you? Are you planning a ruse with my assistant?” His brow furrowed.
My muscles tightened, but I kept my face neutral in response.
“Sorry, Jack. It’s all real,” I said with a pang of guilt gnawing in my chest. The last thing I wanted to do was lie to my brother, but the fewer people who knew about Fallon’s and my arrangement, the better. “I’m very much into her. Hence the sleeping on her couch out of respect for her. She’s an amazing woman.”
I took a step forward, crossing my arms over my chest. “She’s also an excellent assistant. You should probably give her a raise. She’s the only one out there who works instead of staring at her phone. Her CV is very impressive. I can see her going places in this company, with or without me. Maybe even back to America to take my position when I step up as CFO.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You can drive a man to drink. You know that?”
His brow stayed crinkled as if there was more he wanted to say but couldn’t think of the right way to phrase it.
I took his silence as my chance to escape more of the awkward conversation. “Maybe we can continue this conversation after our call with the district managers in London. I have a lunch date.”
“Just don’t muck this up, okay? She’s one of the best employees we’ve ever had. As you said, she is a hard worker, and maybe I will take a look at that CV. We can discuss the American position later. We’ll need someone to cover the job if you’re going to stay here, and I’ll need a new assistant.”
Heading toward the door, I looked over my shoulder before turning the knob. “You definitely will when she’s Mrs. Connor Murphy.”
Chapter Ten
Fallon
To keep my mind off what Connor might be telling my boss, I decided to text Leah.
Me: Leah. It’s Fallon. I have a new phone. Nana is getting a new tablet, too. Think you can help her set it up?
Leah: That explains the long ass number. I thought you weren’t going to get a new phone since this job was only temporary? And how the hell are you affording things like new phones and tablets for Nana? Did you finally get a raise?
Me: Connor sort of got it for me.
Leah: Connor? The hot guy from your apartment who is your boss’s brother and “just friends?”
I sighed. How did I explain Connor to my best friend? The truth was stranger than any fiction, and if I really wanted this whole agreement to work, could I tell her? Either way, I needed to talk to someone, even without giving the nitty-gritty details.
Me: Can you talk? Maybe a video chat tonight after work?
Leah: *sigh* Okay. But I better get some good details.
“And to think, I was just bragging to my brother, a.k.a. your boss, about how good of an employee you are, and now you’re texting under your desk.” Connor’s smooth voice knocked me out of my trance.
“It was just one message,” I quipped, sliding it in my drawer.
Every time he was near me, I swore my heart beat faster. How the hell did he know how to get to me? Probably because he had a lot of practice with other women, like the waitress at the pub.
And now I was with this man who furnished my apartment. Who took me out for more dinners in a few days than Ray ever did. A man who wanted to marry me, even if it was for an inheritance.
And he wanted to do dirty things, which, if I were honest, were at the forefront of my brain most of the day.
Dammit. Why did he have to show me those tattoos and accept my offer to sleep in the bed?
The nagging “this is just temporary” in my head kept coming back to me. I couldn’t jeopardize this for Murphy Pubs or my nana. If there really was a divorce settlement in this, I could be home by Christmas, giving Nana the greatest gift—a secure future and job for myself back home. But that future didn’t include Connor.
Why the hell was I thinking about anything past six months with him?
“You ready for lunch?” Connor asked, knocking me out of my reverie.
“Um. It’s early, don’t you think?” I asked, clearing my throat.
“Yeah. But I’m starving, and Jack and I have a call later that’s going to test every single ounce of patience I have. I need something to make me smile before that.”
“I guess, since you asked so nicely, I can take a lunch.�
� He put his arm out, and I took his hand like we’d been doing the past few days. It was so automatic that I could almost forget we were playing pretend. Almost.
…
We walked down Grafton Street near Trinity College. The place bustled with street performers and musicians in front of every restaurant and shop.
At a little deli, we each had a sandwich, then slowly made our way back to work.
“So this is how many dates now? When are you going to marry me?” Connor asked, knocking me out of the trance I’d slipped into while watching a juggler.
I shook my head then leaned in close to him so the juggler and other performers couldn’t hear us. “You can’t just randomly ask that. I’ve never been proposed to before, but I don’t think that’s how you do it.”
“Then, how should I?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, and a small smile crossed his face.
I shrugged. “Roses. Flowers. Romance. Maybe a cheap ring. That is, if you want to make it believable for the board,” I said, quickly correcting myself so he didn’t think I was trying to take advantage of him in that way.
Though, a tiny part of me already loved the little ways he showed he cared. This wasn’t real, but my stomach fluttered with excitement whenever he surprised me with something new.
“So if I did that—all of that—you’re telling me we can get on with this wedding planning? Because I have a buddy who is a priest, and he’d be more than happy to marry us ASAP.”
“Is this how you talk to all of your girlfriends?” I asked, glancing in the window of a cosmetics store.
“I can’t remember the last real girlfriend I had,” he muttered.
There went that choking thing again, and this time I had to pound my fist on my chest before I stopped walking and turned toward him, speaking in a scratchy voice, “Are you serious?”
“What?”
“Not having a girlfriend. I thought those were just rumors, or maybe some girl broke your heart in boarding school and you can’t stop brooding over her.” I turned my attention to the street instead of him.