by Magan Vernon
“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Her words trailed off.
“I don’t remember much about Mam. I was two, and Sean was only a few days old. I don’t know exactly what happened, besides some internal bleeding, since Da was vague on the details,” I said, taking a long pull of my beer. I’d never shared this information with another soul, not even my best mates in school. “But he did the best for us that he could. I just wish he would have told us all about this marriage contract.”
“That would have been helpful. But then again, if you hadn’t been surprised, we probably wouldn’t have started talking. I guess that’s a good thing.” She tripped over her words before taking a sip of her beer.
I smiled, trying to lighten the conversation. “I believe you’re starting to fancy me.”
“I’ll admit, you have your moments. If you keep cooking, I might keep you around for a bit. I can help out, too.”
“Really? Maybe one of these days you can learn to cook, too. I wouldn’t mind some American grub. Nothing like a good box of macaroni and cheese.” I raised my eyebrows.
“I never even learned to make that. Mom was more of a fast food or gas station hot dog kind of lady. The only thing I learned to do with a spoon was lick it and stick it to my nose. That can keep a girl busy for hours when you have nothing else to do and your parents didn’t pay the cable bill so you’re stuck inside during a Chicago winter,” she rambled before stuffing her mouth full of food like she was trying to shut herself up.
I couldn’t imagine what her life was like, or how she turned into such a selfless woman. Her nana was one hell of a lady to help raise her. I never thought about the financial or home life of the girls I shagged. The deeper I got to know Fallon, the more challenging it became to think about the end of all of this.
She was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. She deserved a guy who could treat her just as well. I didn’t want to be like Da or even Jack. They were always focused on the company instead of their love lives. Murphy men were cut out for running companies, not marriage. Which was why the understanding Fallon and I had would work out grand, and neither of us would get hurt in the end.
I had to keep reminding myself of that.
“I think we could go all night swapping shitty parent stories, but let’s talk about something less depressing. How was your day? And not the part where you worked or took phone calls for my brother,” I said, forcing a smile to change the subject.
She blinked quickly, twirling her fork on her plate, then cleared her throat before responding. “I did get to use my new phone. Leah was excited to get to message me again. Then we had a video call, and she admired the decorating. You didn’t have to do all of this. We’ll both be moving out of this apartment soon, and it’s all just…well…it’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
I smirked, sticking my fork in my food, trying to be nonchalant. “Technically, a designer did that. I just told them what I wanted.”
“You paid for it. You made this place a little homier. Which is a good thing, since we’re roommates now.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you want to call this?”
“I’m sure you have a more creative name you’re going to share,” she quipped before taking another bite of her food.
There were a lot of dirty things I wanted to say, but instead, I shook my head.
“We can start with roommates before fiancée and then wife.”
I leaned in, putting my hand on her knee. I told myself it was just friendly, even though her leg gently shifted under my touch, and my skin warmed against her.
I thought she’d say something smart or swat me away. But she let me keep my hand there as we ate the rest of our dinner together in a comfortable silence.
…
After doing dishes, we sat together on the sofa. Some American comedy played on the television. I draped my arm over the back of the couch, and Fallon leaned her body toward mine; our feet stretched out together on the chaise.
It was as if we’d done this a million times. Like we were an ordinary couple, enjoying a night in.
Every time she moved closer, I wanted to rip those damn pants off and finish what we started on the floor earlier. I longed to track every curve of her body, to hear her make those little moans.
But I’d already pushed her once. If we were just going to be pals, then so be it. I could have picked a much worse woman to hang out with than her.
I zoned out at some point, with the program and the bad American acting. Then I caught myself before I drifted off to sleep. I leaned forward and noticed Fallon’s head curled to the side with her eyes closed.
I didn’t know how long she had been asleep, but I wasn’t going to make her stay on the couch all night.
I turned off the television then slowly stood up. Then, I crouched down and cradled her in my arms, lifting her in a fireman’s carry.
She yawned but didn’t stir until I laid her on the bed.
“What are you doing?” She moaned, stretching before I pulled the comforter to her chest.
“Tucking you into bed. Like a good roommate,” I whispered, pushing a fallen strand of hair behind her ear.
She gently grabbed my hand, opening her beautiful blue eyes. “I was going to sleep on the couch and let you have the bed.”
I smiled, brushing my thumb along the soft skin of her cheek. “Pinky, I’m not going to make you do that.”
“Then I’ll move over. You stay here. You shouldn’t have to take the couch because of me,” she murmured, scooting toward the wall.
“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do,” I whispered.
“I want you here with me. Not anything more than sleep, though.”
I nodded, not needing to be asked twice, before shucking my pants off.
Sliding under the covers, she leaned closer, pressing her forehead to mine. Just from her little touch, my body warmed.
“Thanks for telling me more about you today. I know that wasn’t easy,” she whispered into my mouth before gently pressing her lips to mine.
I took her sweet, close-mouthed kiss then put my arm around her, still tasting her on my lips, my heart beating wildly against her skin.
Yep. Blue balls again. But this was the best place I’d ever laid my head.
Chapter Twelve
Fallon
I’d been sharing a bed with Connor for almost two weeks.
There was some cuddling and very chaste goodnight kisses, but nothing more. But, oh hell, did I want there to be more. I had to keep telling myself that he was just a playboy who was using me to get his family business.
At least, that’s how this all started. Now, for me, it was turning into something more than the money and security he offered. If nothing else, the guy was one of my best and only friends in Ireland.
We watched movies together, he made dinner, and there was a lot of flirting. But there was an invisible line I’d drawn.
He was the perfect package, all wrapped up in a shamrock shaped bow. But he would only break my heart. He’d never be a one-woman kind of man.
Leah: Have you gotten Connor’s lucky shamrock yet?
I rolled my eyes.
Me: No.
I closed out of Leah’s message window and opened the conversation with Ray that we’d had over the past week. He’d started to message me more frequently, or maybe it had always been like this. I just noticed it more when Connor asked who was blowing up my phone. I continually lied and said it was Leah.
He always had a little sneer whenever he saw Ray’s name pop up on my computer or phone. He never said anything about it, but he would then comment on the same Instagram photo Ray did, like he wanted to stake his claim.
All for show. That was what I had to keep telling myself. He wasn’t jealous of Ray. He just wanted to make sure the board and whoever else knew we were a couple.
Ray: Morning! It’s beautiful here in Chicago
today. I’m not sure what’s blooming, but it smells great. It reminds me of all of the blooms on the quad from that Halloween I visited you at ISU. I miss that, Fal. When are you coming home?
I tried not to come off as too much of a bitch, but it was hard when he wasn’t getting the picture that we were over and now I had feelings for someone else.
Ray: Sorry for waking you up earlier. Maybe we can video chat tonight.
That message was from two days ago, and I never messaged him back. Flat-out telling him I was busy, or that we were better off as friends, wasn’t working.
I opened an app on my phone and clicked on my profile. The current photo was of Ray and me. I’d completely forgotten I hadn’t changed it. I pressed the “update profile picture” button and scrolled through my photos. I zeroed in on one of Connor and me. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when or where the photo was taken, but from his dimpled smile and my cheesy one, wherever we were, we at least appeared happy.
Connor had changed my life for the better. Even if it was temporary and fake, he’d been good for me.
“Plans for Saturday, pinky?” he asked, taking a seat at the corner of my desk.
“Um. Reality TV marathon with you?” I squeaked, trying to keep my tone even. But he’d caught me off guard.
He flashed those damn irresistible dimples.
The one time I had the chance to go further, when he bit my lip while stretching me, was pure ecstasy. Every part of me wanted him, but I kept resisting.
“As much as I know you’d love to catch up on that island show or whatever you’re watching now, we haven’t gone out in a while. My brother Sean has a game in town, so the whole Murphy family is going.”
“The whole family? You mean you and Jack?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and pointing between him and his brother’s closed office door.
“And you. And my Aunt Colleen, her husband Robert, and their sons John and James. Oh, and my Aunt Isla with her husband, Nick. I think their daughters are home from uni, so they’ll be there as well.”
I widened my eyes. “Your extended family? You want me to meet your aunts and…?”
The bright white smile broadened on his face as he put his hand on mine, sending a wave of heat straight below my belt. “You’ll have to meet them sometime, and they’re gonna love you.”
“I just didn’t know we were to that…um…point,” I stammered, swallowing hard. We never discussed many details of the fake wedding. Just a few small business items, like the large sum he would have me awarded in a prenuptial agreement and a possible job offer I wasn’t even sure I wanted in Chicago.
I figured we would try and keep it small and private. I never thought about meeting his family.
A pain tightened in my throat. Guilt had been riding me about not telling Leah or Nana what was going on. It was going to be even worse if I had to lie to his extended family.
“We can get to that point. What is this now, date number forty? Do our nights together count as dates? We’re pushing May if we want to book the castle for June,” he said, squeezing my hand.
“You’re getting good at this romance thing, Murphy. Next thing I know you’ll suggest my bridesmaids wear puffy sleeves and you wear a cummerbund.”
“If you want to go with your American traditions, I’ll see if the priest will allow them. Should I call and say we set a date?”
I forced a smile. “Don’t call anyone yet. We have a big family rugby game to go to first.”
…
I wasn’t exactly sure what one wore to a Rugby match, and that question was answered when I got out of the shower. A pair of jeans and a green shirt with a shamrock on it lay on my bed, with Connor nowhere to be found.
I picked up the jeans, noticing they weren’t my old faded ones I’d been wearing forever. I held up the waistband and put them to my body. But then balked when I glanced at the 299 euro price tag. I didn’t think I’d ever spent that much on anything, except maybe books for school.
Setting the jeans down on the bed, I found a shoebox that the other clothes had been on top of.
“I guess this is how a billionaire dresses down,” I said to myself, quickly putting on the new jeans and T-shirt, looking at my reflection in the small mirror near my desk.
This was the first weekend I was doing something real, like my nana wanted—for me to have an adventure. I was finally seeing more of the country I’d resided in the past six months. And all of this was because of Connor.
The guy I wasn’t supposed to be falling for, and I definitely was.
“Damn, I knew those jeans would look grand on your arse.”
I yelped, turning around to find him leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.
He usually dressed in tailored suits, but the man looked especially sexy dressed down in faded blue jeans, a green rugby jersey and white, backward hat.
Ray always wore a ball cap, and it did nothing for me. But on Connor, it was a sexy, laid-back look that made me want to take it off his head and run my fingers through his hair.
“You didn’t have to buy these for me. I have clothes,” I said, trying not to let my voice waver.
“I couldn’t have you going to the game wearing the wrong color jersey. Then I figured you needed the pants and the shoes, too.”
I shook my head, guilt washing through me. “I’m never going to be able to pay you for all of this.”
“You don’t have to, and you know that. Now, stop complaining, just say ‘thank you,’ and let’s get moving.”
“You’re pushy.”
“If you want pushy, I can be pushy,” he said with a playful growl before darting forward.
My heart pounded in anticipation of his next move. I gasped when instead of ravaging me, he picked me up right underneath my knees and threw me over his shoulder before spinning me around.
I laughed, tapping my hands against his back. “Put me down.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t hear you. I’m too distracted by this beautiful arse.” One hand went to my butt, smacking it lightly, and I let out a little yelp.
When it was just us joking around like this, I could forget about ex-boyfriends, his former flings, and impending marriage contracts.
This was how I liked us. How I always wanted it to be.
Stop thinking like that. There is no always.
My computer beeped and alerted me that I had an incoming video message, killing our little moment. A bitter taste curled in my mouth when I turned toward the screen and saw Ray’s number pop up.
“That the ex-boyfriend calling, again?” Connor asked flatly.
“Yeah, but I’ll ignore it,” I said quickly.
He gently set me on the ground, his arms steady on my waist. “You sure? Want me to answer instead?”
I frowned, thinking of Ray’s reaction to seeing Connor on the screen instead of me. By now he had to have seen the photos of the two of us together. All of my friends commented on every picture, asking who the hottie was. I didn’t have an answer for Ray or anyone else. Because I wasn’t even sure myself what we really were.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
…
I’d never been to a rugby match, or any professional sporting event, even though I lived in Chicago.
Ray went to a lot of Cubs games—or more like bars near the games. But he didn’t invite me. That was his thing with the guys, and I always accepted that. Now I realized that there could be something more to a relationship. A man who wanted me to join him, even if he was just making a show for the marriage agreement. For just a moment, I pretended this was real.
Connor opened the passenger door of his Jeep for me, and once I was in, he slid into his side. He put his hand on mine, intertwining our fingers before bringing our hands to his lips and kissing my knuckles. “We have to pick up my Aunt Colleen and her sons, since my uncle’s working. They’re going to have a lot of questions about my American girlfriend, so I apologize in advance for whatever they say.”
“Um. O
kay,” I stammered, my mouth going dry.
“We’ll be there soon.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, with that dimpled smile making an appearance before he pulled out of his parking spot.
We drove away from the city center, the first time I’d ventured to this party of the city since I first moved in.
Now I was living every girl’s fantasy, except for the lack of real intimacy from my sexy fake boyfriend. Even just holding his hand on the car ride had me weak in the knees. Once all of this was over, I had no idea how I’d survive without his touch.
Well, get used to it.
Connor drove out of the city and down the hills. He pulled in front of a small farmhouse surrounded by a stone fence.
Before he could get out of the car to go to the front door, two little redheaded boys ran outside wearing matching green jerseys.
“Maaaaaa. Connor’s here! And he has some blond bird with him,” one of the boys yelled, so loud that it rattled the car windows.
“Boys. Shut the door before you run out to the yard. You weren’t raised in a barn,” a short, middle-aged woman with curly red hair and stout stature yelled out the front door. Then she shuffled onto the sidewalk behind the boys.
Connor unbuckled his seat belt. “You’re in for a treat, and possibly some birth control.”
Jumping out of the car, he went to the passenger side and hugged the woman, who I presumed was Aunt Colleen.
The boys didn’t bother to say anything and threw open the back door. They slid in and stared at me with wide green eyes.
“Are you the one who Ma says has the fanny of gold?” one of the boys, who probably wasn’t more than twelve, asked.
Connor was an ass man for sure, but mine wasn’t that good. Or full of money for that matter. The fact the boys thought this had my neck burning, and I immediately tucked my chin in to bury my face.
The older woman got in the car, pushing her boys to the side. “What did I tell you kids about using that word? And about repeating things your mam says?”
