by Magan Vernon
Patrick flipped the pages in his bible. “For the Americans here, I’ll be reading the English text instead of Irish.”
Leah gave him a thumbs-up, and everyone in the crowd laughed before Patrick cleared his throat and put his hand to his forehead.
After a short prayer, we began our vows. Patrick put his hand down and looked between Fallon and me.
“Connor and Fallon, you are about to celebrate this sacrament. Have you come here of your own free will and choice, and without compulsion, to marry each other?”
Before we could answer, a loud bang clattered behind us, and we, along with the rest of the crowd, faced the double doors of the church. A man in a Cubs baseball cap and a wrinkled dress shirt with jeans stood, now approaching the altar. “Imma call bullshit on that one. Sorry for the swearing, Father priest,” he said in a scratchy voice, waving to Patrick.
“Ray? Did you invite him, too?” Fallon’s wide eyes glanced between the haggard fellow and me.
“No, but I have no problem asking him to leave,” I growled, stepping forward to come toe-to-toe with the man who smelled like smoke and body odor. He was at least six inches shorter than me, and it had been a while since I’d been boxing, but I had no problem taking him outside and kicking his arse.
“Ray, just get out of here. Please,” Fallon whispered, choking on her own words.
As if things couldn’t get worse, he got down on his knees, looking up at the open-mouthed Fallon. “Fal, I know we’ve had our outs. This guy may be rich and really good looking, but why him, Fal? What does he have that I don’t? Well…besides those first things I said.” The crowd whispered, and I looked from Fallon’s flushed face, now locked on the ground, to Ray staring at her. The anger that was festering now fully erupted, and I clenched my fists, ready to cold cock him.
The only thing stopping me was Jack, holding his arm out. I raised an eyebrow, and Jack shook his head. I fumed, my nostrils flaring.
“What?” Ray held his arms out. “You don’t even know him like you do me. Did he knock you up or something? Or is this about money? You aren’t a gold digger, Fal. That isn’t you. But when you hung up on me, I got to thinking, and I couldn’t stop. I’d been watching your profile, and then I saw the ring photos Leah posted. Just say it ain’t so. You don’t need him and his money to be happy.”
“I am deleting every piece of social media I have,” Leah muttered.
“You need to leave, Ray. I don’t know what you’re trying to get at here, but this is our day,” I growled, pushing past Jack with my hands clenched at my sides.
Ray laughed like a hyena, getting to his feet. “This is horseshit. My girl comes to Ireland for a job, breaks up with me once this rich guy comes in the picture, and now what? Now I’m just supposed to take it?”
Without even thinking where I was or the audience we had, I pulled my hand back then connected my fist with Ray’s jaw, causing him to stumble backward.
“That one’s for upsetting my future wife in the house of the Lord,” I barked, talking slow steps toward him. Then I grabbed onto one of his shoulders, pulling him upright before punching the other cheek, the crack of something breaking echoing through the room.
“That one’s for ever thinking you were good enough for Fallon.”
He winced, leaning over and grabbing his jaw. I took that moment to grab both shoulders and knee him the groin before he let out a loud yelp then fell backward. “And that one was for me.”
The crowd fell silent as I let out a breath. “Come on Fallon. We’ll have Jack take out the trash then let’s get married.”
Turning around, I looked to where Fallon had been standing, only to see her spot empty.
“Where is she?” I called, looking around the room and yelling over the sound of Ray whimpering. Every hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and dread ached in my gut.
“She left out the back door,” Leah said in a soft voice.
“What?” I yelled, my eyes wide, stomping toward Leah.
“She left, Connor. She couldn’t take the embarrassment. I think everything had just been bubbling for so long that…”
I raked my fingers through my hair and looked at Patrick and my brothers shaking their heads.
I nodded to Leah then straightened my tie, trying not to look at the state of my knuckles. Adrenaline still coursed through me, and if there was one thing I’d learned today, it was that I would do anything to keep what was important to me, whether it be a company or a girl.
“Then I guess I need to go find her.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Fallon
First, my parents smiling from the pew.
Then Nana whispering that she was so happy to be alive to see me walk down the aisle.
I wasn’t sure I could take any more emotion rippling through me, but then Ray showed up.
I’d just wanted the wedding to go smoothly. Hell, to just get it over with, at this point. Then the reality of everything came crashing down, and I was left embarrassed in front of my colleagues and what was supposed to be my future family.
Now I sat on the floor of my former flat in a poufy wedding dress, drinking whiskey, and eating a pint of caifé ice cream that Sean must have left in the freezer.
I’d thought I was at my lowest when I was sitting in an empty flat, eating peanut butter and jelly for every meal, but I was pretty sure this was an all-new low.
I left as soon as Ray started talking about money. I didn’t even hear Connor’s response or what he said to justify all of this. I thought Ray and I were completely over and he had moved on. But I guess he had a lot of time on his hands, more now that he didn’t have to worry about trying to get me back. And he was more pissed off about our little chat than I initially thought. I shouldn’t have said anything at all and just ignored him. I shouldn’t have let him know anything about Connor, or find out about his money. Then none of his conclusions would have been made, and none of this would have happened.
But now that it had, the embarrassment was done. There was no way Connor and I could ever be together again without people thinking it was for money. I would give up all of the money and sign whatever prenuptial agreement I had to if I could just have him. If all this could be real. I wished he never approached me about the marriage contract, but spilled coffee on my dress and simply wanted to be with me. That little pink dress that was ruined by coffee stains, but I still kept because it was the one I met him in. The one that gave me the nickname only he called me: pinky.
This wasn’t just about money anymore, and I knew that all along. But I tried to clamp those feelings down. Now it was too late. There was no way I could be with Connor, even temporarily.
Halfway through the bottle and the pint of ice cream, which I soon realized was Irish coffee and whiskey together, my stomach churned.
Crying wasn’t going to do anything, and neither was eating any more ice cream. Last time I was this down and desperate was when I applied for the job as Jack’s assistant and that had led me here.
I didn’t regret coming to Ireland, only that I didn’t tell Connor I wanted more from our relationship.
A knock came at the door, which I thought must be Leah coming to check on me. Or maybe even my parents to make the situation even worse.
“Door’s unlocked,” I yelled, trying to stand up. But everything spun around me, so I plopped back down with the frilly white dress falling around me.
“What did I tell you about leaving the door unlocked?” A familiar deep, accented voice called before Connor’s loafers hit the wood floor.
He stood at the opposite end of the room, still in his suit and holding a large brown paper bag.
“What are you doing here?” I muttered, trying to stare at his shoes instead of his dimpled face. A rush coursed through me, the spinning in my head now a dull ache.
He approached me inch by inch until he plopped down and set the brown bag in my lap.
“What’s this? A bag of money or something?” I a
sked. “Way to go, let’s just make the rumors that everyone’s probably whispering true.”
“I don’t know if you meant to say that out loud, but I’ll let you have that,” he said before pulling out a bottle of Mountain Dew and placing it in my shaking hands.
“What is this?” I asked, staring at the bottle then leaning forward to look inside the bag. “Twinkies, Twizzlers, and Cheetos?” I asked, holding the little orange bag in my hand and finally looking at Connor and his forlorn expression.
A quirk of a smile graced his lips. “I finally found these sweets and Mountain Dew at the store. I didn’t think you’d accept jewelry or flowers or any gifts. Besides, American snack food is way better than any of those things.”
“What if I’m allergic?” I asked, trying to keep up a front, but my heart swelled.
His hand moved to mine, his fingers grazing over my ring, which I still hadn’t taken off. “The only thing you’re allergic to is ragweed, which is why I stocked up the cabinets with Benadryl this spring. Your favorite food is anything chocolate, and your favorite musician is Ed Sheeran. Even though you pretend to be a hard rock girl, your playlist is full of his music.”
“How?” I whispered, tears springing to my eyes as emotion shook my entire body.
He moved his free hand to my cheek, wiping a tear that must have escaped. “Because I love you, Fallon.”
“You do?” I gasped, my lips trembling.
That dimpled grin spread across his face. “For a very long time. I should have probably said this all earlier instead of waiting until you ran out of our wedding. I shouldn’t have kept all of this inside because I was afraid of what would happen with our temporary arrangement. But I can’t hide these feelings anymore. I love you, and I hope that you love me, too.”
“But Ray…the wedding…ugh,” I sputtered, my head spinning.
He put his other hand on my cheek, cupping my face and forcing me to look into his beautiful blue eyes. “I made sure Ray will never come around again. And everyone at work, they know I love you. They’ve known it since the day I met you. I was the dumb arse who took forever to figure it out.
“I don’t want to lose you.” He pressed his lips to my forehead, and I closed my eyes. “If we need to hold off the wedding for another year, get to know each other, let’s do it. Whatever I can do to keep you as mine, I’ll wait as long as I have to. As long as I can have you in the end.”
“I love you, too.” I squeaked, slowly opening my eyes to meet his.
He grinned. “Really, pinky?”
I nodded, a new course of adrenaline bursting through me. I’d been trying to clamp down these thoughts for so long; now I could voice them. Now we were free. This was real. “Really.”
There was nothing else that words could say, so I pressed my lips to his, feeling his warm mouth as his tongue met mine.
I moaned, putting my hands on his face as he wrapped his arms around my waist, deepening our kiss.
He only broke our mouths to trail his lips down my neck and shoulders, and I heard the rip of my dress, then it pooled down to my stomach.
“Connor!” I gasped, goose bumps prickling my bare skin. “This is couture, and I can’t take it back.”
He rested one hand on my back and gently lowered me to the ground, his warm breath on my lips. “You don’t need it. I’ll buy you another dress for our wedding. Or a clown suit. Or hell, whatever you want. Just tell me you’re still mine. That you’re still going to be my wife,” he commanded.
I swallowed hard, looking at his hooded blue eyes that burned into my already heated body. Slowly, I nodded.
“Say it. Say you’re mine. That you’re going to be my wife. No contracts, no time limits,” he growled, holding my arms above my head, my nipples puckering just from his words.
“I’m yours,” I whimpered before he smiled, burying his face in my chest.
I wiggled my hands against, his but he wouldn’t budge, and I couldn’t run my fingers through his hair as he sucked and nipped each aching nipple.
“This isn’t fair,” I whined.
He lifted his head up, smiling. “What isn’t fair, mo chroí?”
“That you’re still fully clothed, and we still have all this fabric between us,” I murmured, pushing my hips to meet his, moaning as my core pressed against his hard length through his pants.
He laughed. “You’ve always been pushy.”
He let go of my hands only to tear the last of my dress, the frilly skirt lying underneath me. The only things I wore were a white lace thong and my green heels. The first time I was this spread and vulnerable to him, I was scared. Scared that if we moved any further, I would break some invisible line.
Now that line had been erased; this wasn’t about work or money or an inheritance. This was just me and the man I loved.
He tossed aside his suit jacket then unbuttoned his shirt before shucking off his pants and boxers. He leaned over, his hot breath lingering right above my panties. He kissed the soaking fabric then ripped off my panties before holding my legs above my head and pressing his face to my core.
“I missed this,” he whispered against my skin.
It didn’t take long for me to grip the torn dress and cry his name as my body shook with desire.
He licked one long line down my center, letting me come down from the aftershocks before he hovered over me, pressing his lips to mine.
“I don’t want anything between us,” he whispered, moving his massive erection against my wet core, sparks flicking throughout my center.
“I’m on the pill,” I whispered breathlessly.
He laughed slightly. “And you couldn’t have told me this sooner?”
“Well, I’m telling you now,” I murmured before grabbing his length and guiding him to me. Inch after inch, he filled me, making my entire body shiver with pleasure.
“You feel so fecking amazing,” he moaned, his eyes at half-mast as I arched my body to willingly accept his.
His husky voice whispered promises of wants and needs and forevers while our bodies moved together.
Every doubt I had disappeared, and nothing else mattered but his body pressed to mine. It was just the two of us in our own fairy-tale bubble, with nothing but the tension building into our bodies until we both came to a beautiful crescendo.
I was still lost in the moment of ecstasy as we lay together, his chest pressed to mine so the only thing I could hear was the sound of our rapid hearts beating.
I didn’t know how long we lay there, and I didn’t care. All I cared about was that this man loved me. This was real. Connor was mine, and I was his. Forever. For always.
Epilogue
Connor
I didn’t want to put my clothes on, and there was no way Fallon could put on the dress I’d ripped to get to her beautiful body.
Sitting in the back of the cab, I squeezed her hand.
Her hair fell in long waves on her shoulders, against the short white dress with a long zipper. Thank God, I wouldn’t have to rip it off of her. It wasn’t the big, poufy dress or styled hair, but she was still the most beautiful bride ever.
“Sure you still want to do this? We can wait and do this whole big wedding thing again,” I asked as we pulled up to the front of the church.
She smiled. “As long as I’m here with you and I’ll soon be Mrs. Connor Murphy, that’s all that matters. Besides, Nana is going to be pretty upset if she leaves Ireland without knowing I’m a married woman.”
A few hours ago, we left the church separately in a whirlwind. After a phone call to Patrick, we were back at the altar. Just the two of us with Patrick presiding and a deacon as a witness.
Patrick held one hand out, with the other gripped on his bible.
As Patrick gave us our nuptial blessing, I stared at my wife’s wedding band and then up at her smiling face. Warmth rushed through me. My chest had been tightening with guilt for too long, but now, it swelled with pride.
“I love you,” she mouthed.
“Really?” I mouthed.
“Really,” she mouthed back, a grin spreading across her beautiful face.
Patrick’s final words boomed through the room.
“You may kiss your bride, Connor.”
“Gladly,” I murmured, cupping her cheeks and leaning into her smile. My wife. Mo grá. For better. For worse. For real.
…
Fallon
I thought after the small, private service we’d go back to our house for a proper wedding night. Eventually, we’d have to go to my parent’s hotel and explain everything. Something I wasn’t looking forward to. But instead of any of that, Connor instructed Patrick to pull into Murphy’s pub, where the doors were open and a flurry of discussion rang from inside.
“Did everyone decide to have the reception without us?” I asked, taking Connor’s hand as he helped me out of the back of the car.
Patrick smiled. “The party doesn’t start until the bride and groom enter.”
I looked up at Connor, my body rigid. “Have they been waiting here the whole time?”
He smirked. “Not the whole time, but I texted Leah and my brothers to tell them there may need to be a celebration tonight, after all.”
I walked through the doorway and gasped, seeing the room transformed, all the tables covered in white tablecloths with bouquets of shamrocks and white roses in old whiskey bottles.
Jack, Sean, Leah, and my parents all stood on the side of the stage. Nana in her wheelchair in front. On the little platform was the band from our proposal who played the beginning chords of “Whiskey in The Jar.”
“May I have the first dance with my wife?” Connor asked, pointing toward the dance floor.
I nodded, my body lighting up. For the first time in a long time, I could say I was thrilled. “Ah.”
He grinned, and we walked past our clapping friends, then he pulled me close. It may have been a more upbeat song, but at that moment, all I wanted to do was be in his arms.
Everything between us had been a leap of faith. Something neither of us could have predicted. But now, even with the craziness, I was happy to be swaying in the middle of the pub in my husband’s arms as our families watched.
