“Why not now?” I dare him.
That gets him good. He leans back from my ear and licks his lips, his hooded eyes meeting mine only briefly before pinning to my lips. I lift my chin and stretch my neck, offering myself to him. He devours me, mere minutes ’til midnight in the streets of Barcelona. First my collarbone, then my neck and ear and jaw, and then finally he lands on my lips. He tastes like Albariño and orange and mine. All mine.
When he pulls away, he takes my breath with him.
“You’ll have to wait,” he says, and presses his erection into my hip for an extra tease.
“I’m looking forward to it,” I tell him and then place my hand over his heart. “I’m looking forward to every day with you and every adventure to come. I love you.”
He gazes down at me with those same piercing hazel eyes that I first looked at in a rearview mirror.
“I love you too, lass.”
Eoghan
This ring box is burning a hole in my pocket. It actually feels like a hot coal in there and as each minute ticks down to midnight, I’m more and more aware of it. Juliana is totally in her element, not even noticing how nervous I am as I stand by, serving as her assistant. She’s taking photos of the Plaza de Cataluña in the heart of Barcelona, capturing the whole scene. From the merrymakers to the scenery, and even the spirit of the place. I don’t know how she can capture the atmosphere of a place so masterfully, but she does and I’m in awe of her.
That, among so many other reasons, is why I want to marry her. I’ve been wanting to pop the question since last year this time, but we’ve had so much going on. She was stressed about quitting her job, and then there was the lawsuit. Thankfully, the company wanted to settle the matter pretty fast and so did we. She was able to pay off her student loans in full, and that was a huge relief to her.
The right time was always around the corner, but with Dylan and Ruth running off to New York and the pub renovation, life’s been rather hectic. I fiddle with the ring box in my pocket for the thousandth time. She glances back at me and flashes that dazzling smile of hers, but I can tell she doesn’t have a clue.
When we were in California for Thanksgiving, I told her parents that I was planning to propose on this holiday and then swore them to secrecy. Even though I made her dad angry, because I wasn’t exactly asking for his permission, he loves her too much to ruin the surprise. I told her brother, too, and he threatened me with a violent death if I did anything to hurt her. I told him that if I did, he had every right to come after me. That scored me a few points.
Lord knows Dylan wouldn’t tell her. He’s the best secret keeper in the world, but I did take a chance telling him, because he vowed he wouldn’t keep anything from his wife and we all know how Ruthie can be.
But my lass wouldn’t be so relaxed if she knew it was coming. Nah, she’d be wound up tight. She’d be a nervous wreck, just like me.
With only a couple of minutes until midnight, the energy level of the revelers skyrockets. The excitement in the air is palpable from the collective wishfulness of new beginnings. She lowers her camera and walks over to me. I reach out and gently take it from her.
“I’m not done,” she says.
“Be in the moment, instead of on the outside of it,” I tell her. It’s the only time I’ve ever told her to stop taking photos.
She furrows that brow of hers, and I believe I see a little curiosity in her eyes and in her smile. I pack her camera away and then take her hand.
“Oh, our grapes!” she says and opens her purse.
“Right, the bleedin’ grapes,” I say more to myself than to her.
She pauses. “You don’t want to?”
“No, we better. I need all the luck I can get right about now,” I tell her.
“You’re Irish. You’re already lucky.”
I laugh. “If only that were actually true, lass.”
“Well, we don’t need luck when we have each other,” she says, and smiles sweetly at me.
And that’s the moment. I can’t wait a minute more. Screw midnight, screw fireworks. I want to marry this woman and I want to get started on that as soon as possible. I run a quick hand through my hair and then start to lower down on one knee. Her stunning smile morphs into a perfect O.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the dark green velvet box.
Her hands fly up to her face and her beautiful brown eyes sparkle. A crowd starts to form around us, but I don’t see their faces. I barely notice them, in fact. She’s all I see.
“Juliana, the day you landed on my island was the beginning of my life, the life that really matters. You saved me, ya know, from a life that was lonely and purposeless.”
The plaza erupts into a countdown.
Diez.
Nueve.
“You gave me purpose. You made me dare to hope for a life that was my own.”
Ocho.
Siete.
“I loved you then, I love you now, and I will love you forever.”
Seis.
Cinco.
I open the ring box and show her the Claddagh ring she picked out all those days ago in Blarney. Tears spill out of her eyes when she sees it. “You remembered,” she says and I give her a little nod.
Cuatro.
Tres.
“Will you be my wife?”
Dos.
“Will you be my lass, forever?”
Uno.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she shouts and then pulls me to my feet.
“Feliz Año Nuevo!” the people of Barcelona scream into the night, but I barely hear them. All I hear is “yes” and nothing else matters. Nothing at all.
Around us, people are shoving grapes into their mouths, but we don’t bother. I put the ring on Juliana’s finger, pull her into my arms, and then kiss her as the last chime of the plaza clock sounds. It’s as good as the first kiss at the bar on Halloween. It’s as good as the kiss in the back of the car during the storm. It’s as good as the kiss when she came back home to me that fateful Saturday morning in November, a year ago. It’s as good as every kiss we’ve ever had and every kiss we’ll ever have, because with Juliana, every kiss is perfection. And that makes me the luckiest Irishman alive.
The End.
Thank You For Reading!
I hope you enjoyed Pull At My Heart. If this was your first foray into the Love Overseas novels, check out Between The Waves (Hawaii) and Be What Love Is (England).
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Acknowledgments
As always, my first thanks goes to you dear reader. I truly hope you enjoyed it.
I dedicated this book to Ireland, wrote a book that takes place in Ireland, and yet cannot stop myself from talking even more about Ireland. It’s an understatement to say that I love that beautiful little island. I always have, long before I ever went there. I think the reason I’ve come to love it so much in the past six years is the people I’ve come to know.
Yvonne — You were my first Irish friend, my Brigid as it were. The first time we met, you were super pregnant but that didn’t stop you from climbing Blarney Castle with us or taking us on a Pub Crawl through Cobh and Cork. You’re one of my favorite people on this earth and I’m so blessed to you know ye.
Ronan — I almost died of embarrassment when Mike told you I was writing a novel that took place in Cork but my goodness I’m glad he did. Thank you for being so enthusiastic. Thank you for being my translator. Thank you for showing me what Cork pride is all about because there’s no better place in
Ireland. Thank you for taking me out on that dumb little boat to look for imaginary dolphins in Baltimore, showing us the stones at Drombeg, and teaching us about Mister Whippies. And a special thanks to your lovely wife, Lorraine, for putting up with us and entertaining us when we come to town.
And to all our friends that we’ve had the pleasure of spending time with in Ireland, from there or from abroad, thank you.
To the girls of Ellie’s Ensemble, you rock my world and pump me up. Thanks for being great cheerleaders.
Thanks to Ivonne DeLuca for being my superhero and friend.
Thank you Elizabeth Shay VanZwoll, my lovely and talented editor, for making my work shine. I continue to be impressed by the research you do, and thanks for Ballycoom!
As always, I couldn’t do this without the love and support of my husband, Mike, my daughters Erica and Isabelle, and the rest of our family.
Finally, a special shoutout to our friend Marty, that sent Mike on a two week work abroad program in Ireland in 2013. While he didn’t plan it or even understand it, those two weeks in Ireland changed my life by giving me the time and space to write in such a special place. Thanks Marty, the next pint is on me.
About the Author
Ellie Malouff has been dreaming up stories for as long as she can remember. As an avid reader, she loves getting lost in books and decided one day to give a little back to the literary world with her own contribution. When she’s not writing, you can find her parked on the couch in Colorado with her husband, kids, and cats. She loves traveling to Ireland whenever she gets the chance.
Find Ellie online at www.elliemalouff.com.
Also by Ellie Malouff
Between The Waves
Life for former pro-surfer Jake Garrant moves pretty slow in the small town of Manalua, Hawaii until one day a mysterious black haired beauty in a Cubs cap asks for surfing lessons. He commits to six lessons and does his best to keep it professional, but he can’t help falling for a woman named Audrey Logan. As each lesson goes by, the heat between them grows and they give into their desires, until one day they’re forced to face the ultimate riptide.
Be What Love Is
Cara and Reid’s worlds collide when they inherit an English estate. She’s pure California with a flare for Mexican food and books. He’s a sexy Brit that’s as posh as the day is long. Their story may be paved with gold, but their romance is a rocky ride.
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