“I think I’m still in shock.”
“Did I do good? Can’t believe ya never twigged I was up ta anything the whole time.”
“Yeah, you did well at keeping that secret.”
He kept talking, explaining all he went through to keep it from her. From the trips to the registry office to post the notice of marriage to getting friends and family there without causing suspicions.
Liz zoned out. Perhaps it was the hangover—from drink or the excitement—or did the view out the window mesmerize her? The scene was very serene. Little birds chirped and flitted around a pink blossom tree, and the grass was so green. Lush. She couldn’t hear a peep of traffic or sirens. She exhaled. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Good. I’m glad ya like it. Because it’s ours.”
“Hmm, our little country cottage for a few weeks. You spoil me. Can we go for a walk later? I’d like to explore.”
“I’ve got a picnic basket delivery arriving at lunch, thought we could go wandering the rolling hills and find a quiet spot. But—”
“Sounds romantic. Wish we could stay longer.”
“Ya misunderstand me. It’s ours. For keeps. I bought the place. We’re not going back ta England. This is our country cottage, honey, from our song.” He threw his arms out and did jazz hands. “Surprise!”
“But.”
“It’s what ya wanted, right? I heard ya say it to Rachel. Over and over. Even told me ya were sick of London, bored of ya job, and fed up of all the stress.”
“But... I would have liked a choice, Devlin, a say in the matter. I can’t stay here!”
“What’s wrong, would ya rather somewhere else?”
She stood and paced the kitchen. “I can’t catch my breath.”
“I’m sorry. But ya know me. If I decide something, I go ahead all guns a blazing. Are ya mad at me?” He leapt to her side and embraced her.
“Not mad, but regretful. This whole situation is wrong. I don’t remember our wedding, don’t have photographs or anything to remember the day by.”
“Chill. There was a professional photographer there the whole time. He got great shots of us. And if ya like, we can have a post-wedding party in Ballygalley Castle. I’m sure Sandra could arrange it. All our friends could come up and me parents. Yours, too.”
“I guess that would make me feel a bit better about the wedding, but I can’t stay here indefinitely.”
“I’m beginning ta think ya didn’t want ta marry me. Aren’t ya the least bit glad I bought ya a real ring as well as a cock ring?”
“You heard that?”
“Yes. And I heard ya telling ya agent ya had finished with the soap. So I don’t get it. Why aren’t ya happy?”
“I can’t stay here, Devlin. I landed a starring role in a major motion picture and I need to be back for the first of April or they’ll give my part to someone else.” She backed away from him until she bumped into the breakfast table. She clutched at the wood, her heart pulsing hard and fast.
“I’m not going back ta London.”
Her grip tightened around the hard surface. “Are you seriously going to make me choose?”
“No. No. Of course not. But I used every drop of me savings in this place and investing into Ballygalley Castle with Sandra. The cottage is all ours. No mortgage. We’re going ta be running a hotel in the castle and doing events and whatnot. Mystery weekends, weddings...you name it. Well, I am. I thought ya might want ta get into ya writing.” Devlin inched to her but she jerked to avoid his touch.
“I’m sure Shaun will give you your job back at Bell’s.” She flicked him away and crossed her arms, making her position clear. She didn’t want to be reasonable. She wanted to throw pots and pans, to run the length of the garden in her birthday suit while screaming. She wanted the best of both worlds. “I want to go back to London. And I want...you. Why did you have to corner me like this?” She was torn between two very different choices; her heart ached bad.
“Barman isn’t exactly enough ta support us, honey. I only ever worked there because it was fun, not because it paid well.” The distant gaze spread across him.
“What aren’t you telling me, Devlin Kinney?”
He shrugged.
“I’ve a feeling it’s the reason for the surprise wedding as well as the move out here. Come on. Dish!”
He stood, humming and harring. Finally, he skulked toward the window and leaned against the sill, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s me father. He’s pretty sick.” He slumped his shoulders and ran a hand through his thick mop. “I want ta be around for him. Spend time with him.”
She ached to hold him, to make him hurt a little less. Her anger melted and the temptation was too much. She threw her arms around him and squeezed. “We could have rented a room at the castle for a few months, could have—”
“He’s dying, Liz. I need him ta see me happy before he passes. I owe him that much after all the trouble and upset Aofie caused over the break-ups and her fake pregnancies. It’s all he’s ever wanted for me.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”
He turned and kissed her. “Please stay with me.”
“Oh baby, I don’t want to leave you. Maybe if I call my agent, see if filming can be postponed.”
“Forgive me. Of course ya have ta do the movie. I was selfish in deciding for ya.” He smoothed down her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead.
“It was, yes. But I understand why you did it. You must be hurting. Let me make the call and see what I can do.” She speed dialed her agent.
“Liz, how are you my money star, erm, I mean movie star?”
“I need to ask you something.”
“Are you ready to be famous?”
“Calm your trousers and listen, I’ve got a family emergency, any chance we can put off filming for a few months?”
The line went quiet for a moment then he cleared his throat. “This isn’t going to look good. You sure you want me to ask?”
“Just do it.”
“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll get back to you.”
Liz hung up. “In future, Dev, tell me when something is upsetting you. I’ll be here for you, of course I will. Don’t be doing any of these crazy lone decision-making stunts again. You hear?”
“And the movie?”
“I can try to get more time up here before I have to be on set, and I can travel up here as often as I can to be with you.”
“That’ll wear ya out, ya can’t do that.” He cupped her face in his strong hands and pulled her in for a kiss that sent her stomach swirling and her legs weak.
Catching her breath, she sighed and gazed into Devlin’s green eyes. “You’re important to me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”
“Hmm, whatever, eh? Let me think what I can get out of this.”
She frowned and pointed her finger. “We are a team now, mister. Any decisions to be made are to be made together. Got it?”
“Uh-huh.”
Chapter Five
Three months later.
Liz ached all over. She placed the roller in the tray, a sense of satisfaction creeping over her. She loved how the yellow walls brightened the cozy kitchen and brought the sunshine in. Devlin could use some sunshine in his life after losing his father to cancer.
She spent most of her time in this little room, now. Either typing new ways to emotionally torture characters for the soap opera she used to act in or baking up treats for her man. Her whole world had changed. Content. No longer striving for the next big job or ducking from cameras. Thanks to her husband. And the lead role in her big-break movie going to a taller, American actress due to writers changing their minds at the last minute. Wasn’t meant to be. But their move to Ireland was. The reason they’d moved there was sad, and she wished it could have been another way. But she was sure glad they had moved to Belfast.
Devlin snuck up behind her and swept her hair to the side. He kissed the dip between her neck and shoulder, his delic
ate touch sending shivers down her spine. She wanted to sweep the paint tools off the table and make love to him on it. “It’s perfect! Now all we need is a new cooker.”
She spun to meet his mouth with hers. He grinned. He’d been up to mischief. She just knew it.
A bang echoed through the hallway of the cottage, followed by men, maybe two or three, muttering swear words.
“What have you done?’
He sidestepped from the doorway, revealing a new cooker covered in plastic.
“It’s just like the one I mentioned I wanted when we went into town at the weekend.”
“Ya, an orange AGA oven, all shiny and new. Now ya have no excuse for not making me scones.”
“Cheeky.” She bounced on her toes and clapped. “I love it!”
“There’s a matching toaster, processor, and kettle, too. Do ya hate me?” He tilted his head and gazed down at her, a puppy begging for forgiveness.
“How could I possibly ever hate you, Devlin? You give me everything I want, even when I don’t know what I want.”
“Good, because there’s another surprise. The delivery truck has a few more things for us.”
She pushed past him and scurried outside, knowing his surprises were reason for excitement. Even though he was a big kid himself, Liz guessed he’d make a wonderful father one day.
Deliverymen carried boxes out of a big furniture truck and passed her to go through the front door. This gave her an opportunity to get a closer look. There was a picture of a baby cot on one. And on another, a changing table.
“It’s baby furniture! Is this your cock-handed way of telling me you’d like to start a family?” Crazy how he knew what was on her mind. But probably not the best idea to count blessings before they came to fruition.
“No, Liz, it’s me way of saying I know yar pregnant, and I’m over the moon about it.”
“It’s possible. I hadn’t thought about it, been too busy painting and writing and…. I am a few weeks late.” A myriad of thoughts raced through her All of them fan-bloody-tastic! Me? A mummy. To Devlin’s baby. A happy family in their country cottage. She struggled to stay grounded, to not let his excitement sweep her along.
Then again, even if she wasn’t pregnant, it’d be a lot of fun trying to change that.
****
Later that day.
She peed on a pregnancy test. And then came the waiting.
Her man paced the spare room he’d already pegged as the nursery. Boxes of new furniture took up half the space. Funny, because he claimed she was pregnant. If anyone should be pacing, it was her. But she wasn’t. A sense of calm enveloped her, hope building as each minute passed. She wanted a positive result, and those desires built with every second she was left wondering. Was she or wasn’t she?
“I thought you were sure I was pregnant. Why the pacing?”
“I’m scared ya’ll freak when the stick tells ya it’s true, that yar expecting.”
“Devlin, if it’s positive, I’ll leap into your arms and nag you to death with baby names for nine months.”
He glanced at the test for the umpteenth time and gawked, his stare softening and a tear trickling down his cheek. “It’s positive,” he declared.
“How the bloody hell do you do it? Are you psychic or something?” Liz made true on her promise and leapt to him, embracing him.
He wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “No, honey. I just know ya.”
“I adore you, Daddy.”
“And I love the bones off ya, I do.”
~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~
Born ’n bred Brit, Joanne Kenrick grew up in a wee seaside town in North Wales and has enjoyed a variety of vocations such as holistic healer, window dresser, and ghost tour guide. Having lived in Wales, England, and Scotland with her dear family, she finally escaped the dull British summers to reside in sunny Australia. After two years, they moved to the States where she endured three harsh winters in Minnesota. She now lives in North Carolina with her husband, two kids and two puddy cats. When they aren't demanding her attention, or jumping on her head, she strums away on the keys of her little laptop, creating worlds and adventures she could only ever dream of. Come across the pond and faraway....with JoAnne Kenrick! Find out more about JoAnne’s work by visiting http://www.joannekenrick.com and get exclusive sneak peeks at her upcoming releases by signing up to her quarterly newsletter here http://tinyletter.com/joannekenrick
Shamrocked
A 1Night Stand Story
Devlin Kinney is focused on his Irish Rock band, Shamrocked. Between that and tending bar at Bell’s Irish Pub, he’s rushed off his feet. Still, he’s envious of Shaun who found his perfect woman through Madame Eve’s exclusive agency, 1Night Stand. Pushed for time, he follows his friend’s lead and hopes to be matched with a woman ballsy enough to share in his fetish for things that go buzzzz.
At the event of the year for soap stars, Elizabeth Grant meets Devlin and mistakes him for her soon-to-be The EastEnd co-star. Before she has a chance to confess she’s not his 1Night Stand as he seems to think, the silver-tongued smooth dancer proves irresistible. He seems perfect…for one night of pleasure. She’s ready to play the role of her life!
Will his Irish charm and toys be enough to hold onto his leading lady, or will his heart be shamrocked into next week?
Dracula’s Kiss
A 1Night Stand Story
Cathela's Office Halloween Ball is a complete bust. She spills out of her Dracula's Bride costume, and her vamp fetish chases away her boyfriend. Only redeeming feature to the night? Necking multiple shots of Dracula's Kiss—a lush Black Cherry Vodka cocktail—and an interlude with a gorgeous man dressed Gary Oldman style.
No one comes close to satisfying Alec Murray's needs until he meets Cathela during some lame-ass party for bankers. One taste of her blood, sweet yet darkly dangerous, he knows she's perfect for him.
A night of goth bondage is planned for one. For the other, a night of sexual control is a must. A perfect fit. Alec is compelled to reveal his true nature but can their relationship survive his dark secret?
Bittersweet Symphony
The Edge – Tales from the Coffin Book 3
The Bone Cruncher hasn’t visited in a while, and Estella thinks it’s something she did. Misery loves company, but she loves food more. Putting on a smile, she musters up an erotic story. But can she make it to the end of the tale without comfort eating?
To onlookers, Seren lived the high life in London with her orchestra conductor of a husband. She had a major case of unrequited love for her best friend, though, so their relationship was doomed from the beginning. Divorce papers served, it’s time for her to go back to her hometown on the England-Wales border and face the music.
Owen, now a postman of their little market town, is thrilled to see Seren when he shows up at her doorstep with mail. It’s not long before they’re releasing their pent up lust and love for each other. Within that mail, though, are letters addressed to Seren’s parents. They’re from her ex and hold a truth Seren is too fearful to face. Even with Owen by her side.
Table of Contents
Title page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Marry Me, I'm Irish Page 3
