Lucky Charm: A St. Patrick's Day Irish Billionaire Fake Fiance Romance

by Eva Luxe

  Brad blinked at me, trying to put two and two together.

  “The money is nothing. You know that. But, what I’m trying to figure out is… Are you saying you want to move to Miami with me, and come stay with me?” he asked.

  I nodded, suddenly feeling silly. “Do you think it’s too soon for that?”

  Brad smiled, his face changing, his eyes lighting up.

  “No, Carly. I think it’s six years too late.”

  Epilogue – Brad

  6 months later

  There were few things in life more satisfying than a good training session. I had played considerably well, even Coach Rudi had complimented me on it, and life was the way it should be. When I got home, the apartment was quiet.

  “I’m home,” I called.

  “I’m in the bedroom, getting ready to go out,” Carly answered.

  I walked through to the bedroom, dumping my gear bag in the hallway on the way the master bedroom. Carly was sitting in front of the mirror at her dresser, the robe around her shoulders and her hair pinned up. She was doing her makeup.

  “How was training?” she asked, looking at me in the mirror.

  I crossed the room toward her, and she turned her head to kiss me. After she broke the kiss and turned her attention back to the mirror, I kissed her jaw, working my way down her neck and ending on her shoulder. When I glanced up and made eye contact with her in the mirror, she was shaking her head ever so slightly.

  “What?” I asked, but I knew exactly what.

  “You know what,” she said. “If you start something now, we’ll miss our reservation.”

  I could think of nothing better than to take her to bed, get rid of the robe, and have my way with her. But she was right, we had a reservation, and I didn’t want to sacrifice tonight for sex. There would be plenty more time for that.

  “I’m going to shower,” I said, leaving her to her makeup and walking to the bathroom. My life was perfect. I had a wonderful job that I loved enough that I never felt I worked a day in my life.

  My apartment was spectacular, with a view to die for. I was surrounded by friends who were willing to drop everything and be there for me when I needed them. And I had the world’s most beautiful woman in the bedroom just on the other side of the door, waiting for me. I couldn’t be happier.

  I turned on the hot water and stripped off my sweaty training clothes. The Florida Sharks had had a spectacular season. We had won every game except for one, and that one loss hadn’t touched our position in the rankings at all. I was at the peak of my career, with the scandal of six months ago long forgotten. My fans have always stood behind me, and they would continue to do so. I knew that football was just a sport, but I felt like a hero to them. One day, I would be on someone’s wall, the same way that the greats were on mine.

  The best part of the past season was my supporter, Carly. She had very quickly turned into my number one fan, never missing a game and cheering the loudest. When things were going well, she celebrated with me. When I had an injury, she worried herself to death, and when I was down, she was sad with me. I had never dreamed of having a supporter the way Carly was. I couldn’t believe I had played the sport for six years without her by my side.

  I stepped in under the hot spray and focused on letting my muscles relax. I had pushed harder today, running faster and lifting heavier weights. I wanted to be better than I already was. I didn’t compare myself to other team members. I didn’t compare myself to the greats of the past. The only person I compared myself to, was the person I was yesterday. It was an outlook on life that Carly had taught me, and it challenged me to excel above and beyond what I had dreamt I could do before. Everything about Carly pushed me to do better, if not for her, then for myself.

  With the football season over, I wanted to take another long break. Maybe I would whisk Carly away to a mysterious destination, somewhere overseas. It would be good to get away from Miami, but I didn’t want to go back to Laramie. I wanted to find new places where Carly and I could create new memories, memories not attached to our past, but that would create the foundation for our future.

  Carly knocked on the door. “You have to get out of the shower, my love. We’re going to be late.”

  “I’ll be right out,” I called and hurried to finish up. Tonight, was too important for me to be late.

  When I got out of the shower, I got dressed. I put on a new pair of jeans and a long sleeved, black, collared shirt. The new pair of Italian loafers went with it, and I styled my hair that had grown out a bit. Carly liked it long, and if it was what she liked, she would get it. When I stepped into the bedroom, she took my breath away. We had been living together for six months, and she still managed to do that to me.

  She was wearing a red dress that flared out from the waist and hit her just above the knee. The neckline was scooped, leaving just enough to the imagination, and her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore golden jewelry, and black shoes completed the outfit. I walked to her and pulled her against me.

  “I don’t have to tell you that you look fantastic,” I said. She smiled, and I kissed her. When I pulled away, I touched my lips. “Did I ruin your lipstick?” I asked.

  Carly shook her head, smiling. She tapped her lips with her forefinger and showed me that it was clean. “It’s a long stay lipstick,” she said. “I got it today because you always ruin my lips, and I’m not going to stop kissing you.”

  I laughed and kissed her again for good measure. We walked to the elevator and rode our way down to the parking garage. Carly and I had been living together for six months now, and it couldn’t have worked out better for us.

  We were soulmates in the full sense of the word. She had done everything to be able to be with me. She was studying online now, taking her classes as webinars when it was serious and submitting her assignments online. When she needed to take tests, she was allowed to do it at home, provided she could prove the textbooks weren’t with her for the exam.

  One time, she had flown back to Fort Collins to take a test that was required to attend in person. Other than that, she didn’t have to be physically present at all. Not only was long-distance studying working for her, she was doing really well. I wouldn’t be surprised if she graduated with all kinds of distinctions.

  Because she stayed with me and didn’t go to classes where she could meet other people, Carly spent a lot of time with the girls. She had become close friends with all three of them, Kina in particular. The two of them often went shopping together or met up for coffee to talk about life.

  When all of them got together, the four of them often arranged girls’ nights out, and I was more than happy to let Carly go with them. Sometimes Dana even visited and went out with them. Not only was she in good hands with the girls, but I didn’t doubt her dedication to me. Carly and I were in the perfect relationship. We had balance, compromise, and love.

  We arrived at Zuma, and I gave the hostess my name. We were taken to the table I had reserved, and we sat down. The waitress brought us our menus and offered to fetch us drinks.

  Zuma was one of the best Japanese restaurants in town, with everything from sushi, to fish, to vegetables perfectly cooked and served in Oriental style. It was always full and difficult to get a reservation, but I was Brad Williams, and I could pull some strings.

  “I love this restaurant so much,” Carly said.

  I nodded. It was the reason I had brought her here instead of choosing somewhere else. I wanted tonight to be memorable.

  The meal was fantastic as always, the wine superb, and spending time with my girlfriend was as fulfilling as it could be. When it was time for dessert, Carly picked up the menu again.

  “I don’t know what I want,” she said.

  “I have an idea,” I said. “Why don’t we look at the menu, pick something we want, and say it together. Imagine we say the same thing.”

  Carly laughed. “It would be funny, but I doubt it’s going to happen. We don’t have the same
taste at all when it comes to dessert.”

  I shrugged. “Humor me.”

  Carly nodded. “One, two, three,” she counted.

  “Tiramisu,” she said.

  “Marry me,” I said at the same time.

  Carly looked up at me, surprised. She looked like she thought she must have heard me wrong.

  Just to be clear, and because I valued tradition, I got out of my chair, kneeling in front of her. I produced a black velvet box with the ring I had bought for her on display.

  “Will you marry me?” I asked the love of my life, the only girl I had ever been with, my soul mate since I was a teenager.

  “Brad, I can’t believe this,” Carly said, and she sounded like she was emotional. “I thought we were talking about dessert.”

  “I was talking about the perfect ending,” I said. “I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Please, be my wife.”

  Tears were streaming down Carly’s cheeks now. She clasped her hands to her mouth and nodded. She extended her left hand to me, and I took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger. Thanks to Lacey, I had found out the ring size, and the ring fit perfectly.

  Everyone around us applauded. It wasn’t every day a famous athlete proposed to his girlfriend in a busy restaurant. Carly flashed through her tears, smiling, and laughing, and I had to admit I felt quite emotional, too.

  When we were finished with dinner and I paid the bill—we had gotten the dessert for free as congratulations on our engagement—we left the restaurant, and a flurry of reporters were outside, waiting for us. That night, they didn’t upset me. In fact, they were right on time.

  “She said yes!” I proclaimed, and Carly and I turned to my car. When we were in the car, Carly laughed.

  “That will give them something to chew on,” she said.

  “Yeah, I thought it would be a good introduction to a press release,” I said.

  I wanted to arrange something with Lacey or Kina as soon as possible, announcing our engagement to the world. Of course, it would be in the papers already after this. I didn’t care. Tonight, the whole world could know that I was the luckiest man on earth.

  “My poor father,” Carly said. “He always has to find out the hard way what I’m up to with you.”

  “I didn’t even think about that. My mom will hear it over the news, too.”

  Carly shrugged. “I guess that’s part of being famous,” she said and giggled.

  I nodded. My mom would find out over the news, but she wouldn’t be upset. She had seen this coming for a long time. I didn’t know how Carly’s parents would react, but we would take it as it came.

  Her dad had softened his heart a little when he’d realized his daughter would be moving so far away and no longer needed his permission— or money— to live life the way she wanted to live it. Her mom had been squarely on our side since the day she’d told Carly to come to Miami with me— and boy, was I glad she had. As I drove us home to spend the night with my future wife, I was incredibly happy about how everything had turned out.

  The next morning, Carly and I were all over the paper. The beautiful photo of us emerging from the restaurant with the diamond ring on Carly’s finger took front and center, and the headline was a question. “Are they engaged?”

  The world was still debating if they knew the truth, though. Later, we would call our friends, get together, and break the news to them in person. We would spend the day celebrating, but right now, it was just me and Carly. I pulled her to me and kissed her.

  “I love you, future Mrs. Williams,” I said.

  Carly smiled a beautiful smile. “I love you, too.”

  And that was it. I had found my way back to my childhood sweetheart, and had made her my fiancée. I couldn’t have asked for anything to have turned out better.

  My life was complete. Except that maybe, down the road, I could see some little Brad- and- Carly’s running around. For now, though, I had everything I wanted, right here in my arms.

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  The next book in the South Beach Bad Boys Series is Don’t Walk Away: A Second Chance Fake Fiancé Romance. Here is an exclusive sneak peek!

  Chapter 1

  Kyle

  It was another night after work that I was at The Corner. My home away from home.

  I’d always found that the best place to be alone was somewhere with a lot of people. It was ironic, but I liked being surrounded by people, even if I was by myself— which I preferred to be. It beat the silence that crowded me at home. What I didn’t like was that I had to put on somewhat of a fake happy face since I was out and about, so no one would see me scowling.

  The Corner was a quaint place, with rough wooden panels on the walls, exposed wooden pillars, and everything decorated in shades of brown. It wasn’t a classy joint. They served craft beers and food, and I could sit right at the bar if I wanted to. If I’d had to get a table, I wouldn’t have frequented the place. Nothing screamed “loser” more than someone sitting all alone at a table.

  I sipped on my third Jack and Coke. It was strong, and it welcomed me like an old friend. The bartender eyed me to check that I didn’t need service. I was a regular. Regulars tended to get served immediately. Keeping the regulars happy ensured they remained regular.

  My phone rang, and Louie’s name flashed on the Caller ID. I sighed and pressed the phone to my ear.

  “Stop working,” I told him, as my form of greeting.

  “I need to finish this sheet,” he said. “Not all of us can afford to sit on our asses and drink all night.”

  “Who says I drink all night?”

  “I can hear the bar music, asshole,” Louie said.

  I rolled my eyes, “What do you need?”

  He explained his dilemma and I helped him out, giving away my tricks of the trade. Helping Louie was my way of paying it forward and trying to get some good fucking karma. The poor guy was new at our firm. I had worked hard to get where I was, but if someone hadn’t thrown me a bone a few times, I would still have been on one of the bottom rungs.

  “Thanks, Kyle. You’re a star,” Louie said, before hanging up.

  “A superstar,” I said bitterly, to no one other than myself.

  Louie couldn’t have been more wrong. No kid woke up with stars in his eyes and said that one day he wanted to be an accountant. I’d had a dream of being a pro football player since the moment I’d realized you could make a career out of sports. For years I had lived and breathed the game, sure I was going to enjoy the glory days with a football in my hands and the sound of cheering in my ears.

  Until I didn’t get chosen to play for the college team. Only one thing hurt more than being told I wasn’t good enough: being told that my best friend was.

  I had taken Accounting as a fallback— my mom insisted— and thank God I had. I’d have been out on my ass now if I hadn’t. It had taken me some time to get my act together. Right after college, with a basic Accounting degree and so much bitterness over my botched up future, I had started drinking and getting into trouble. It was months before I realized I had to get my shit together if I wanted to stay out of jail— or worse, rehab.

  So, I’d done every course and exam required to become a chartered accountant and I’d gotten a job so my twin sister and her new husband— my ex-best friend— didn’t have to look after me.

  It didn’t help the bitterness at all, but I was better off, financially speaking at least. And at least I had a productive force on which to focus my energy.

  I sipped my drink, thanking the powers that be for the existence of alcohol. I’d calmed down my ruckus ways but I still enjoyed a strong drink after work. I was thinking about how grateful I was to have turned my life around, even if it wasn’t exactly the life I had anticipated having, when a
noise behind me made me turn my head. A couple of big guys walked through the doors and excitement rippled through everyone in the bar.

  Florida Sharks players.

  Fuck.

  What the hell were they doing here? This was a rundown dive bar in a shitty part of town. There were so many more places over on North Beach where I wouldn’t have to be reminded of them. Where I wouldn’t have to be reminded that my brother-in-law was one of them, and was living the life that should have belonged to me.

  Sure as shit, Jacob Larson was with them, his blue eyes shining. Yeah, he was living the life. He had nothing to be sour about.

  I wanted to get out of there before they saw me. I didn’t want to face Jacob, talk to him, pretend that everything was fine. I had done that for a while.

  When I’d realized my sister Kina was in love with Jacob, I had made nice, for her sake. I had apologized for fucking up, for being bitter, and had pretended I was happy for them, just long enough that they stopped worrying about me and left me alone. I had put on a happy face for their wedding, too.

  But that was over now. If Jacob thought I would forget that he was living my dream, he had another think coming. I didn’t blame him for it, and knew that it wasn’t his fault, but that didn’t mean that jealousy didn’t crawl under my skin, reminding me how great I did not have it.

  “Kyle!” Jacob called out, and I groaned inwardly. He’d seen me. Shit. I couldn’t run away now.

  “Jacob,” I said evenly.

  He came up to me, grinning. There had been a time when we’d been so close he’d been like a brother to me. Those days were far behind us.

  “How are you doing, man? I never see you around anymore.”

  I forced a smile. I didn’t tell him it was because I didn’t want to be around anymore.

  “Guess I’ve been busy,” I said.

  “It happens,” Jacob said, with a shrug. “Your sister will be so happy to hear I saw you tonight. She’s doing well, too.”