Wild Night
Page 1
Wild Night
Wilder Irish, book 10
Mari Carr
This story is dedicated to the “original” Kelli Collins, my editor for the past sixteen years. She’s walked every mile in the Wild/Wilder Irish series with me and I couldn’t live a day without her.
* * *
With Wild Night, she is now a legitimate member of the family!
Contents
Wild Night
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Wild Embrace
About the Author
Wild Night
Confirmed bachelor Colm is living the good life with a thriving law practice and all the freedom the playboy has come to enjoy. Until a city-wide blackout and the greatest sex he’s ever had has him reconsidering his single status. Unfortunately, he doesn’t realize the woman of his dreams is actually his lifelong frenemy, Kelli.
* * *
After a few too many drinks at a Halloween party, Kelli spends the night in the arms of a man who rocks her world. However, when she learns her mystery Mr. Right is Mr. Hell No, Colm Collins, she’s ready to run for the hills.
* * *
But Colm refuses to accept just one wild night with her. He wants them all and the sexy man plays dirty.
Prologue
Colm Collins walked into the pub, climbed onto the stool next to Patrick, dropped his bookbag on the floor, and slouched back in the seat, managing to look completely bored in three seconds.
“How was school, lad?” Patrick asked.
While his young grandson had a genial disposition, he didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve like his twin brother, Padraig, who was always quick with a laugh and rarely without a smile. Rather, Colm was more thoughtful, introspective, and, well, mischievous.
Colm shrugged. “It was alright.”
Padraig, who’d come in right behind him, tossed his bookbag to the floor next to his brother’s. Typically, the boys got off the bus after school at home, but their mother, Lane, a nurse at Johns Hopkins, was working second shift, as was Patrick’s son, Tris—the boys’ father—who was currently manning the bar here at the pub.
The boys, at fifteen, were certainly old enough to stay home alone, but Colm had been caught sneaking his new girlfriend—the boy seemed to have a new love every other minute—into his bedroom two nights earlier. As such, Lane and Tris had grounded him and decided he would not be staying at the house alone until they could trust him again.
Patrick feared recovering that trust might not be a quick process. A teenage boy’s hormones were a powerful thing.
Tris returned from the kitchen with clean glasses, nodding at the boys when he saw them. “You guys have homework?”
From his gruff tone, it was apparent Tris was still unhappy about Colm’s behavior and determined to make this punishment memorable.
“Yeah, some. It won’t take me too long though,” Padraig said. “Want me to help you put the glasses away?” Padraig had obviously decided to share in the punishment with his brother, rather than go home alone. Which wasn’t surprising. Padraig loved being in the pub, helping his father with various tasks.
Tris grinned. “Sure. Colm, why don’t you grab that booth over there—where I can keep an eye on you—and start your homework. We’re eating dinner here, and I’ve got one of the part-time bartenders coming in to close up. Might as well settle in. You’re going to be here for a while.”
Colm sighed and rolled his eyes, but—wisely—held his tongue as he stood up to do as he was told.
Patrick fought to hide his grin. As the father of four rowdy, always-pushing-curfews-and-rules boys, he knew Tris was only just at the beginning of this battle with his intelligent, girl-crazy son.
“Mind if I join you for a few minutes, Colm?” Patrick asked, rising as well.
His clever grandson considered the question for a moment, obviously concerned he was about to get another lecture for his behavior. Patrick gave him a quick, covert wink to assure him he was safe.
Colm grinned. “Sure. That’s cool, Pop Pop.”
Colm retrieved his backpack and the two of them crossed the pub, claiming a booth in the corner. It was midafternoon, so the pub would be quiet until the happy hour crowd started to roll in.
“Are you going to yell at me too?” Colm asked once they were seated.
“I hadn’t planned to. I suspect your parents said all that needed to be said.”
Colm lifted one shoulder casually. “I guess so.”
“Am I to assume the young lady in question was the one you were telling me about a couple of weeks ago? I believe her name was Jessica.”
Colm shook his head. “No. Me and Jess are history. I’m going out with Zoey now.”
“My, my. I might need to start a list. I’m struggling to keep the names of your lady loves straight.”
Colm laughed. “You don’t need to worry about learning names yet. I’m just having some fun. Paddy’s the one who wants a girlfriend, not me.”
“I see. Padraig doesn’t have a girlfriend, though, right?”
Colm shook his head. “Nope. Not right now anyway. Paddy’s too picky. I’m not criticizing, Pop Pop, but I think you’ve been a bad influence on him.”
Patrick tilted his head curiously. “In what way?”
“He’s always looking for the one. Like last year. He starts dating Stephanie Bell, swears she’s the girl for him, then gets his heart broken. Like we couldn’t all see that coming. All the dude wants to do is fall in love like you and Grandma Sunday.”
“I see.” And this was why Patrick asked to join Colm at this booth. His precocious fifteen-year-old grandson was wise beyond his years, sarcastic, intelligent, and funny. “And you don’t have those same aspirations?”
“Heck no. I’m gonna be young while I’m young. Not planning to settle down until I’m forty, at least. Paddy will probably elope three seconds after high school. Not that that’s so surprising.”
“Because of his tendency to fall in love too fast?”
“No. Because he doesn’t have my way with the ladies. That’s why he falls so fast whenever a girl pays attention to him. Always been that way. Did you know he actually paid for his first kiss?”
“Paid for it?”
“Yeah. Kelli charged him a quarter when we were in fifth grade.”
Patrick chuckled. Kelli Peterson had been Padraig’s best friend since elementary school, the girl a familiar face at Tris and Lane’s home and even here at the pub. “Is that right?”
“Yeah. She charged a couple other guys too.”
“Quite the enterprising young lady. Am I to assume you didn’t pay for the same?”
“Pop Pop,” Colm said with a cocky grin. “First of all, it was Kelli. Gross.”
Patrick had always found it interesting how very different Colm was from his brother. While Kelli and Padraig were truly the best of friends, Colm seemed to view the same girl with genuine disdain. He’d always wondered if those feelings were based on personality differences or if Colm felt jealousy toward Kelli, unhappy about sharing his twin brother.
“And secondly,” Colm continued. “The ladies should be paying me to kiss them.”
Patrick hid his mouth behind his hand. It wouldn’t help Tris and Lane’s cause if he laughed, though he was thoroughly amused by Colm’s cockiness. The boy wasn’t lacking when it came to confidence. “So no long-t
erm girlfriends for you?”
“Nope. I’m free as a bird and plan to stay that way.” Colm leaned back, slouching slightly in the booth, assuming a look that couldn’t be called anything other than pure teenage male confidence. If Colm was walking right now, he’d be swaggering. Patrick was familiar with the look because he’d seen the exact same thing in Colm’s father, Tris, when he was young.
Glancing toward the bar, Patrick wondered if Tris realized how close this apple had fallen to the tree. Lane had suggested more than a few times that Colm and Tris butted heads as often as they did because they were birds of a feather.
“Free as a bird, eh?” Patrick repeated. “Well, then your name certainly fits you.”
Colm rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a freaking dove. You know how lame that is, right?”
Patrick had gotten into the habit of telling his young grandchildren the meanings of their names, sharing stories of past namesakes who’d gone on to do incredible things. Colm had been incredibly unimpressed by the meaning of his name, and even less enthusiastic by the story of the namesake, St. Columba, whose monks created The Book of Kells.
“The dove represents peace, Colm. That’s a wonderful thing.”
Colm, who’d been in the process of pulling a notebook out of his backpack, paused. “Lochlan gets Viking. Finn gets warrior, and I get peace. Lame,” he repeated.
Patrick chuckled, aware that in this instance, he didn’t have a leg to stand on. “Your mother found the name in a baby book. Be grateful she went for Colm rather than her first choice.”
Colm frowned. “What was her first choice?”
“Peter. She thought Padraig and Peter sounded cute together. Your father put his foot down.”
Colm appeared surprised. “I never knew that. What does Peter mean?”
“Stone.”
“I’ll take the dove.”
Patrick nodded. “Wise choice.” They fell silent for a few minutes as Colm opened his notebook, then reached back into his backpack for a textbook. While Patrick knew Padraig didn’t have much homework, he was certain the same wasn’t true for Colm, who was taking all honors classes, unlike his twin, who viewed high school as something he simply had to tolerate for four years.
“What are you working on?”
Colm wrinkled his nose. “Romeo and Juliet. Dumbest play in history.”
“You’re starting to hurt my soul, lad. That’s a very romantic story.”
“Romantic? Um. Did you read all the way to the end? Spoiler alert, Pop Pop. They both die.”
Patrick grinned. “Maybe so, but I’ve always liked the true love aspect.”
Colm was too polite to roll his eyes at Patrick, though his expression said that was exactly what he wanted to do. “They fell in love in a hot minute. That’s not real life.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong, my boy. That’s exactly how it happened for me and Sunday. She was singing at the bar, and I knew—all the way to my bones—that she was the one for me.”
Colm studied his face intently, then shook his head slowly. “I don’t think that’s when you fell in love. It doesn’t work that way.”
Patrick smiled and considered that. Whenever he told the story of the night he first met Sunday, he always proclaimed it was love at first sight. But when he really thought about it, it was an entire series of moments that came to mind, all of them building on each other.
“Well now. Perhaps you might be right about that.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Now that I think about it, I fell for her more slowly than I first thought. There was an instant attraction, of course, but the love grew as we got to know each other better, as we shared our hopes and dreams for the future and realized we were both walking in the same direction. You know, love has a way of sneaking up on a person, showing up at the most unexpected times. One look, one word, one random moment in time and then…it’s just…click. The light flips on and even the darkest of hearts is filled with bright, radiant light.”
“Just click?” Colm didn’t seem convinced, but he was definitely listening.
And interested.
“Just click. And when it happens, it’s magic.”
Colm was quiet for a moment, and then his all-too-familiar lopsided grin emerged. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, Pop Pop. This is where Paddy gets all his ideas about love.”
Patrick shrugged. “Guilty as charged, I suppose.”
“Bad influence,” Colm muttered, but Patrick saw the slightest flicker of something in his grandson’s face, and he recognized it instantly.
Colm wanted the click.
Chapter One
Colm tossed back the rest of his Guinness, then glanced down toward the end of the bar at Pat’s Pub. It was only Wednesday and he’d already had a bear of a week. As a lawyer who specialized in family law, he’d seen more than his fair share of contentious divorces, bitter custody battles, and tragic cases of domestic abuse. This week? He’d dealt with all three. Nasty shit. And it felt like it was ripping out chunks of his soul.
Typically, he could keep emotions out of it, could focus on the task at hand. If it had just been one case, he could have held it together. But he was dealing with three. The three worst cases of his career. All at the same time.
He caught Padraig’s eye and pointed to his empty mug. His twin narrowed his eyes briefly, but Padraig knew him well enough that he didn’t question him. Instead, he just picked up the empty mug, pulled the tap, refilled his glass, and then set it back down in front of him.
“Wanna talk about it?” Padraig asked.
Colm shook his head. “Nope. Just want to forget about it.”
“Yeah, the fact you’re on your third beer in less than an hour…on a weeknight…sort of clued me in. You sure you—”
“I’m sure,” Colm interjected.
“Okay. Well, I’m here if you change your mind.”
Colm managed a weak smile and a nod. He knew that, knew his brother would always listen to his troubles, would have his back in a fight, would give him shit whenever he did something stupid. They were brothers and that was what they did. Add in the whole twin-bond factor, and it was safe to say no one on the planet got him like Padraig.
He took another sip of his Guinness, leaning back in the stool, savoring the quiet white noise of the pub. This place, this very stool at the bar, was probably one of his happiest places on the planet. So as soon as he’d dragged his sorry ass in from work, he’d plopped down with no more thought than he was home and beer was close.
He loosened his necktie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, releasing a long sigh.
He could have walked right by the bar and headed upstairs to the apartment he shared with some of his cousins. After all, it was empty right now. Darcy had gotten a new job recently and had been putting in long hours, excited to prove herself as a graphic artist, while his other roomies, Oliver and Gavin, were working late at a construction site with Uncle Killian and Uncle Justin.
Colm would have had the entire apartment to himself, something that was rare, given the number of family members who treated the place—the Collins Dorm—as home base for…well…practically everything. Pretty much every Collins celebration took place either here in the pub or upstairs. From graduation parties to bridal showers, his huge, crazy, fun family always managed to find something to celebrate, and damn if they didn’t do it in style.
Just this morning, Darcy was buzzing around the apartment, her excitement almost tangible as she pointed out that with their annual Halloween party happening this weekend, they were kicking off the official “Collins social season.” After the Halloween party—which Sunnie and Darcy had been planning for ages—it was one festivity after another as they hosted Friendsgiving, Thanksgiving dinner, a Christmas party, and then rang in the New Year in serious style.
Colm was exhausted just thinking about it. Which was unusual for him. He always looked forward to family events, but this year…this year it felt like h
ard work.
Shit. The job really was getting to him.
He rubbed his eyes, then kept them closed, breathing in and out slowly. He’d almost found peace when there was a loud scratching sound of the stool next to him, sliding across the floor.
“Fucking fuck of a fucked-up day.”
Colm sighed. He should have gone upstairs.
He didn’t bother to open his eyes to acknowledge the new arrival. “Hey, Kell.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He glanced over and saw her looking at him curiously.
“Were you asleep?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. I was relaxing. And it was working. Until you showed up.”
Kelli rolled her eyes, completely unrepentant about disturbing him. Not that he should be surprised. They knew each other far too well for her to ever genuinely take offense over anything he said. Same went for him.
Kelli had been Padraig’s best friend since kindergarten. Leave it to his twin brother to pick a girl as his best friend. And not just a girl but Padraig’s polar opposite. Padraig was an easy-going, quiet, gentle soul.
Kelli, on the other hand, was brash, loud, opinionated. She and Colm had butted heads for as many years as she and Padraig had been friends. Probably because, as Colm’s mother liked to point out whenever he bitched about her, she and Colm were too much alike. Which Mom insisted was probably the reason why Padraig adored Kelli so. As if that was supposed to make him like her better.
“Hey, Paddy,” Kelli called out when Padraig returned from the stockroom with a new bag of peanuts. “I need a glass of cab sav. A big glass.”