Wild Irish: Falling for Wild (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Melanie Shawn

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Maribeth Carmichael. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Wild Irish remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Maribeth Carmichael, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Falling for Wild

  By

  Melanie Shawn

  Acknowledgement

  To Mari Carr,

  Thank you so much for inviting us to come play in your fabulous Wild Irish World! We are so honored, and had so much fun becoming temporary members of the Collins Clan. We love you!

  *Melanie and Shawna

  Editing: CookieLynn Publishing

  Cover Design: Valerie Tibbs

  Table of Contents

  Falling for Wild

  Acknowledgement

  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

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Other Titles by Melanie Shawn

  About the Author

  More Wild Irish Kindle World

  Chapter 1

  “If you want the job, Chloe, it’s yours. Welcome aboard!”

  Chloe couldn’t believe her ears. Right out of law school and she was being offered her dream job—the first job she’d applied for—during the interview.

  Am I asleep? Is this more than just my dream job—is it actually a dream?

  But, no. Her new boss, Caitlyn Wallace, had said the words. It was real.

  A grin split Chloe’s face from ear to ear. “When do I start?”

  Caitlyn’s answering smile told her it was the right response. “Well, since your salary is being paid out of a grant to fund advocates for children going through the system, and we can start billing against the grant account as soon as we hire someone, is tomorrow too soon?”

  “Perfect!”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Even though you’ll be acting as an independent advocate, you’ll be doing a lot of work in conjunction with Child Protective Services, obviously. But, you’ll have contact with all kinds of public employees. If a department in government service deals with families in any way, you can bet it will touch one of your cases at some point. So, I was thinking I could take you around to the Social Services building, DHS, the Housing Authority...introduce you to my contacts.”

  “Maybe make the red tape a little less sticky in the future?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve found that relationships go a long way when we’re working for the disenfranchised. Sorry to shatter any law school Atticus Finch dreams you may have had, but the majority of our work happens outside of a courtroom. Our job is to give a voice to the voiceless, to help overwhelmed public servants see our clients as human beings deserving of dignity, rather than a number on a form. So, it helps to have rapport.”

  Chloe nodded, her cheeks flushing and a thrill of anticipation passing through her. She hadn’t even officially started the job yet, and she was already learning so much. She’d always dreamed of having a confident, strong, brilliant woman to mentor her—someone who would demand excellence but also give her the support she would need to achieve it. Someone who would expect more from her than she was capable of, and then help her grow to be someone who was capable of it.

  She wanted someone to be Diane to her Alicia, basically, but without all the politics and backstabbing of The Good Wife.

  She’d never found that relationship in undergrad. She’d certainly never found it in ultra-competitive law school.

  Maybe she would find it now? In this tiny two-person (now three-person!) law firm in Baltimore?

  “I’m really excited, Chloe,” Caitlyn said as she stood and led the way to the door. “I think we’re going to do really good work here together."

  “I’m thrilled, and I can’t wait to get started.”

  As Caitlyn left her at the front door, she gave Chloe a quick hug. Casually, naturally, the way you would say a quick goodbye to a family member. Warmth rose up in her, and she was filled with anticipation for the future, totally untouched by anxiety. That was a feeling she’d been chasing for seven long years, through both undergrad and law school.

  She bopped her head and hummed “Walking on Sunshine” by Katrina and the Waves as she strode along the sidewalk. That was the ultimate feel-good happy song, in her opinion. As she made her way down the busy street, she felt like Melanie Griffith in another eighties throwback—Working Girl. All she needed was a pair of tennis shoes to go along with her power suit.

  Of course, Chloe mused with a smile, at least my suit doesn’t have shoulder pads. Not everything to come out of the eighties nostalgia craze was as awesome as the music and the movies.

  “Hey, lady. Gimme your purse.”

  She stopped short. Cold fear washed over her, the icy sensation working its way down her scalp and then enveloping her entire body until even her fingertips and toes were frozen and numb.

  Run, dammit!

  Her brain screamed instructions at her as her would-be assailant twitched and fidgeted in front of her. He’d popped out from around a corner, greasy and thin, and he held a small, rusty pocket knife that he jabbed at her half-heartedly every few seconds. It was clear to her he was too jittery to be in full control of the situation, most likely from needing a fix. If she could just get her feet to move, she could most likely get away.

  But that was the problem—her feet wouldn’t move. And no amount of berating from her subconscious seemed to be lighting a fire under her.

  “Come on, bitch! Don’t make me hurt you!” he rasped.

  She couldn’t move. It wasn’t stubbornness that made her resist his commands. She wasn’t being brave. Just the opposite. She was scared shitless. Paralyzed by it.

  Was she going to die just minutes after she’d started thinking that life was coming up roses? Was fate really that cruel?

  She squeezed her eyes shut and made one last, futile attempt to move her muscles in any way—to run, to hand over her purse. Nope. Nada. No dice.

  That’s when she heard a deep voice coming from just inches away. It was hard, commanding, and left no room for argument. “Step away from the lady. Right now.”

  Chapter 2

  Chris didn’t know what the hell he was doing getting involved in this situation. The jittering little meth-head—or cocaine-head? or PCP-head? Jesus! He didn’t know!—was probably going to end up stabbing both of them—him and the woman—because his addled brain couldn’t see reason.

  Great.

  So this was how he was going to die. He’d spent his life charging into house fires and forest fires without giving a second thought to the danger, and now he was going to die on a side street in Baltimore, where he and his boss (and buddy) Jake had come for a professional training seminar.

  The irony, dammit, was too much. He was going to bite it while training for his dangerous job, not doing it.

  Not that situations like this were new to him. His dad had been a cop in DC. So were his two brothers and his sister. As a firefighter, he was kind of the black sheep of the family. />
  But there was a good reason he’d made the choices he had. His father had been killed in the line of duty when he was ten years old, trying to stop a convenience store robbery. He’d never had a chance, the perps were high and crazy. They shot him in the face the second he yelled at them to freeze.

  And they’d gotten away with $116.12. He would never forget that number. That was how much his father’s life had been worth.

  So, while his siblings had been drawn to policing as a way of honoring his father’s sacrifice, he’d had the opposite reaction. He decided he’d rather learn from his father’s example. Running into fires required a certain kind of bravery, but at least fire wasn’t cruel, like humans could be. Fire wouldn’t shoot you in the face for $116.12. Fire just burned.

  He’d made it his life’s mission to stay out of situations like that, stay away from people like that. But when he’d seen the dirty, scraggly man thrusting the knife at this beautiful redhead, his lizard brain had taken over. He was filled with white-hot righteous anger. This would not happen! Not on his watch.

  He’d walked right over to the punk and told him to “step away from the lady.” And then he’d stepped in front of the woman, shielding her from the knife, and waited to see what the guy would do.

  So, now they were all at a standoff. No one said anything, no one did anything. A sense of calm washed over Chris. He didn’t know why. He hadn’t suddenly developed some previously-hidden robber-fighting capabilities that would give him any real cause for confidence. But just because his newfound sense of calm control was unsupported by fact didn’t make it feel any less real. He just knew, all of a sudden and for no reason he could fathom, that everything would be fine. It felt like puzzle pieces falling together inside his mind.

  At the same instant that this newfound sense of clarity and purpose washed over him, the junkie caught his eye and stilled long enough to hold Chris’s gaze. As their eyes met, the energy shift was palpable. Chris saw it in the guy’s eyes, the flicker of understanding. The moment they recognized in Chris that he was the alpha predator in this situation.

  The knife made no difference. The real power in the situation was measured in willingness to do whatever was necessary, fuck the consequences. And when it came to that, there was no contest.

  Without another word, the junkie turned and ran down the alley from which he’d originally stepped out.

  Chris turned back to make sure the woman was all right, to comfort her, to see if she wanted to call the police—whatever he could do to help. Her face was a blank stare, and she was trembling uncontrollably. He put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Hi,” he said, his voice now gentle and comforting. “I know that was scary. How can I help?”

  Whether it was his voice or touch that snapped her out of the trance she’d lost herself in wasn’t clear, but her gaze crystallized, and her eyes snapped up to his. She flushed. “Oh, no. Please, don’t worry. You’ve done enough. God. That was amazing. Thank you. Really. Thanks.”

  As she babbled out her gratitude, she hitched the strap of her bag farther up on her shoulder and fumbled in the side pocket with shaking fingers, eventually pulling out her keys.

  “It’s no problem. Do you want to file a police report? I could go with you.”

  She started off down the street, her cheeks completely aflame now, and called back to him, “No, no. Don’t worry about it. But, thank you!”

  Shit! She had completely disappeared into the crowd before it even occurred to Chris that he hadn’t gotten her name.

  Chapter 3

  “Thanks again for the ride, Chloe. It saved us having to go back to the office.”

  “No problem. Thank you again for inviting me out.” Chloe grinned at her boss as she turned the engine off and climbed out of her SUV. The large vehicle had been a law school graduation gift—and huge hint—from her parents, who still harbored the not-so-secret wish that she’d give up her law dreams and settle down with a husband and 2.5 kids. Not gonna happen. It wasn’t in her DNA, and she’d been fighting that expectation her whole life.

  Although...if the husband part of the equation looks anything like the hot guy who chased the junkie away...hmm…

  She shook her head to clear it. Ever since that encounter, “the guy”—she didn’t even have a first name to call him by in her thoughts!—kept popping into her mind at the most inopportune times. She knew it must be a reaction to the terror of the encounter, coming right on the heels of the thrill of having gotten the job, ridden out on the wave of the stress of wanting to do a good job during her first few days at work. All of these tumbling emotions had combined to imprint him on her brain in a way that no other man had ever done before.

  Right?

  RIGHT?!

  All week, new details kept popping into her mind. His wavy blonde hair. His chocolate brown eyes. His broad, strong shoulders.

  The way he had taken control of the situation with a quiet authority that still gave her butterflies to remember. How commanding his voice was when he’d talked to the knife-wielding punk, and how kind it was when he’d talked to her.

  Every night since the encounter, he’d been the last thing she’d thought about before she went to bed, and the first thing her mind zeroed in on as soon as she woke up. Damn, she’d even had dreams about him!

  All the more was left to her imagination because she didn’t know any real, true facts about him. She’d been inventing identities for him and trying them on to see if they felt right.

  Maybe he was Mike the Marine whose favorite ice cream was chocolate chip and whose favorite movie was Fletch. Or maybe Greg, who owned a construction company and loved pizza with anchovies (which was his only flaw).

  She sighed. It was getting out of hand.

  As she walked down the block with Caitlyn, her boss nudged her with her shoulder. “I’d say you deserve a night out. It’s been an eventful first week in the Baltimore for you.”

  “Yes, it’s come complete with both a new job and a mugging.”

  “Hey, we’re a full-service city. What can I tell you? But you did forget one thing.”

  Chloe cast her mind back over the events of the week and came up blank. “What’s that? What did I forget?”

  Caitlyn’s smile was a little wicked. “The guy. You know, the one who risked his own life to come to your defense? Your hero? The one whose name you didn’t even bother to get?”

  “Oh. Him.” Chloe struggled to keep her cheeks from flushing, but it was a losing battle. She could feel the prickly heat spreading across her face despite her best efforts.

  “Yes. Him. Don’t worry. I won’t push for details. I just didn’t want you to forget about him.”

  Ha! As if that would even be possible. “It’s not like it matters. I’m never going to see him again.”

  Caitlyn shrugged. “Who knows? Life has a strange way of subverting our expectations sometimes. Okay, here we are.” She paused with one hand on the door to the pub they were about to walk into. “I’m warning you… I have a big family, the majority of them are going to be in here, and they’re going to treat you like family because you’re with me. It can be a little overwhelming if you’re not used to it.”

  Chloe smiled. “Are you kidding? I’ve dreamt of being embraced by a big, boisterous family my whole life!”

  Caitlyn threw her head back and laughed. “Well then, honey, get ready for that dream to come true."

  As they walked in, it seemed to Chloe that Caitlyn was stopped every two feet by someone giving her a hug or a slap on the back or—in the case of her family members who were carrying trays or drinks—just a warm smile. Caitlyn introduced Chloe to each of them, and while she knew she would never remember their names, she was impressed and warmed by the way they greeted her so enthusiastically, even though they had just met her.

  Finally, Caitlyn grabbed her arm and pulled her over to a booth. There was a handsome man sitting in it already, and Chloe wondered if this was yet another cousin or some othe
r sort of relative. However, that idea vanished like the wind when she saw how they looked at each other. She didn’t know what this man was to Caitlyn—boyfriend, fiancé, husband—but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt they were in love. Head-over-heels, stars-in-their-eyes, weak-in-the-knees, honest-to-God love.

  Chloe felt a little twinge of jealousy. Not over Caitlyn’s man—she didn’t even know him. But over that feeling. It wasn’t what she had ever thought she wanted, or hoped for, or worked for. But, wow, did it look good when she saw it now.

  Do these thoughts have more to do with Hero-man? Is his sudden appearance in my life what’s got me thinking about falling hard?

  She squashed the idea immediately. No use thinking about him. She was never going to see him again anyway.

  The man stood to greet them, although it was clear he only had eyes for Caitlyn. He could barely tear his gaze away from her long enough to shake Chloe’s hand. Chloe felt a kernel of optimism taking root inside at the sight. Damn, she thought. Maybe every relationship out there isn’t as cold and perfunctory as my parents’. Maybe true love does exist after all!

  “Chloe, this is Lucas.” Caitlyn’s eyes shined just as bright as Lucas’s when she turned to Chloe to do the introductions. “Lucas, this is Chloe. Remember, I told you about her? She’s filling the independent child advocate role that the grant we received makes possible.”

  “Oh, right. The grant. I remember.” Lucas’s small smile as he said the words, and the conspiratorial look he shared with Caitlyn, gave Chloe pause—not to mention an inkling that they might know more about the grant than they were letting on.

  She sat down on the empty side of the booth while Caitlyn and Lucas slid in opposite her.

  “So, how are you enjoying the job so far?” Lucas asked.

  “Oh, I love it!” Chloe gushed. “I’ve only just started to see the tip of the iceberg with how I could help kids in the system. I’ve had to pinch myself so many times this week because I can’t even believe it’s real. It feels like a dream—the chance to do so much good with my career. The chance to help people—and not just any people, but kids. It’s incredible.”