The Irresistible Irishman: For St. Patricks Day (A Holiday Springs novel)

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The Irresistible Irishman: For St. Patricks Day (A Holiday Springs novel) Page 13

by MJ Fields


  In a blink of an eye, I managed to fall for a sweet, sexy, loving woman who believes she’s damaged. And my employee, no less.

  As a successful businessman, it is my job to look at all prospects, be it property or personnel, objectively. I can look at a building and see exactly what needs to be done to bring it up to the Hawthorne standard of excellence. I have no qualms about putting my money into any worthwhile project.

  Personnel…people, that's a whole different issue. If a person doesn't carry the confidence and belief that they are of Hawthorne’s standard of excellence, I do not waste my time nor effort.

  A person who doesn't believe in themselves cannot be forced to do so—not in my experience anyway. Insecurity and depraved self-worth is, therefore, an incurable disease.

  She sees herself much differently than the way I see her.

  She sees herself as broken.

  I know better than to think I can change a human being.

  I just have to decide if I can change myself back to before…Sarah.

  This desire, this need, this nagging and strangling feeling to protect and provide all at the same time, this feeling called love provokes, is utterly infuriating.

  Why me? Never have I fallen victim to this kind of…attack.

  Why now? I’m far beyond an age to begin believing in fairy tales or the ridiculous belief in soulmates.

  How the fuck do I stop it?

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Maireann lá go ruaig ach maireann an grá go huaigh.”

  (A day lasts until it’s chased away, but love lasts until the grave.)

  - Irish proverb

  Beckett

  I pull onto the private road leading to my family’s sprawling estate, just outside Dublin. This is the home my parents bought after their hard work had finally paid off. It’s an exquisite property, rich in history. And as a young lad, it was thirty-two hectares of lush green land, surrounded by trees overlooking the North Atlantic.

  It was the place my parents loved the most. The place where they nurtured my brothers, myself, and Hawthorne.

  Coming home from Oxford University during breaks, holidays, or any location I’ve traveled for business around the world, I’ve always stopped back here before returning to London.

  Regardless of the time of day I rolled in, Mum was waiting with a cup of tea and biscuits. If my return was in the evening hours and my father was still awake, we had a nip of his favorite whiskey, Bushmills 21, and discussed what else?... business, before retiring to bed.

  Even after my parents passed away, this place remains my first stop after a trip. Here, I’ve always been able to breathe in the fresh, clean air, taste the ocean mist, and reset. I liken it to how my brother Theo and Lex describe their beloved ‘power naps.’

  Sitting at my father’s desk, sipping tea that Clodagh —the estate's executive housekeeper— brought to me as soon as my arse hit the leather desk chair. She informed me my brothers were alerted that I would be returning to Dublin and were taking a power nap. She then asked if I’d like them to be woken up.

  “No, thank you, Clodagh. I won’t be needing anything more.”

  With a kind, familiar smile, she nods. “Welcome home, Beckett.”

  “Thank you.”

  They know how I feel about that term. It’s nonsensical in our world. If any two words in the history of language should not be strung together, it is power and naps.

  “Not true.” I pull my phone off the cherry wood desk and open up my photo app, and scroll through all the photos I’d taken over the past few weeks of Sarah. “Cancer and Sarah are far worse.”

  “Who is Sarah?”

  I nearly drop my phone at the sound of my brother Theo’s voice as he and Lex walk into the office, both looking as if they’d just woken up, and that’s because they have.

  “Nothing for the two of you to worry about.”

  I set my phone down and look up at them as they exchange a glance.

  Walking over, Lex shakes his head. “Not getting a pass, brother, spill it.”

  “Fuck,” I huff as I sit back and run my hands through my hair. “I want no bullshit from either of you, understand?”

  “Oh, wait.” Theo chuckles. “The moment we’ve been waiting for is upon us.”

  Lex sits down in one of the chairs, cracking a grin, and tosses my own bloody words at me. “Don’t do it, mate. She’ll have your mind a mess of worries and your cock hard at inopportune times.”

  Theo keeps the ribbing going. “Aye, and you’ll be sick of her pussy yet still fucking it because it’s cheaper to keep her than to pay alimony and child support.”

  Lex carries on. “The business will go belly up, and you’ll have put thousands of people out of a job because you bought into the whole fairy tale bullshit.”

  Theo throws his head back and barks out a laugh. “Because love is a façade for fools.”

  “Next thing you know, he’ll be changing nappies on the boardroom table.”

  I cut Theo off. “Sarah can’t have children because she had cancer, and that opportunity was taken away.”

  They both look shocked. I know exactly how that feels. They look at each other and appear to have a wordless conversation before turning back to me.

  Lex nods. “Perfect for you then, isn’t she? When do we meet her?”

  For the past few weeks, we’ve poured through properties in the Aspen / Vail area, as well as California’s wine country, and a few possibilities in Florida. Hawthorne US was already mine, but now I am firm on expanding much faster than previously considered.

  There is one property, in particular, that must be mine.

  The issue? It isn’t on the market.

  The solution? If enough money is waved before anyone’s face, they will take it.

  Why do I have to have it?

  Sentimental reasons and as fucked up as it is to admit it, it feels good, too.

  I touched down in Colorado a few hours ago, stopped at the townhouse to confirm Sarah had, in fact, moved out, which Julia had already told me. Although doing so was asinine, I needed to see it for myself for some fucked up reason.

  I know she has rented a place. I even conducted an internet search of the address and got razzed about it. Theo and Lex informed me it was called ‘internet stalking.’ I was offended for a solid …second. If wanting to make sure that she wasn’t back in the shithole I pulled her from makes me a stalker, oh fucking well.

  When I touched down, I contacted Raff. My godson Nathaniel has a soccer game, and that plays perfectly into my plan for the evening.

  Surprising Sarah.

  Raff Graham is one of my oldest and most treasured friends from our days at Oxford. He and I roomed together as freshmen, we drank and partied at pubs, and inevitably ended those nights by finding women and going our separate ways. On occasion, we may have shared more than a cocktail until his dick fell in love, got married, and settled down.

  As against marriage as I have always been, there was never two more suited for one another than Hope and Raff were. The three of us remained friends through college, marriage, the birth of their son—they chose me to be his godfather. Odd choice since I never withheld the fact that children were never in my future, never once considered having one, until I fell in love with Sarah and learned she couldn’t have one. She would be an amazing mother, and if she’d asked for one, I’d have given her twenty.

  Raff’s wife, Hope, was an American woman from this very town, Holiday Springs, in which he and Nathaniel now reside. They moved here after she was tragically killed in an accident and left him a widow and Nathaniel motherless. Nathaniel struggled, as did Raff, and the move here was made by choice to be closer to Hope’s family, something Nathaniel needed desperately.

  We’ve remained friends through all of life's changes.

  Walking onto the field to meet ‘coach’ Raff, I watch as he walks away from a crowd of soccer moms. The tension he holds in his face, and his entire being gives me pause. I know th
at look. We’ve been each other’s wingmen for the years before Hope, and the ones following, in which I dragged him out to pubs when he was all but settling into a depressed life of widowhood. But now? He’s sniffing.

  His rule here is that he doesn’t sleep with anyone attached to the town, but watching him now, very uncharacteristically flirting with a woman, a gorgeous redhead at that, gives me pause.

  I stand for a moment and watch as they exchange something of a peculiar glance.

  He nods when he sees me as we both walk toward the players’ bench.

  I point toward the redhead. “And what was that all about?” He rolls his eyes at me. “She’s bloody gorgeous.”

  “That, my friend, was a challenge.” He smirks. “And you know how I love a challenge.”

  I remember our last time out together. “True. But lately, you’ve seemed to like the easy wins. And it’s been working for you. Why change that? Remember—”

  “Well, this one isn’t easy. Or blonde. But if you saw her smile, you’d know she is worth the chase.” He looks over to her.

  “So, you’re not planning to add her to your fuck buddy circuit?” I say it loud enough to make him uncomfortable.

  He looks around to see who may have heard me and then narrows his eyes as he looks back at me.

  “Love fucking with you in front of the good old parents of Holiday Springs.”

  He shrugs my arm off of his shoulder. “To answer your question, no. I do not plan to add her to my...circuit. She’s not like that.”

  She’s not like that. I’m fairly certain I’ve heard that one other time before.

  I’m happy for him, truly. He’s a family man and deserves to have the whole package, wife, and kids. Nathaniel could use a few siblings as well.

  I follow him toward the field, and we both grab a soccer ball. We played together at university; we still play on occasion for a men's team in the city.

  We watch as Nathaniel kicks the ball to one of his teammates as they warm up on the field.

  “Move left!” Raff yells to him, and Nathaniel does just that.

  “He’s really quite good.”

  “Yes.” The pride in Raff’s eyes and smile are evident. “He’s a good kid.”

  “My Godson? The best.” I kick up a ball and begin dribbling it as I watch him glance back over at the soccer moms. “Where does the challenge live?”

  “Her name is Nikki, and she lives here in Holiday Springs.”

  “What happened to never dating anyone from Hope’s hometown?”

  “I said that prior to meeting Nikki, and before finding out she and I actually have a lot in common.”

  Curious, I ask, “And what’s that?”

  “Both of us have that one person, mine Faith, hers her friend Jenny, constantly trying to hook us up every chance they get. I decided I didn’t like the idea of her going out on dates with anyone else.”

  “Oh?” I turn fully toward him. “I recognize that look, Raff. This feels like more than a challenge. In fact, this feels like something serious.”

  “You think it feels that way, aye? The last thing I’d ever trust are feelings. As you always say, feelings are not real, Becks.” He smirks.

  “Firstly, the line goes: Feelings are not real, Raff.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “It’s the same way you looked when you and I first saw Hope at the pub in Chelsea after a football game. Remember that?”

  “Do I.” He nods, but I notice him look back toward the redhead, a look of guilt crossing his face. He looks away and back to the field just as Nate takes the ball again.

  I watch as Nathaniel moves so fast that both Raff and I start cheering him on.

  When he scores, Raff claps and yells, “Good play, Nate! Good play!”

  Once we’ve both stopped applauding him, I nod toward the redhead and think of my own challenge. “Think you are going to win this game?”

  “As the Americans say, hell yeah.” He lifts a shoulder. “You know, Beckett, I don’t have to try to egg you on. Although wagers always make things more fun. Nikki will be a little bit more difficult to win over than Hope was. Plus, I’ve got Nate now. Higher stakes. Anyway…” he shakes his head, “I can’t put a wager on this girl.”

  “Well, that about settles it then. Now I know you’re falling hard. What’s her story?”

  “She’s just returned home after living in Manhattan for years. She grew up here in Holiday Springs. Her family owns Winterfield’s Sweet Spot.”

  “Manhattan’s a tough city. Must have spit a sweet thing like her out. Winterfield’s...is that where that girl Nellie works? Mouth like a hoover, that one. Did I ever tell you what she did to me with that peppermint—”

  He cuts me off just like I knew he would. I love ruffling his feathers. “Anyway, Nikki had a nasty breakup and now despises men with money.”

  “Hates money? I thought a woman like that didn’t exist.” Well, my sweet Sarah does get a bit spicy when I use mine on her, but she’ll get over it. I push back my own quandary and stay engaged in his excitement. “My God. If you can get her, clearly, she’s a keeper.”

  “Oh, I’ll get her. Question is, when?”

  “I’ll never understand why a lass once scorned shies from a man who has the means and desire to take care of her properly.”

  “Are you by chance speaking from experience?” Raff asks.

  “Aye.” I nod.

  “We just spoke days ago, and you didn’t mention a word.”

  “Thought it best to mention it to the woman herself, first.”

  “Guessing things haven’t gone as planned?” Raff chuckles.

  “Might have scared her a wee bit, but she’ll come around.” I nod.

  “What did you do?” He accuses…rightfully so.

  I shrug a shoulder. “Took advantage of her attraction for me. Don’t regret it one bit.”

  Obviously, I won’t give him the entire story. I feel the need to protect her from others knowing where her insecurities stem from.

  I look up and off in the distance, and to my surprise, I see…her climbing the stands.

  Raff follows my gaze. “Gonna have to stop you right there and remind you she’s Hope's sister.”

  “I’m aware of who Faith is. We walked down the aisle together for your wedding. It’s not Faith. It’s the woman with her.”

  I hum. “I think I’ve seen her around. At the bookstore, maybe.”

  “She works at the Hawthorne Hotel in Aspen but has lived here in Holiday Springs.”

  “That’s quite a drive.”

  “We won’t have to weather it for too long. She’ll be mine completely by Christmas.”

  Her eyes finally find me, and I can’t help but get off on her reaction. I lift a chin and smile at her.

  “Try not to scare her, for fuck’s sake. You look like the goddamn big bad wolf right now, ready to eat her up.”

  “I assure you, she’s fully capable of handling my demands.”

  “Still putting the cart before the horse, I see.”

  I don’t look away from her. I couldn’t if I had to. She, however, looks from me and at Faith. I know damn well she wants to run.

  Silly little thing thinks she has a chance.

  Chapter Nineteen

  There can be lunacy without love, but is there any great love without a little lunacy?

  -Yochanan Tversky

  Sarah

  He is wearing a long-sleeved black shirt that’s fitted to his chest and a pair of light wash jeans. Bouncing the soccer ball on his knees and laughing with his best friend Raff, I’m sure most of the women in the bleachers are swooning. His dark brown hair is styled in a fresh crew cut, and the scruff along his chiseled jaw makes my knees weak. Just remembering that manly scruff rubbing against my inner thighs as he went down on me has my insides clenching. Beckett Hawthorne is so good-looking—it’s almost otherworldly. And it’s not even just how sexy he is on the outside. It’s this feeling I got when our eyes locked. A fee
ling that went straight to my bloodstream, causing tingles in all my most intimate places while also warming my heart.

  Watching him stand on the sidelines with Raff for Nathaniel’s soccer game, I’m dying inside over how much I’ve missed him. And there he is, so relaxed and fucking confident with that overly cocky smile on his lips that’s both gorgeous and intimidating as hell.

  We haven’t been in touch other than a few simple texts in weeks.

  Hey, thinking of you.

  My reply?

  Okay.

  And my favorite from a week ago.

  I’ve got a lot to discuss with you. Been thinking and need to see you.

  I replied,

  Not a good idea.

  —and that’s all! That’s all we’ve said to each other in all this time. And now he’s here in Holiday fucking Springs! I feel like the place that is supposed to be my solace has now been invaded.

  I sit up for a moment, adjusting the waist of my jeans. Chocolate ice cream has become my new crutch, while he’s clearly been working out at the gym and living the high life. With the way his shirt fits, I wouldn’t be surprised if he went from a six to an eight pack.

  Why God, WHY?

  “How about I grab us iced coffees from Dunkin? It’s just across the street.” Faith points forward, but I can barely see anything but Beckett.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Look.” She angles herself, so we’re eye to eye. “I know that you’ve been suffering over the Irishman. And on my word, I had no idea he’d be back in town this weekend. I feel like shit right now over the coincidence, but I promised Nathaniel I’d be here for his game, and—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Faith. I know you didn’t know. I just wish that after he left, I would never ever have to see him again. Some bridges are meant to be burned.”

  “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind burning him. With a lighter, so it’s slow and painful—with wax.” She looks out at him and smiles. “I would take him up to bed, take out my riding crop, and whip his ass like this...” She makes a whipping motion with her hand, and I try not to laugh. I fail miserably, giggling.

 

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