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

by MJ Fields

  After Beckett left the house that day, I called her and broke down, telling her all about what happened between us from the email to the contract, the gorgeous townhouse he rented for me, the fantastic sex, followed by the serious feelings. And in usual Faith fashion, she listened to all of it with an open mind and heart. And then, did what any best friend worth her salt would do—trashed him to make me feel better.

  “I just thought that moving out of the townhouse and back here…the distance would help me get over this…man. And now, I’m worried we’ll bump into him. He mentioned to me on a few occasions how much he loves his godson Nathaniel. Maybe I should have realized this place is now his. My, God. Work and now my home? I thought I had finally separated them.”

  “We won’t bump into him,” she says with conviction. “This is still your place. Right now, he’s helping Raff coach the game. When it’s over, you will wait in the car while I grab Nathaniel off the field. And then the three of us will go directly back to my place, where we’ll hang out and cook a great lunch and relax. And from now on, I will do my recon to make sure he isn’t here when you are.”

  I nod my head, praying that I will get through the game and get back to Faith’s apartment without incident. “That iced coffee does sound good.”

  She taps my leg. “That’s my girl.”

  And then, against my better judgment, I lift my face to the field. Beckett is standing there, his green eyes boring into me like a laser beam. I try to shut my jaw, but it won’t close. His gaze is so intense—it plasters me to the bleachers. I’m here, he seems to tell me. And I’m coming for you.

  On the one hand, I’m dying for him to run up here and pull me into his arms and apologize. On the other hand, screw him! He ran out of the house that day like a bat out of hell and has barely reached out in all this time. With my own stare, I tell him, you motherfucker! You left me after my cancer admission and crushed my heart!

  “Vanilla hazelnut. Oat milk and no sugar?”

  I shut my jaw, pressing my lips together in a lame attempt to keep myself together. I turn back toward Faith and know that whatever happens with the Irishman, I still have my best friends by my side. I will be just fine and get through this like I have every other hurdle in my life. “Sounds great.”

  Throughout the game, I barely lift my head to the field. Instead, I scroll on random social media platforms and look things up like how to get fuller hair and better skin. Does Biotin really work? How to lose five pounds in five days.

  My eyes are drying out from my complete focus on my phone when Faith nudges me. “Ready to go?”

  “It’s done?”

  She smiles sadly. “Yes. Here are the car keys. You know where to go.”

  I lift my head up, wondering how to get out of here fast enough.

  I haven’t even opened the door to Faith’s SUV when I feel a firm hand grip my elbow, stopping me.

  “Don’t,” I whisper my plea.

  “Turn around, Sarah, and give me a proper hello.”

  “No,” I say firmly.

  “You’re contracted to obey me, and this seems like an awfully public place to bend you over my knee and—”

  I turn around quickly and look up at him and snap, “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Are you willing to take that chance?” He says with…reverence in his eyes as he pushes a lock of my hair behind my ear.

  “Why are you here?” I whisper, trying not to moan...God, his touch is everything good and evil.

  “I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”

  I bat his hand away. “You left without so much as a goodbye. You sent texts making small talk and then just stopped. Goodbye was weeks ago. The contract—”

  “Had no end date, Sarah.”

  “Well, it ends now. I’m not—”

  His lush lips crash against mine, his tongue pressing against my lips.

  My head says stop. My heart screams run, my body… molds against his as he presses his heaviness against me, pinning me to Faith's red truck.

  My hands run up his insanely muscular biceps, his arms, and rest on his shoulders.

  I vaguely hear snickers of the people walking past, and then…

  Pushing him away, I gasp. “There are children—”

  Smirking mischievously, he says, “Never wanted any, for good reason. They are literally cock blocks.”

  “Stop.” I shove him this time. “Just, leave. I—”

  “You love me.” He reaches to push my hair back, and I bat his hand away. He snickers and crosses his arms over his chest. “And I love—”

  “Uncle Beckett?” An excited voice calls from behind him.

  “This one’s the exception.” He turns, and I quickly right my clothing, hair, and wipe my lips as he squats down, arms wide open, accepting Nathaniel’s embrace.

  Nate dives into his arms and asks, “How long are you back for this time?”

  Laughing, he stands to his full height. “You bloody ignore me while you’re on the field and now—”

  “I was in game mode. I looked for you after the game. We won!”

  They high-five.

  “You did amazing.”

  “So, how long?” Nathaniel asks again, his chocolate color hair wet with perspiration.

  “For the foreseeable future. I have some properties I’m looking to acquire and a personal matter that needs a nice firm hand in order to—”

  Faith glares at Beckett as she cuts him off. “Which means you’ll see him again. But this weekend is ours. And we have plans, so let’s skedaddle.”

  “See you soon, Uncle Beckett?” Nathaniel says as Faith all but drags him around the vehicle.

  I turn to open the door, and he cages me between his arms.

  “I will text you later. This is not over.”

  “It’s been over. I—”

  “We’ll discuss this tonight. Preferably naked.”

  “I can’t do this with you.”

  “I can’t do this with anyone else ever again.”

  I turn and look at him and whisper, “Don’t you dare put that on me.”

  He whispers back, “You’ll be my cancer or my cure, Caile. The choice is yours. Which I will it be?”

  He walks away, and my heart breaks, and bursts at the same time.

  “You ready?” Faith asks.

  Nathaniel is an amazing young man, one who is no doubt one day going to woo every girl in this town, as well as outside its borders.

  As precious as this time is with him and Faith, I am not at all in the moment. Normally I would soak up every second I have around children, but clearly I’m too distracted.

  Beckett.

  Why is it much more difficult today? Nathaniel has talked fondly of ‘Uncle Beckett’ several times through the past few hours, and ‘Uncle Beckett’ has been blowing up my phone.

  The last text:

  Meet me at the back entrance of Blizzards bar in sixty minutes. I dare you to be defiant, as I’d love an excuse to bend you over my knee...and yes, Caile, if you don’t come to me, I will come to you. What’re another few miles today? I’ve flown all the way across the Atlantic just to have you again.

  Chapter Twenty

  Níl leigheas ar an ngrá ach pósadh.

  (There is no cure for love other than marriage. The only way to solve the troubles of being in love is to marry someone.)

  -Irish proverb

  Beckett

  After Sarah left, I headed back to help Raff clean up the field. I needed to discuss a potential business venture, and what better time to bring it up than while gathering cones and footballs.

  I explained the property that I was determined to acquire and what I knew about it, which wasn’t much as I put one of the net bags full of balls in the back of his vehicle. “I know it’s barely running, ever since the original owners died. But the son who inherited it, Sheppard? I can’t feckin’ find ‘im.”

  Raff shrugs. “From what I hear from bar gossip, he’s ex-military and wanders from place to
place, working at different ranches. He pays his taxes and hasn’t once returned home.” He shuts the trunk with a slam.

  “Well, he’s sitting on a gold mine. Natural hot springs, slopes that could easily be groomed—endless possibilities. It would bring this town a hell of a lot more business and steady business at that. Maybe you could talk to some of the locals and see if any know how to get in touch with him?”

  “I could try.” He looks at his watch, and I laugh as I walk away, knowing he nailed down a date. Raff is an organized man.

  Heading to my rented BMW, I call over my shoulder, “This could be good for us.”

  “I got out of the real estate investment game a long time ago.”

  Unable to help myself, I laugh. “Might be time to get back in. Unless you’re aiming for poverty now, to get little Ms. Nikki in bed.”

  He shakes his head, annoyed. “Remind me, Becks. When are you heading back to Ireland?”

  “Oh, did I forget to mention? I’ll be sticking around—indefinitely.”

  I watch from the bedroom window as she parks on the side of the street. Before exiting the vehicle—which she’s already made two payments toward into the account Alfred set up for that very purpose—she looks in the vanity mirror and fixes her hair.

  “Unnecessary, Lass. I’m going to make a mess of it.”

  As soon as I see her cross the street, I quickly make my way down the stairs to meet her at the back door of Blizzards bar.

  When she rounds the corner, I exhale a held breath, one I’d not known I’d even been holding.

  She looks from her phone and startles when she sees me. I grab her and pull her into a tight hold and inhale the scent of fresh, clean air, ocean mist, and the sweetness of Sarah.

  “You smell divine.”

  She says nothing, but within seconds, her body that melded into mine stiffens.

  “Let’s get inside.”

  “Beckett.” She pulls back. “I can’t do this.”

  “No training necessary, you need but lie down and let me have my way. It’ll be like riding a bike.”

  “Oh my God, that’s not what—”

  “Save the fussing for inside, then.”

  She grumbles but follows me in and up the stairs to the tiny studio above the bar that Raff keeps unoccupied for drunks who can’t make it home and wayward Irishman traveling abroad.

  Once inside, she steps a good six feet from me and holds out her hand like it’s a stop sign. “I’m angry at you for so many reasons that I can barely keep them straight.”

  I walk over and sit on the chair I plan to fuck her in first, cross my arms, and nod. “Let’s start with one and work our way down so we can get to enjoying ourselves.”

  “You’re infuriating.”

  “I’m a man who knows what he wants fighting a woman who won’t admit what she not only wants but needs.”

  She stops pacing and turns to face me. “You left without even a goodbye!”

  Shocked by her outburst, I start to stand, and she yells again, “No! I’m talking, and you’re listening.”

  Flexing my hands I tell her, “That’s one.”

  “Don’t you dare,” she snaps.

  “You’re asking me to go against who I am. I will dare. But as you know, I always let you finish first. Proceed, Sarah.”

  She throws her hands up and brings them down on her hips. “You were supposed to stay away, and you did one hell of a job doing just that. The texts slowly stopped as if you were weaning both of us from…” She snaps her mouth closed and begins pacing and carrying on again. “I can’t do this with you. Not with feelings involved. I can’t sit idly by and wonder how many women you’ve taken to bed, or—”

  “I’ve given you your opportunity to speak, and nothing but allegations, all false, might I add, have come out of your pretty little mouth. Now you'll listen to me and you'll do it sitting down because you're making me dizzy and hard all at the same time.”

  “You can't tell me what to do! You don’t own me. You don’t get to—”

  In one fell swoop I have her in my arms and on my lap, sitting in the chair.

  “Now you listen to me, Sarah, while I crush every damn lie you've told yourself. I did not leave without a goodbye. I said my piece while you were sleeping. Had you been awake, looking at me with those pretty brown eyes filled with tears, I never would have been able to leave.”

  She wiggles on my lap, I’m not sure if she’s trying to get up or get me up, but the latter of the two is what's actually occurring.

  “I never said I would stay away,” I continue. “I stopped texting because your responses were short, and I was trying to give you time, time to miss me, miss what we have. Time to think about how your life would be without me. Me? I didn’t need to take the time to think about it, I already know what my life was without you, and I know what it’s been since you, and I choose the latter. There’s been only one woman since I've left.” She truly tries to escape my grip now, and I quickly explain, “She's in her early 70’s and has worked for my family since I can remember.”

  She stops squirming and looks up at me. I can tell she doesn't want to believe me.

  “I apologize. There were four other women, excluding Clodagh. My sisters-in-law and my two nieces. You sure as hell can do this. Neither of us seems to have a choice, not when it comes to a feeling as such. I'm not sure if it's a blessing or a curse this affliction I feel, but I will not go another day without telling you that I am no doubt in love—”

  “Don't you dare say it. Don’t you do that to me.”

  “With a woman who has a stubborn streak ten thousand kilometers long. Lucky for me, I run daily, so I will catch you. And when I do, I will collar you. There will be no other for you, Sarah, and there will be no other for me. You are the cure for all that ails me. You are the reason marriage used to seem like a sentence and now seems like heav—”

  “Don’t, just don’t.”

  I place my finger over her lips. “Stop it now, Caile.”

  My lips brush against hers before our tongues tangle. Her body turns as her hands find my hair, gripping the strands at the roots. I lift her up and carry her to the bed, laying her on it. Our mouths never leave each other’s as I work the buttons of her jeans, hooking my thumbs in the waistband and pulling them down along with her lace panties.

  “We can’t do this,” she pants, working my buttons, then yanking my jeans down as far as she can. I step back and rid her of hers and then step out of mine.

  “How can we not?” I murmur against the side of her face tenderly.

  “Oh, God,” she whispers as I pull my shirt over my head, and she takes in my body and the added ink I had done.

  Arched across my lower abs, the words Soul Survivor are inked, in honor of her.

  Her voice is breathy and needy. I quickly pull her shirt over her head, snap her bra, and pull it down her shoulders.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” she says.

  “Yet here we are.”

  Her breaths are shaky, her pale skin covered in goose bumps as I position myself over her, my balls already tight and ready to explode.

  I push myself away from her, knowing that if I plunge into her right now, I will come and break a promise to myself and to her.

  “You have such a pretty pussy, bare and wet. And those lips, so swollen…so fucking swollen with need.”

  “Just—”

  I spread her open with my fingers, her body shaking with anticipation. She lets out a deep moan the second my tongue comes into contact with her wet, hot pussy.

  “Please,” she whimpers, her body undulating.

  “Please what?” I need to hear her say the words, to acknowledge that she wants me just as badly as I want her.

  She grips the gray comforter and looks down at me. “Please don’t stop.”

  I hum my satisfaction. “I don’t plan to ever stop.”

  With our eyes still connected, I bow my head and feast like a starved man.

  S
he cries out as I suck her swollen clit. Her hips buck, and she grinds against my face. I groan as I lick and suck on her sensitive flesh.

  I slide a finger inside of her, finger fucking her close to orgasm.

  “Your pussy is my favorite delicacy.” Face buried between her legs, I honor my promise to both her and me and she comes…first.

  I spread her legs wider and situate myself between them. Grabbing my cock, I stroke it a few times before pressing it inside of her.

  “Oh, God, Beckett!” she cries as I fill her completely.

  I hook my fingers into her mouth. Her tongue rubs against them before wrapping her hands around my wrist and sucking my fingers as she should be sucking my cock.

  Next time, I promise myself.

  Next.

  Time.

  For now, I press between her legs, inside of her, hard enough to take her breath away. I will not go easy on her.

  I wake in the morning on damp sheets—alone.

  “That’s two,” I say aloud.

  After stripping the bed, I notice a note.

  Irishman,

  If you’re ever in town again, don’t look me up.

  Just one more thing, consider this my resignation.

  Thanks for the pounding,

  Sarah

  I can’t help but laugh.

  As if this fucking day couldn’t get any more fucked up.

  When I heard Nathaniel’s voice in the hallway, I hurried to remove the bedding and shoved the sheets in the washing machine.

  When I slipped into the apartment, Nathaniel and Faith had already left. Now I’m hiding in the bathroom while Raff and a woman with a pretty voice, whom I presume must be Nikki, are having a discussion.

  This is ridiculous, but clearly ridiculousness hangs in the air like a storm cloud in Holiday Springs.