Doctor Lucky Charms: A Holiday Romance (Kilts and Kisses)

by K. C. Crowne

  I rolled off the bed, stretching my arms and cracking my back. I looked around the room, paying attention to how charming the little spot was, the way the sun streamed in through the east-facing window and filled the room with warm, golden light. I could’ve stayed there all morning – especially if Joann were good enough to come back and join me.

  I pushed thoughts like those out of my mind as quickly as I could, getting myself ready to start the day. My phone read a little after seven-thirty, which was a good time to get up. It was Saturday, but I still had plenty to get done over the weekend. For a doctor who owned his own clinic, work never stopped.

  I threw on my clothes, stepping into my dress shoes on the way out. As I did, I noticed something change in the smell of food in the air – namely, that it went from the smell of food cooking to the smell of food burning.

  Without hesitating for a moment, I hurried down the hall and the stairs, rushing to the kitchen. Once there the smell grew stronger, a bit of smoke gathering at the ceiling. I’d half-expected Joann to be passed out on the floor or some such. What other reason would she have for not being aware of food burning on the stove?

  That wasn’t the case at all. Instead, she stood at the sink, staring off at the window in front of her. As far as I could tell, she was in a daze, like she wasn’t there at all. Without wasting a second, I hurried over to the stove and turned it off, then moved the cast iron pan to a burner that wasn’t on. Inside the pan were a few strips of bacon, now charred, and pancakes that looked fine from above but were blackened on the bottom.

  “Uh, Joann?”

  From behind I could see her shake her head, coming back into the moment.

  “Joann!”

  “Huh?” she turned. For a brief second, confusion was on her face. When she realized what was going on, that there had been a near disaster in the kitchen, she rushed to help out.

  “Shoot-shoot-shoot.” She pulled the rubbish bin from under the sink and brought it over to me. I dumped the contents of the cast iron skillet into the bag, a bit of black still on the bottom of the pan.

  “Oh, great.”

  “It’s fine, it’s fine,” I said. “Just a little carbon, that’s all.”

  She brought the pan over to the sink to wash it out, but I quickly stopped her.

  “Cast iron, darling,” I said. “Don’t get soapy water on it unless you want rust with your pancakes.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” She took the pan away and went for the paper towels and began cleaning off the surface. Before she could do the job, more burning filled the air. We turned to see a thin stream of smoke coming up from the stove.

  Before I had a chance to react, Joann rushed over and reached for the burner.

  “Jo!”

  “Shit!” She yanked her hand back, holding it with the other. “I burned myself!”

  What a mess. I ran over to check on her, taking a closer inspection at her hand. There was a red line from where the burner touched her, but it didn’t look all that severe.

  “Dammit, what was I thinking?”

  I looked around. “You got any aloe plants about?”

  She scrunched up her face, trying to think. “Oh! There’s the little garden in back. I’m pretty sure there’re a few potted aloe plants among them.”

  “Stay here, and try not to set the house ablaze while I’m out, yeah?” I winked, and she playfully rolled her eyes – a good sign that let me know she wasn’t hurt all that bad.

  I hurried outside, the garden right behind the brick terrace which itself was directly behind the house. Sure enough, there were a dozen or so potted plants on little wooden shelves in front of them. Spotting the aloe plants took no time at all, and I quickly broke off a piece and ran back into the house.

  Joann was seated at the big farmer’s table in the kitchen, two mugs of coffee in front of her and an expression of annoyance on her face.

  “One of these is for you.” She gestured toward the coffee, the red burn on her hand visible for a moment. “Not sure if you wanted cream or anything.”

  “Black’s fine.” I sat down next to her with the aloe in hand. I dabbed a little of the goo from the bottom onto my finger, then placed it on the burn. I rubbed it in gently.

  “How’s that?”

  “Better. It mostly stopped hurting while you were outside.”

  “Burns are nothing to mess with. You accidentally break the skin, and you might get an infection.”

  She smiled slightly. “Mostly just feel like an idiot. Or an idjit as you Irish say.”

  “What happened? I came into the kitchen, and it was like someone had cast a spell on you.”

  Joann shook her head. “Just got caught up in a daydream.”

  I kept her hand in mind, giving the burn another look. “Well, I hope it was worth the burn.” I smiled and she matched it with one of her own.

  “It was.” Her gaze lingered on mine, her face gorgeous in the morning light that filled the kitchen. I couldn’t help but kiss her.

  Our lips touched and she kissed me right back. My cock shifted, and part of me wanted to take her right then and there on the table, but before the kiss could go in that direction, my stomach growled.

  “Sounds like someone’s hungry,” she said, breaking the kiss and sitting up.

  “I suppose I could go for a little something. Looked like you had pancakes in mind.”

  She narrowed her eyes, as if considering the idea.

  “I did. But that kiss has me hungry for something else.”

  My cock moved again her bold words.

  “Oh yeah? Like what?”

  Joann, her eyes locked on mine, reached down and placed her hand on my cock. She stroked it slowly through my pants, making me fully stiff. I returned the favor, putting my hands between her thighs and rubbing the soft skin, moving up and up until I touched the edge of her panties.

  “Why don’t we take this upstairs?” she asked with a mischievous glimmer in her eye. “Then we can talk about breakfast.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  With that, I stood and scooped her off the chair, a happy squeal coming from her mouth as I carried her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the bedroom for a little more of the fun we’d had the night before.

  Chapter 25

  RONAN

  I arrived home a bit late that afternoon, spending the rest of the morning with Joann passing the time in about the loveliest way imaginable. I hadn’t wanted to leave, and I’d been pretty damn sure that she’d wanted me to stay.

  A text from Aiden, however, had pulled me out of my mini vacation away from the world. As I stepped back into my flat, the sounds of the town outside a gentle din through the windows of my living room, I set down the two bags of groceries I’d picked up from my corner grocery and hurried to the spare bedroom that I used as my office.

  Got an email from Sidney, the text from Aiden had read. You’re going to want to sit down and read it carefully.

  I sat down in the high-backed office chair in front of my computer and placed the mug of tea I’d quickly made myself on the desk. The sky had darkened over the course of the last hour, the clouds visible from my big picture window darkening the town below. Rain began to gently patter as I booted up my computer and went to my email.

  Information Regarding Change in Contract – that was the subject of the email from Sidney. His emails tended to be of a less formal nature, with subjects that tended to read something like Read this now, Dr. Irish! Seeing a more professional subject heading didn’t sit well with me.

  A bit of lighting flashed in the sky, the weather making me glad that I was in for the night. One click later and I had the email opened, my eyes scanning over the handful of words.

  “Sidney, you fecking prick.” I spoke with a touch of frustration and a touch of admiration – the man had a hand, and he was playing it.

  The gist of the message was that Sidney had every intention of making the focus of the show our journey in getting the shelter open
. If we were to go in that direction, he was going to push up shooting of the show. Don’t want to be sitting around with my dick in my hand for God knows how long – that had been the oh so charming way he’d put it.

  So, if we wanted help with the shelter, it was going to come with a serious change to the contract. Namely, that he didn’t want to wait around for us to decide when it was time to start shooting.

  He wanted it to happen the coming Monday.

  Shit.

  I rose from my desk chair, picking up my mug of tea and turning my attention to the window. Sidney was playing hardball. He wanted to film his show, and he wanted to film it on his schedule. Truth be told, deep down I’d been wanting to put the show off for as long as possible, maybe even deep down hoping that I’d be able to return to real life and just sort of…forget about it.

  Sure, I wouldn’t have the money for the house, but maybe we could simply wait until the profits from the clinic had accumulated. At the rate we were making money, it’d take six more months to recoup our investment in the place, then six more before our savings were replenished, then six more after that until we had the cash on hand to buy the place. What was another year and a half?

  Sidney’s offer coupled with his timetable made the issue impossible to ignore. My only options were going through with it and starting filming on Monday or trying somehow to back out of the contract. There was no doubt that the former would mean legal hell for the next few months at least, and likely a hell of a lot in lawyer’s fees.

  I dropped back into my seat, taking my phone out of my pocket and typing up a text to Aiden and Collin.

  Read the email. What do we think, boys?

  I didn’t need to wait long for a response.

  The first was from Aiden. Are you kidding? The sooner we start filming, the sooner we get the show on the air! Honestly, I don’t get why we haven’t started already!

  Well, that certainly made his opinions on the matter loud and clear.

  Collin’s text was next. We’ve been talking about doing this for long enough. The faster we get this over, the faster we can get on with the shelter and the real work at the clinic. It was to the point, true to form for Collin.

  Well, the boys had made their opinions clear. If I were to say no, I’d be putting the biggest fly imaginable in the ointment. I took one more sip of my tea, a soft rumble of thunder sounding in the far distance.

  Not much of a debate, I typed. Unless you two have any objections, I’m going to email Sidney and tell him to plan on starting Monday.

  The text was thumbs-uped by my brothers within seconds.

  I turned my attention back to the computer and typed up a quick response to Sidney, telling him that I’d talked with the others and his arrangement worked for us – he could start filming on Monday.

  I hovered my curser over the “send” button for a moment, understanding acutely that my life was going to change forever once the email was off. Who the hell knew what was going to happen once this show was on the air?

  The thought of the shelter in mind, I clicked the mouse and that was that. The computer made a little “whoosh” sound effect, and they email was off. I put my feet up on the desk, resting the mug on my belly as I watched the rain splash against the window. I had a damn good feeling that peace and quiet was going to be in short supply. I needed to savor it while I could.

  A chime came from the computer, and I glanced over to see that an email from Sidney had already arrived. I clicked and read the email, which was a very enthusiastic confirmation of the plans to begin on Monday.

  I sighed when I finished, trying to imagine what our peaceful little office would be like with a camera crew running around. I’d need to make sure all the patients knew that they were under no obligation to participate, that they could even ask me to tell the camera crews to be completely out of sight while they did their work. It was still going to be a mess.

  I didn’t even have much time to ponder that. A rapid knock sounded from my front door, the speed and rhythm letting me know right away who it was. A grin on my face, I hopped out of my chair, mug in hand, and made my way to the front door.

  The knocking continued.

  “Keep your britches on!” I called out. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

  Once I was at the door, I opened it up and on the other side was none other than my dear ma.

  And she looked pissed. Without saying a word, she reached up and gave me a swat to the side of my head.

  “Ow, Ma!” I exclaimed, stepping backward. “What in blazes was that all about?”

  She clucked her tongue at me as she came into the house, shutting the door behind her and heading over to the kitchen island. Once there, she began unpacking the groceries I’d bought, setting them out neatly on the counter.

  “You know, the fact that you don’t know what I’m upset about makes it even worse.”

  Despite the occasional walloping my ma liked to give me, I loved the woman like crazy. Ma was short and stout, with a head of silver hair tied into a ponytail. Her eyes were green and dark, glimmering with intelligence and hinting at all the gossip she was keeping track of in that head of hers. Ma was one of the biggest social butterflies in Sandy Cove and took it as a point of pride that she knew every little thing that was going on around these parts.

  As she shook her head while she organized the food on the counter, it hit my why she was so peeved.

  “Ah!” she reached in the bottom of the bag and pulled out the bottle of whiskey that I’d bought. “At least I raised you well enough to know to always have a fresh bottle around for your dear ma’s stop-ins.”

  She eagerly cracked open the bottle and pulled two glasses down from the cupboard.

  “Now,” she said while she poured. “Here’s the deal, me boy. I’m going to make a little something with this food I just pulled out. While I do, you’re going to tell me every last fecking detail about this woman, got it?”

  That was another thing about Ma – she lived across the street and on the same block as me in the little townhome where we all grew up. That meant she knew whenever when I was coming and going. Ma called it “curtain twitching” – meaning pulling the curtain back from her house to see what was going outside.

  There was still the question of how she knew about Joann.

  “Where’d you hear about a woman, Ma?” I asked. She passed the whiskey over and raised her glass in the air. With a “slainte,” we took our sips.

  “There we go,” she said. “Lord knows I’ll be needing a bit of the creature if I’m going to be prying information out of my own son. Now, out with it, lad. And where do you think I heard about it? Your cousins let me know first thing this morning!”

  Of course that’s where she’d heard. No idea why I hadn’t picked up on that right away.

  “But they’re not the only people who told me. The McMillians were at the Marleybone too, and you’d better believe they let me know about the American who was out on a date with my boy.”

  Dating in Sandy Cove, like everything else, was never a secret. Silly me thought I’d be able to get through at least one day without the town prying for details.

  “So.” She had her eyes on the food as she spoke, setting aside some onions and potatoes and garlic, along with the few ribeyes I’d picked up. “She’s a yank, is she?”

  “Eh, kind of.”

  “What do you mean kind of, boy? Did her ma birth her on the fecking border of Canada?”

  I laughed as my mom set the steaks onto a cutting board and began seasoning them with salt and pepper.

  “No, she’s a yank in the technical sense, but she’s not far removed from Ireland – her grandmother was Mary McCallister.”

  Ma stopped what she was doing, her eyes going wide. “That’s Mary’s granddaughter? You’re fecking kiddin’ me!”

  Ma and Mary had been close, the two of them part of the same little gaggle of older widows who loved keeping an eye on things in town, chatting over tea or whiskey
, depending on what time of day it was.

  “It’s her,” I said. “And there’s a hell of a lot more to it than that.”

  “Well, out with it then! I cook, you talk!”

  I took one more sip of my whiskey, giving myself a chance to collect my thoughts. When I was ready, I told Ma everything. I told her about Joann, how she’d come into town to speak to the potential buyer of Mary’s house. I told her about the reality show, how it was going to start filming Monday. As I talked, Ma prepared a dinner of steak topped with caramelized onions with a side of roasted potatoes.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Ma said as she took the pan of potatoes out of the oven, the aroma mouthwatering. “I miss a week of coming into the clinic to check in on you boys and this is what happens.”

  It’d almost slipped my mind that Ma had been absent from my life over the last week. Normally, she’d be popping into the clinic and dropping off homemade snacks and sweets for me and the rest of the staff – snacks that were so damn good my brothers and I often nearly came to blows over them.

  “Oh, how was Brighton, by the by?” I asked as Ma plated up the food.

  “It was fine, fine. A little too sunny for my tastes. And damned if the Brits aren’t about the most irritating-” She closed her eyes and shook her head, stopping herself. “We’re not talking about me, boy – we’re talking about you. Tell me about the rest of the bleeding date! What happened?”

  “Eh…” I gave myself a moment, trying to figure out how to edit it for a mother’s ears. “We went back to her place to see the house, and that was that.”

  Ma let out a sharp, loud laugh. “And then you got into her knickers!”

  “What? Ma!”

  “Oh, come now – you can’t hope to lie to your own Ma. I had your little fibbing tells figured out from when you were a wee lad lying about eating cookies before dinner.”

  “All the same, not something I want to talk about with you”

  Ma laughed again. “Boy, I’d expect that kind of nonsense from your brother Aiden – not from you!”

  I shook my head and sighed. “It’s not exactly like that.”