by Anna Castor
Declan
Lucky Irish series 4
Anna Castor
Copyright © 2020 Anna Castor
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. DECLAN is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence, and explicit language offends you.
ISBN: 9789083046242
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. Introduction to the Lucky Irish series - Austin
2. Prologue
3. Declan
4. Bree
5. Declan
6. Bree
7. Declan
8. Bree
9. Declan
10. Bree
11. Declan
12. Bree
13. Declan
14. Bree
15. Declan
16. Bree
17. Declan
18. Bree
19. Declan
20. Bree
21. Declan
22. Declan
23. Bree
24. Declan
25. Bree
26. Declan
27. Bree
Epilogue
Adam - Winter Peaks
Also by Anna Castor
Acknowledgments
About the Author
1
Introduction to the Lucky Irish series - Austin
families in book 1 - 2:
Additional families from book 3:
Additional families from book 4:
Prologue
March
Tonight was the night. No more self-doubting and pussyfooting. Bree checked her lip gloss once more in the vanity mirror of the sun visor, flicking her tongue over her pearly whites. She righted her shoulders and took a deep breath.
The Texas heat engulfed her rich dark curls as she exited her beat-up purple sedan. After a few short brushes through her bouncy strands with her fingers, Bree gave up the effort to tame her hair.
She’d parked in her usual spot, behind Dec’s black Chevy on his impeccably clean drive way. How did he find the time to pull out all those weeds and tackle the overgrown mess when he was still renovating inside?
She’d been here almost every day and most nights for the past three months. At first, she’d helped Dec clean out all the junk left behind by the former owner. The house had been a steal, but not without reason. It had been a dump. A smelly, dingy two-story house in southeast Austin.
Never one to shy away from hard work, Bree assisted the Mills brothers and cousins wherever she could as they helped Dec in remodeling the two-story house. It had been fun learning some tricks of the trade from Dec’s cousins Keenan and Aiden who worked for their father’s construction company.
Bree used her hand to shield her light blue eyes from the lazy evening sun. She glanced up at the freshly white painted house and smiled. Finally, they were entering the stage of making this place beautiful again. They all had enough of tearing down and throwing away the old, rotten elements of the house.
Bree stopped in her tracks. The red paint of the small porch pained her eyes. That damn stubborn ass. After all the color-coding and Bree’s efforts in persuading him to go for a more gentle looking pale blue, Declan still went ahead with this God-awful vermillion.
Dec needed his head examined. She righted her little black dress and stomped in her high heels over said ugly red porch as Dec opened the door.
“And? What do you think?” he smiled a mile wide and opened his arms, showcasing a job he figured well done.
“You never listen, Dec.”
She shook her head as she walked up to him. Because if he would really listen to her—or take notice, he’d known how her stomach flip-flopped at the mere sight of his dimples. How her heart skipped a beat at his smiling gray eyes.
Damn, she was a mess. She would even put up with this hideous porch if it meant she’d live here with him, waking up every day in those muscular tanned arms.
“Squirt...” he said, and Bree winced at his nickname for her. She wasn’t the six-year-old tomboy following him around anymore. In front of Declan stood a twenty-six-year-old who just had an emergency video chat with her sister Gwenn about her outfit tonight.
She was on a mission. The normal ‘one-of-the-guys-Bree’ wouldn’t cut it. Tonight, she wasn’t the girl next door and Dec’s best friend in her favorite sweater and jeans. No. In front of Declan stood a WO-MAN.
Yes. She emphasized it out loud in her head and his smile faltered. He could always read her mind. So, how he didn’t read the signs of her pining and lusting over his Irish ass was the greatest mystery of all times.
Maybe he didn’t want to hurt her feelings by addressing it. Or he was afraid to have the same conversation she was about to have with him. Telling him how she felt might ruin their friendship. They both avoided this topic. Well, either way, tonight would be the start of a new chapter in their relationship. Hopefully, a chapter filled with lots of clothes ripping…
“I know, I know…” he said as he held up his hands, making his black stained T-shirt creep up from the top of his dusty jeans. She bit her bottom lip at the sight of his dusty trail of hair going down beneath his belt buckle. Bree cleared her throat.
“The color is gross, Dec. It’s—”
“Yeah, I know. You’re right. I should have listened to you. But at least for now, it has a coat of paint.” He shrugged before he opened his arms for her to step into. She couldn’t remember the time he wouldn’t invite her into his arms for a hug.
Even wearing a new dress for this special occasion couldn’t hold her from hugging his dirty torso. Clean, manly sweat and wood dust. She placed her cheek on his chest to get her fill. He squeezed her tighter for a moment and stepped back to travel his eyes over her.
“You seem different. What did I miss? Didn’t we talk this morning? What’s up?” Declan said as he took her biceps in his calloused hands. The observant cop side of Dec scrutinized her expression as he narrowed his eyes.
“Geez. I’m wearing make-up? Maybe that’s it?” Bree said as she tucked a curl behind her ear.
“No. That’s not it. It’s something in your eyes, not on your eyes. Your eyes always speak volumes to me. And they’re telling me there’s something going on you’d rather not say. What’s the matter?”
Bree sighed and shook her head. Why was this so hard? He was her best friend. She usually told him everything. Well, perhaps not that she’d masturbated this morning after hanging up the phone with him. His raspy voice after he’d just woken up had gotten her all hot and bothered. She’d needed some kind of relief before going into work and had made do with the showerhead.
Oh, how she longed to feel the real deal instead of getting off on just the thought of Declan. They stood so close she could almost taste him. Bree took a deep breath, full of his scent, and closed her eyes for a moment.
Okay, let’s do this. It’s now or never.
“Dec…” she said as she opened her eyes. His name came out in a pained whisper.
“What is it?”
His eyes searched hers for answers. As he cocked his head, his charcoal longer hair on top swished over his frowned forehead.
She swallowed the big lump in her throat and said, “
I’m in love with you.”
His brows shot up, and he took a step back from her. His hands let go of her upper arms. Losing his warmth and the lack of a verbal response made her involuntarily shiver. She looked up through her eyelashes and winced at his expression.
Dec rubbed his neck, exposing his hard bicep next to his ear. A smear of ugly vermillion paint graced his elbow. He shook his head in disbelief.
“Fuck, Squirt. I…”
She swallowed back the tears threatening to overflow her eyelids. After a few hefty blinks, the first damn tears descended. Declan wasted no time and beat her to it as he wiped them away with his thumb.
“Shit…”
He took her cheeks in between the palm of his hands and for a moment, she was sure he would lean in and kiss her. His stormy eyes locked onto hers, but she couldn’t read him. How could he control his emotions like this? Didn’t she affect him as he did her?
“Say you feel this too, Dec,” Bree said. The pleading in her voice was clear.
“I… yes, I love you.”
Bree’s heart rate went sky high, but his pained stare demolished all hope. And his next words shattered her heart into a thousand pieces.
“But not in that way. I’m sorry, Squirt.”
“Twins? But Ronan is so big and… rugged.”
Declan narrowed his eyes at his giggling date, Stacy, as she flung her hazel hair over her bare shoulder. Stacy tried to catch his twin’s eyes, but Ronan ignored her and nudged Declan’s leg with his knee under the table. “Told ye, Dec. These fine ladies like bad boys.”
Fine ladies, his arse.
He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. This was the last time he would let his brother talk him into going on a double date.
Ronan barged into Declan’s home this evening, declaring enough was enough with his moping. Declan agreed to tag along, although he much rather spend the night at Bree’s with her curly head resting against his shoulder.
Like a second home, Declan used to go over to Bree’s cozy apartment any time during the week. The former best friends would talk about their day, lounge together on Bree’s sofa and binge-watch the latest horror show.
She would tease him about being jumpy during the scary parts. He would tickle her side before pulling her in to rest her head on his chest.
Like a cat, Bree loved to curl herself around him. No words were needed. Until Bree declared her love for him six months ago and even being in the same room turned awkward. Let alone lying entwined on her sofa.
He tried to be considerate of Bree’s feelings for him, but his actions hurt her. He kept his distance so he wouldn’t lead her on. And to be honest, the distance also made sure he wouldn’t give in to his own feelings for Bree.
He’d promised himself a long time ago to never let any romantic feelings mess up the best thing in his life. He’d witnessed the nasty break-up between Ronan and Bree’s sister, Fianna. It ruined not only their friendship; it divided both families for a long time.
But this distance between him and Bree ripped his heart right out of his chest. And the longer their status quo continued, the harder it got to get back to being best friends.
Long, fake nails trailed his hand. Declan gripped his beer bottle so hard, his knuckles turned white. He pulled away from Stacy’s touch and brought his beer to his lips.
He was glad he’d driven separately tonight. Normally, Declan would make the most of his evening. Even during a bad date. He would try to keep the conversation flowing by broaching solely safe topics and laugh at the right moments.
However, Declan’s date showed more interest in his twin. And knowing Ronan, he wouldn’t mind going home with both ladies. His king-sized bed has seen more action than Chuck Norris, Bruce Willis, and Jason Statham combined.
He held back a snort when the two women cackled at another dumb joke from Ronan. Declan loved his twin. But man, did he have a big head. Undefeated in his weight class, Ronan’s attitude got worse by each win.
With his next MMA fight three months away, Ronan indulged himself with the groupies circling him like flies on shit.
“What do you do, Declan?” Stacy asked.
He titled his head and wondered where this sudden interest came from. They sat in a packed Velvet Club for almost half an hour now. Until now, Stacy merely answered with ‘yes’ or ‘no’, never asking him anything in return. She listened in on her friend’s conversation with Ronan and often joined in when Ronan made his date laugh.
Declan wasn’t insecure. He never lacked attention from the opposite sex. Perhaps, in this crowd, Declan was the dull and dutiful twin. The two women at their table were here for a good time between the sheets, not for good conversation. And that’s okay. But it definitely ruled them out as Declan’s type.
Maybe Bree would still be up and he could swing by her place tonight. Perhaps enough time had passed and they could work on getting close again. See if she’d already started on that new zombie show.
Stacy cleared her throat.
“Erm, sorry. I’m a police officer.”
He crossed his arms and watched closely for her response. It could go either way; although he wasn’t worried that she’d start a discussion about police brutality or riots. Stacy struck him like the kind that would—
“Hmmm. You can cuff me anytime and to anything, Officer Mills…” she licked her bottom lip before she leaned in from her side of the table. His eyes traveled from her mud brown eyes, down to the cleavage on display in a tight shirt that barely held her tits inside.
“Damn,” Ronan said next to him.
Declan rapped the table with his knuckles and pushed out of his chair. One shared look was all it took to let Ronan know he wasn’t going to the bathroom but hightailing it out of there.
Stacy shot from her chair, and it was then he realized he’d never answered her stupid remark about cuffing her.
“I’m off, Ro. Ladies, pleasure meeting you.”
“Wait!”
Declan turned and held Stacy steady with his hand firm on her bicep, halting her swaying arse from tumbling down on her high heels.
She blinked up at him. “Thanks. I guess I had a bit too much to drink.”
“No problem.”
Stacy leaned in and said, “I’d love to catch a ride in the back of your patrol car…”
“You’d better join my brother and your friend. I’m not into role-play. But I’m sure my brother has an entire collection at home for you all to play with.”
He hoped he’d successfully diverted her sudden attention.
Her eyes went wide, and she giggled. “Tessa told me about Ronan’s mirror. I’m not surprised he also uses toys.”
“Yeah, that damn mirror above his bed is notorious.”
He locked eyes with his brother over Stacy’s shoulder. “You got her?”
“Yeah, man. We’ll take her home. Talk to you later.” Ronan waggled his eyebrows and Declan rolled his eyes.
He took the fastest route and twenty minutes after leaving the Velvet Club; he knocked on Bree’s front door.
After the longest minute in history, Bree opened with a scowl on her face. Not her usual greeting.
“Hi, Squirt.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I… I wanted to see you.” He took a small step in her direction, but when Bree didn’t budge, he halted. She was dressed in her standard work attire; black pencil skirt, light blue button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone.
He wondered why Bree hadn’t changed into her sweatpants like she usually did right after coming home. Had she also been out tonight?
Bree fisted the door like it was her lifeline. “Why?”
“Do I need a reason to come see you?”
Bree tucked away a stray inky curl behind her ear. She shook her head. “No. Not really. I’m just surprised that’s all.”
“So, can I come in?”
Her hesitation devastated him. He tried to give her a genuine smile to persuade
her. But his smile fell flat the moment he realized she could see right through him.
“What’s up?” she asked.
He massaged the back of his neck. “I miss us.”
Bree’s eyes widened, and she let go of her firm hold of the door. She gave him a shy smile before she bit her bottom lip.
He placed his hand on her front door, and Bree took a step back. Her eyes traveled over his outfit and she frowned.
“First you wait months to come see me, and now you show up at almost eleven at night. Where have you been, anyway?”
He glanced down to his gray slacks and black dress shirt. Shit.
“I was out with Ro and some people at the Velvet Club.”
He didn’t want to throw his double date in her face, but it didn’t surprise him how well Bree could read between the lines. She jutted her chin at him and righted her shoulders.
“Ah, let me guess. Your date sucked—as in her personality sucked. No surprise there if Ronan introduced—”
He held up a hand.
“Bree—”
“No, no. You’re right. I don’t care, anyway. Look. I’m tired and was just about to turn in.”
“Squirt…” He didn’t know what to say. Why couldn’t he continue to give her the space she needed? A whisper in the back of his head said he knew why he stood here in Bree’s hallway, rather than cuffing Stacy to his bed right now.
It was the same reason he punched Joey Calvari in the face when he boasted how he’d kissed Bree under the bleachers. Or why his gut churned each time Bree talked about meeting some guy in college.
