Page 44 of Lucky In Love

“I’d like to think I am.” I nod as I cross my arms.

“Now, what I’ve never seen is my best friend act like she did when she saw you. She’s never been struck silent like that. She’s a tough chick who has been handed a pile of shit and is wadding through the mess. So, whether you’re serious about getting to know her, or just looking for a one-time fling where you both get your rocks off and walk away smiling, I don’t care. She’s an adult. She can do whatever, or whoever, she wants.”

I think about what she said for a second. She’s offering her friend to me on a silver platter. “This sounds way too good to be true. What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I’m not pimping out my bestie, bar man. I’m just trying to get my girl laid. She needs it.” She lets out a big belly laugh. “And by the look on your face, you want to eat her up. So go do it. Worst she can say is no and we leave. No harm, no foul.”

What’s the harm? I could go in and check on her, make sure she’s okay. We don’t have to do anything. I’m just being a responsible bar owner, making sure my customers are safe and happy.

Yea, that’s it. No funny business. Just me doing my job.

I knock once on the bar signaling my farewell to her, and march my happy business minded ass toward the back hallway.

One hand on the door plate, ready to push, I take a deep breath. Who am I kidding? Business minded my ass—I want this woman bad!

Chapter 3

Frankie

Drying my hands, I take one last look in the mirror to make sure my makeup is still smudge-free. Deeming myself as good as I’m going to be to not scare anyone in my near vicinity, I toss the paper towel in the trash and pull the door open. A large body comes tumbling in, almost knocking me over.

It’s Declan.

With some amazing agility, he finds his footing with only a few sharp stomps of his large black boots, then is back to standing tall. It’s not until now that I realize how tall he is. Sitting on the bar stool is deceiving to perception sometimes, so seeing him here is a bit shocking. I’m not short at five foot eight, but Declan has to be at least a few inches over six foot.

“Sorry about that, bean ádh. I almost knocked you over.” Declan reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me into the hallway.

“What is that you said?” I sense an accent he hides well, but I want to know what it means.

“Bean ádh,” he says again slower. BAN – OW. “It means ‘lucky woman’ in Irish. I’m from Ireland. A small town in Silgo. Maybe I’ll take you there one day to visit where I was born.”

I’m dumbfounded. The things he’s saying, the sweet name in a foreign language, talking about where he’s from, it’s crazy. No one does this when they first meet, at least no one I’ve ever met before. And the way he’s holding my hand… I feel calluses and rough skin, but his touch is gentle and calming.

His thumb brushes back and forth over the inside of my wrist, almost putting me in a trance, so I barely notice my feet following Declan’s backward steps. I know I could object, pull back and stop him from leading me deeper into the darkness, but I don’t want to. I want to go wherever he goes. His pull is more than physical, I feel it inside my chest. I’ve never felt so at peace.

Declan never loses a step as he opens a door at the end of the hall with his free hand, then reaches into the opening to flip on the light. The glow makes me blink a few times to adjust to the brightness, but then I see a surprisingly big office inside what my mind thought was a small broom closet.

Inside straight ahead is a big leather office chair tucked behind a large desk. A laptop sits open on the surface, the rest covered in stacks of papers. To the left, one wall is corner to corner filing cabinets, and across the room to the right is a couch that looks identical to the one my paternal grandma had in her living room—olive green and burnt orange paisley pattern bordered with what was once white lines, the fabric faded from time and use but still comfortable and sturdy.

I notice more pictures hanging on the walls in here, same as out in the main bar area, but when I try to step closer to look at one of what I’m guessing is Declan in his teenager days, my steps forward are halted when I’m pulled back into a solid wall.

No, not a wall. A chest. Declan’s chest. His body forms around mine, his front to my back, making me feel like I’m being wrapped in the warmest, tightest embrace.

“Is this okay, bean ádh?” he asks, his lips skating softly along the side of my neck.

There are those words again. Lucky woman.

Am I lucky? If you would’ve asked me an hour ago, I would have laughed and told you no way. But right now in this bar, in this office, in this man’s arms, I’d say I’m taking what I can get and holding on for however long it lasts.

“Please,” I beg, the words escape my lips from no power of my own.

Next thing I know, Declan spins me around and I have to grab hold of his shirt to steady myself. His right arm catches me around the waist, his left hand holds my face tilted up to his, and I barely have a second to catch my breath before his lips are on mine. Heat. Dizziness. From chest to groin, we are connected. Our legs and feet seem to find their slot, pulling us as close as we can be together with our clothes still on.

Declan’s kisses are soft but soul-stealing all mixed together. He only lets me up for a breath when he needs one, then pulls me right back under the waves. He devours me, consumes me, showing me a need and desire I never knew existed. His lips are determined, demanding, but sensual. All I can do is hold on as his tongue finds entrance while I kiss him back with everything I have. It’s addicting.

He releases me on unsteady legs, but I find my footing only to be spun around again. Hands on my hips now, Declan steps backward, then pulls me down in his lap as he sits on the couch. My legs straddling his hips, I get my first full feel of what he’s been not-so-subtly been rubbing against me. I don’t know what they give growing babies over in Ireland, but whatever it is, thank their mommas. Today is my lucky day.

“I really should’ve thought this through better,” Declan mumbles in between kisses as he moves his lips across my cheek. “Back on your feet.”

---