Page 6 of Irish

“Hey!” Her voice cracked, heavy with unshed tears and relief.

Irish reached her in a few quick strides. Her cheeks were flushed, makeup smudged, and mascara lines betrayed the fact that she’d been crying. Regardless of the hot mess she was in, her raw beauty shone through brightly. On second glance, Irish saw a little girl, just like when she’d fallen off her bike and skinned her knee all those years ago, in a vulnerable state that needed help.

“Come here, Mak,” Irish commanded, opening his arms to her. She ran into them, like a long-lost friend, and he embraced her, wrapping her up tightly in his arms. Irish couldn't help but notice the way her curves filled out the dress, the softness of her against the hardness of him. She was no longer the gangly little girl he'd known, always chasing after her older brothers with scraped knees and wide, adoring eyes. No, this woman was heart-stopping femininity, wrapped up in white satin and lace. When had that happened?

“Look at you...” Irish began, but words failed him as he took in the sight of Makenzie—the transformation wasn't just physical, but something deeper. There was a defiance in her posture, a wildness that matched the untamed mane of her chestnut hair, and it struck him then—she was not just Sean's little sister anymore. She was Makenzie, the woman.

“I’d rather you not look at me. I’m a hot freaking mess. Thank you for coming,” she said.

“Anything for Sean,” he replied. He released her from his arms and opened the door for her to get into the truck. Thesecond he released her; he felt an emptiness. The responsibility to protect her felt natural, like an extension of his being—a dominant force rising to shield this precious and brave girl turned woman he’d loved his entire life, and never once admitted it.

“Who is this?” Makenzie said, turning to where Clover was hanging her head out the back window.

“This gorgeous girl is Clover. She rescued me a few years ago.” He reached in and rubbed her between her ears.

“She rescued you? Isn’t it normally the other way around?”

“Nah. I think it’s normally the dog rescuing the human. We just take credit for it.” Irish said with a small laugh. He helped Makenzie in the door and smiled wide when the first thing she did was to love on Clover.

“What a beautiful girl! What kind of dog is she?”

Irish grabbed the top of Makenzie’s seatbelt, pulled it across the layers of wedding gown and snapped it in before shutting the door and walking around to the passenger side.

“She is a Bernese Mountain Dog. She doesn’t normally like women so don’t be offended if—” Irish stopped talking, staring in shock as the large tan and black dog cuddled into Makenzie’s side. “I’ll be damned.” In the past five years, the only women Clover had tolerated were Trinity and Kylie.

Makenzie laughed softly.

“All dogs like me,” she said with a small shrug. “Remember, when we were younger and the dog bit Sean and then came over and sat in my lap?”

“I remember wanting to spank your butt when you called the damn dog over after it took a chunk out of Sean’s thigh,” Irish growled. It was one of many times she’d done something dangerous when they were children.

“Nah. He was a sweetheart.”

“When he wasn’t biting people…” Irish said as Makenzie burst into laughter. “So, should we stop and get you something more comfortable to change into?”

“I almost stopped in the terminal at one of the shops, but I realized I am going to need help getting out of my dress. It has about ten billion little buttons running up the back.”

“If you are okay with me helping, we can run into Target. Otherwise, it’s a few hours back to Grand Ridge. There are a couple of women there I know would be willing to help.”

“To be honest, I don’t want to walk through Target in this… it’s heavier than it looks. But I really want to get out of it.”

“How about this, you and Clover hang out in the truck, and I’ll run into the store real fast and grab you a pair of sweats and a comfortable shirt. Then, we can stop at the large rest stop in a couple of miles. There’s a family bathroom we can use. I’m sure Clover would like the chance to stretch her legs, too.”

Makenzie smiled gratefully at him. “That sounds perfect.”

“Here, take my phone and pull up what you’d like me to grab you and put it in the Target cart. If we order for pickup, we’d have to wait at least an hour.”

“You have the Target app?” Makenzie looked at him surprised.

“Yeah. I mean, men shop at Target too. I happen to like the pick-up option.” Their banter continued lightheartedly until they reached Target. Irish refused Makenzie’s outreached credit card and hurried into Target.

After he quickly grabbed the pair of joggers, camisole, and sweatshirt, he approached the self-checkout lane. Adding a couple of pieces of candy to the haul and two bottles of water, he checked out and headed back to his truck.

“The rest stop is only a few miles down the interstate,” he told Makenzie, handing her the bag. “I didn’t know what kind of candy you liked, so I picked up several to choose from.”

“I don’t eat candy,” Makenzie said, frowning.

“You don’t eat candy?” The little girl he’d known as a child was always getting into sweets. Was the woman sitting beside him a health nut?

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