Page 22 of Shamrock Kisses

A mischievous grin spreads across his face, and before I can fully process, he throws me over his shoulder. I let out a scream, but it’s not out of fear—it’s pure excitement. There’s no way I’m telling him to put me down. I don’t want him to.

“Time for our cold plunge,” he announces, grabbing the towels and opening the door.

“Patrick!” I squeal, laughing uncontrollably as he runs toward the lake.

I haven’t felt this excited about a guy or done something so crazy like this in a long time. There’s something different about him. The way he looks at me, I know he’s genuine. He’s not playing emotional games. He could have said no to this wild idea, but I’m glad he didn’t. With him, I feel free, silly, and wild. I’ve been with confident guys before, but they always made me feel small in comparison. Patrick’s confident too, but there’s a sweet uncertainty in him, like he’s surprised I even want to be here. It’s endearing. He doesn’t put on an act, and that makes me want to drop all mine too. I can be vulnerable with him withoutworrying about being judged. That’s rare, and it’s making me feel things I didn’t expect.

“Here we go,” Patrick says as his feet hit the water’s edge.

The March air bites at my exposed skin, but nothing can prepare me for the plunge. The icy water slams into us, a shockwave coursing through my body. Every nerve jolts awake, the cold hitting like a punch, and I lose my breath.

My scream dies in my throat as I’m pulled under the freezing water. Every muscle tightens in protest. Patrick is right there, gripping my hand, pulling me up. I gasp for air, my lungs burning, my skin prickling with the cold.

“Fucking freezing,” he stammers, his voice shaking as we stumble toward the shore, still holding hands. The water sloshes around our legs, but my body is too numb to feel it.

“Why do people do this willingly every day?” His teeth are chattering in sync with mine.

I can barely speak through the laughter, my body buzzing with the sheer thrill of it all. My skin feels raw, my hair sticking to my face, but I feel alive—more alive than I’ve felt in so long.

Patrick grabs a towel, wrapping it around me. The warmth is a relief, and I cling to it, trying to regain feeling in my fingers. He goes in for a kiss, and I smile, meeting his lips despite the cold. He’s shivering too, grabbing the other towel for himself.

“I’ve never done that before.”

I stand there, heart racing, staring at him. Adrenaline is still coursing through me, and I know exactly what I want next.

“Shower?”

He smiles, interlacing his fingers with mine. “There’s one in my room …”

We stumble through the door, dripping wet, still buzzing from the plunge. As I gather my clothes, the reality of being half-naked in my biggest account hits me. I glance down at myself—just a towel, hair dripping. This is moving fast, faster thanI imagined. But when I catch Patrick’s eye, all hesitation slips away. He’s looking at me like he sees all of me, not just the girl in a towel. I’m too caught up in the thrill to stop now.

“We’re just going to make out in the shower while we warm up,” I tease, nudging him as we walk farther into the house.

But truthfully, I want more.

As we head upstairs, I clutch my towel tighter. It’s strange—I’ve never felt this vulnerable. The playful banter, the teasing. It was fun. But now, nerves are kicking in. I’m confident, but deep down, I’m scared. Nothing about Patrick says he’s a one-night-stand guy. And while I want to sleep with him, I know this is more than that. This is real.

Patrick’s staying in a guest room overlooking the lake. He kisses my forehead before walking into the bathroom. I hear the shower turn on, and I take a deep breath. This was my idea. I smirk, following him in.

Leaning against the counter, I watch him. Removing the towel, I let it fall to the floor.

“I like you undressing me.”

“You … you—” he stammers, and it’s so cute. “You want to be naked in the shower?”

“Of course.”

His eyes dart down my body, and I feel so sexy as he checks me out in my underwear.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, unclasping my bra.

“Yes,” I whisper, “but first, I really need to warm up.” My bra drops, and he gets on his knees, kissing my lower stomach. When he bites the waistband of my underwear, my breath hitches.

“Patrick …” I murmur as he pulls them down with his mouth. A smirk is glued to my face, watching him take off his boxers. I instinctively bite my lip at the sight of him.

“I’m surprised you’re not harder,” I tease.

“I’m freezing too!” He pokes me, then motions for me to enter the shower.

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