IRISH: a Bad Boy Fighter Romance Page 3
I stared at him until I felt like my eyes were bugging out of my head, but I still couldn’t make his words make sense.
Marry him? Was he fucking crazy?
“I gotta get back to work,” I said and tried to side step away from him. Knox put his arm up against the wall, blocking my way. His hand was still cupping my face and I swore I could feel it at a cellular level, his heat merging with mine to create a swirling sensation of desire just under the surface of my skin.
“Ain’t nobody out there but my friend,” he said quietly, not taking his eyes off mine. “And he can wait.”
“George might wonder where I am…” My voice trailed off unconvincingly. I glanced out at the pub and it was empty. I might have seen a tumbleweed roll past.
“George won’t give a shite if I tell him you were with me,” he said in that incredible deep, accented voice. My knees felt weak every time he spoke, even if he was clinically insane. “So what do ye say, kitten? Want to be my bride?”
“I say no, I don’t even know you,” I replied carefully, looking him in the eye and grinding my teeth quietly as if to remind myself that I’m not the kind of woman who races off to marry a complete stranger.
Even one as dead fucking hot as Knox O’Connor.
“You’ll get to know me after the wedding,” he winked and looked down at my breasts that were heaving like I was trapped in an old-fashioned romance novel.
“I don’t love you,” I said, glaring up at him, daring him to convince me otherwise.
“Ah, kitten, that’s the glory in this. I don’t love ye either, we don’t love each other. This would be a business arrangement and nothing else,” he said with a glint in his eye. “Although I wouldn’t mind consummating the marriage a time or two of course.”
My heart sunk. That’s how much this man got to me. I actually felt a thud when my heart dropped from my chest to what felt like the pit of my stomach. He wasn’t that into me after all, this wasn’t some romantic gesture of instantaneous love where we would marry and live happily ever after.
It was strictly business.
With maybe some cheap meaningless sex tossed in for good measure.
“I don’t think so,” I replied with my heart hardened and my tone icy. “I really do have to get back to work.”
I pulled away from him then and stomped away from him.
I made it about two steps when he grabbed my arm and pulled me around to face him again.
I was about to protest when he stepped forward and pressed the entire length of his body against mine. He dipped down and kissed me again, his mouth claiming mine like he’d already said his vows.
My stomach clenched and my pussy quivered and my god I fucking wanted more.
But I wouldn’t be used like this, so I pulled myself away and fought every cell in my body to turn around and walk away from him.
“I’ll wait to hear your reply, kitten,” he chuckled and I could once again feel the weight of his gaze on my ass and cursed my tight jeans.
I walked behind the bar, grabbed my purse and told Charlotte, “You lock up, okay? I’m not feeling well.”
The frat boys had all scattered ages ago, so it was safe for me to walk to the bus stop near the pub and hop on the late night bus back home.
He didn’t even say good-bye when I left though, so what kind of connection could there really be?
Part of me had hoped he would run after me on my way out, but I was equally happy he didn’t.
Jessica was still up when I got home.
“Early night,” she said. “Want some tea with me?”
“Sure,” I replied, “but I think I’d prefer something stronger.”
“Bad night?” she asked with concern in her eyes. She poured me a glass of wine and handed it across the table.
“Just a bunch of frat boy assholes,” I replied and took a sip.
“Ah, the usual suspects,” she laughed. “Thanks for taking the flowers, by the way. Brody fucked up and was trying to make up for it. As if a stupid bouquet of cheap plants is the way to do it.”
She rolled her eyes but I knew she’d already made up with him. I would normally tease her about it, about being weak and a simpleton around men, but something had changed.
I could see the appeal, the obsession. Knox had made me consider marriage with just one short kiss, imagine if we were actually dating. I would probably do anything for him, and that was a scary thought.
“Good for you for standing up to him,” I said and held my glass up before taking another sip.
We gossiped about her work and I told her about my potential hours being cut, but I avoided all mention of Knox O’Connor.
I didn’t exactly know why, maybe I was afraid if I told her about it then it would all seem too real.
I wanted to keep Knox’s kiss to myself for now; it seemed to contain some magic that would dissipate if I told anybody about it. And I deserved to keep that magic to myself.
Chapter Seven
Knox
She bloody looked like I’d asked her to cut off her tits or something. I was Knox Fucking O’Connor, not some fucking hunchback begging her for a green card.
She hadn’t even stuck around to hear the details of my proposition, that’s how much the thought had horrified her.
I won’t lie; it was a wee bit of a blow to the old ego.
I walked back to the table where Joe, the new punching bag, was waiting for me and watched as she raced out the door, her purse clutched under her arm like a god damned gold brick. She was acting like I’d threatened to rob her blind or some shite.
And I still didn’t know her bloody name.
“Hey,” I called to the girl behind the counter. “Could we get some whiskey over here? The whole bottle, the best ye got, sweetheart.”
The cute little curvy blonde simpered and oozed excitement as she noticed me. She smiled and dug under the counter, producing a mediocre bottle and walking it over with two tumbler glasses.
“Oh my god, you’re Knox O’Connor,” she said as she got to the table. “I saw that fight last month with Carson, when you flattened him in thirteen seconds! It was amazing!”
“Thank ye, love,” I said and poured Joe and I each a glass of whiskey. “Hey, what’s the other girl’s name?”
“Oh, the bartender who just left?” she said, disappointment playing across her features. “That’s Lennon.”
“Like the dictator?” I asked in surprise.
She laughed. “No, like the singer. From the Beatles.”
“Ah, I suppose she gets that a lot,” I reflected. Lennon. I rolled the name around on my tongue as the waitress spoke non-stop to Joe about the fight she’d seen. Funny, this bird was talking about the fight longer than the actual fight took.
I poured another whiskey and downed it like it was water. I had to be at the gym by five in the morning, Joe too, but it felt like a long ways off right about now.
I was feeling a little too moody to listen to the waitress chatting up Joe, so I stood abruptly, knocked my chair back and said, “I’m heading out.” I tossed a few hundred dollar bills on the table and said, “This oughtta cover the whiskey and the shit those punks didn’t pay for. Keep the rest, love.”
The waitress picked it up and her eyes went huge when she realized how much it was. She smiled suggestively at me as if to say I had bought anything I wanted, but I didn’t even look in her eyes, I wasn’t interested.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Joe said and gave me that arched brow look that let me know he’d be banging the waitress before the night was over. I was grateful he’d occupy her good will after scoring so much cash.
“Til then,” I replied and walked away.
I had a head full of Lennon and it wasn’t going away any time soon.
***
“Have you given it any thought?” Jake asked as I hammered the bag endlessly. I was panting hard after doing a couple hours of warm up, but I still hadn’t broken a sweat in spite of the warm gym.
“I have,” I said, focusing on a point on the bag, pretending it was my opponent’s face I was slamming into. “I’ll do it, but I already found the girl.”
“No, we have somebody picked out for you,” Jake said, steadying the bag and standing behind it, absorbing some of the shock when I hit it with my fists.
“Can’t do it then,” I said and assailed the bag with one last fury of punches and pulled up, my breath catching as I focused on settling it down. “I have a girl in mind and I’ve already asked her.”
“You did what?” Jake exclaimed, stepping around the bag and watching me drink from my water bottle. “I hope it’s not that front desk clerk I found you with a couple days ago.
“Not her,” I grinned, “I can’t even remember that one’s name. This one I at least know who she is.”
“Where did you meet her?” Jake asked looking more than a little skeptical.
“George O’Malley’s,” I replied, eyeballing him as he thought about it.
“The little blonde waitress?” he asked. “I don’t know, man. You need somebody who will be discrete about your arrangement. I’m not sure a bar maid is gonna do it.”
“Not her,” I replied setting the water bottle back down on the bench. “I’m after Lennon, the stunning raven haired beauty with the ass the just won’t quit.”
“The one behind the bar? Oh shit, she seems ice cold, Knox. Ain’t no way she’s the type to agree to this. The girl we have is a cheerleader for some local football team. She’s a little older than you but she’s dying to meet you and hammer out the details of this arrangement.”
I pulled my gloves back on, positioned my hands in front of me and said, “Ain’t never gonna happen if I don’t get the dark haired one.”
“What did she say then?” Jake asked as I started pummeling the bag again.
I exhaled and laughed, hitting as fast as I could. “She told me no and ran away,” I admitted.
“She ran away after rejecting you? Shit, you do love a challenge. Listen, this cheerleader is totally into it. She would never say no and she would most definitely never run away,” he told me.
“Does she have silky black hair and emerald green eyes that sparkle like me own home country’s gorgeous rolling hills?” I asked with a cocky grin.
“No,” Jake admitted dejectedly.
I continued to dance on my feet and hit the bag. “Does she have perfect creamy skin and work as a bartender and have a low and sultry voice that could make a man hard at twenty meters?” I asked and danced around, hitting the bag and taking a couple shots at Jake for the fun of it.
“No, no, no and no. Fine, you win, we’ll figure out how to approach the girl,” Jake reluctantly agreed and picked up a blocker for me to box.
“Don’t worry about that,” I told him, “I think I have an idea.”
He winced as I slammed into the blocker, from my idea or the blow, I didn’t know. I didn’t care though now that my mind was working overtime and I had a goal in sight.
Chapter Eight
Lennon
George was waiting for me when I got in to work the next afternoon. I rolled my eyes and braced myself for his complaints about me leaving early or the frat boys not paying their bill. I’d assumed Knox had been bullshitting about covering it.
“We need to talk,” George said, nodding towards the office.
I was quiet for once, knowing I’d fucked up the night before by abandoning Charlotte to clean up for me. Had there been a large group coming in after me, she would have been completely overwhelmed. I hadn’t even checked in with George before I left. I deserved to be up shit creek without a paddle.
“Sit,” he said as we entered his office. “This might take a little explaining.”
“I’m sorry,” I said as I dropped into the chair. “Last night sucked and I don’t know what got into me. I’ll make it up to Charlotte, I promise.”
“It’s not that,” George said, waving his hand dismissively. “Although that wasn’t your best move.”
“Then what’s this about?” I asked.
“I told you I might be cutting your hours,” he said with a big exhalation of breath. “It’s worse than that. I might have to shut down the pub.”
“Shut it down? Why?” I wailed.
“My lease is over at the end of the month and they’re going to raise it by more than four times what I’m paying now. Shit, Lennon, I’m barely making ends meet as it is,” he explained. “Sports bars aren’t what they used to be, and I took out a huge loan to cover my daughter’s schooling.”
“How are you going to pay back the loan then?” I asked, flailing for a solution so I didn’t lose my job and George didn’t lose his pub.
“My wife’s nephew runs a little factory and will hire me to manage one of the night shift lines,” he said with a sigh. “It’s not ideal and I don’t want to give up the pub, but I just can’t keep hoping I’ll make enough money when it’s obviously not working.”
“What will I do?” I asked quietly.
“You’re young, you’ll find something else,” he assured me.
I thanked him and realized I only had a short time before George O’Malley’s sports bar was closed down and I lost my job.
“You hear the good news?” Kyle asked me sourly as I went behind the bar to get ready for the day’s shift.
“I can’t believe it,” I said, wrapping my apron around my waist. “I knew he was having trouble but I didn’t know it was this bad.”
“It’s a shock to all of us. I don’t know what I’m going to do, the job situation is so bad right now and it seems like everybody and their dog is a bartender. When I first started years ago being a bartender meant something. Not anymore.”
“Then I’m doubly fucked,” I exhaled and ran my hand through my hair, trying to tame it a little before work. “I haven’t been tending bar that long and I have no other experience really. Just waiting tables at a couple of shitty diners back home but nobody cares about that kind of thing.”
“Well let’s hope for a miracle for both of us then,” he smiled. He was older, in his late thirties, and I thought he had a wife and baby at home. I vaguely recalled him showing me family pictures a while back.
“Yes, definitely,” I replied and sent a silent prayer up to whatever deity was hanging out in the air above the pub at that moment.
The night went by fast, George left early and Kyle and I handled the moderate crowd.
Every time the door bell tinkled I jerked my head up though, looking for Knox.
I hated that it was an uncontrollable reaction, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.
“Expecting company?” Kyle asked me at one point, I responded by stammering and going bright red.
With Knox O’Connor on the brain, there was no playing cool.
At the end of the night I counted my tips and breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a good night and with this amount I could cover a week of rent.
I headed home intending to shove the bills in my savings jar that I kept up on the top shelf of my closet.
I was actually in a pretty good mood by the time I hopped off the bus and made it up our front steps.
I knew Jessica would be sleeping so I crept in as quietly as possible without turning on any lights.
My stomach rumbled so I tip toed into the kitchen to grab a snack.
I flipped on the lights and almost screamed when I saw the entire room stuffed to the hilt with flowers.
There were mostly roses of all colors, but there were daisies and lilies and bright sprays of exotic bright flowers I didn’t know the names of.
The entire room smelled like some expensive perfume, and every single surface had a wrapped bouquet or vase full of blooms laid on it.
“Jesus, Brody must have really fucked up this time,” I said under my breath, imagining Jessica’s boss and boyfriend begging her for forgiveness.
I made a sandwich on the tiny strip of counter not covered, grabbed a soda and he
aded to bed.
At my door I balanced the sandwich and soda and opened it, was about to close it when I noticed something taped to it.
I set my food down on my night stand and turned back to pull the paper off the door. I looked it over, tore open the envelope and felt my mouth hanging open as I read the note.
“I was serious, kitten. Marry me. KO.”
It was scrawled in a messy, masculine hand and my heart fluttered at the ridiculousness of this entire situation.
Did he even know my name?
Of course he must, he had my address.
Were all these flowers from him?
I turned over the card and read more.
“PS I had no idea what kind of flowers you like so I bought them all.”
I smiled at that, walked slowly back to the kitchen and was grinning like a mad woman as I scanned them all.
I’d wanted flowers, I guess I got flowers.
And Knox O’Connor too. If I wanted him.
I wasn’t sure that I did though.
Chapter Nine
Knox
“Find that girl’s address,” I told my assistant in the afternoon. I was determined to get Lennon’s attention no matter what it took.
I knew I had to get married, but it wasn’t going to be to some simpering hanger on. I wanted to find somebody I could stand to be around to fake this relationship.
And I wanted to be with somebody I might actually want to spend a little more than a couple nights in bed with. Somebody I could see myself fooling around with for a year or two before we broke it off, I paid her out, and we went on our separate ways.
And god dammit, Lennon was the kind of woman I could see myself claiming. Even if it were only for a short time.
I wanted her. I wanted to see her pale skin flushed with pleasure, I wanted to hear her scream my name as I sucked her sweet pussy.
And most of all, I wanted to feel her body tighten around my cock as I plunged into her, filling her with my seed and marking her as my own.
My balls ached at the thought of her naked body writhing under mine and I found it hard to focus on the paperwork in front of me.