Lucky This Isn't Real: MacBride Brothers Series St. Patrick's Day Fake Fiance Romance by Jamie Knight (digital e reader .TXT) 📕

“I love everything,” she gushed.

“The airport?” I asked.

“The view when we descended took my breath away. The air somehow feels fresher. The people sweeter.”

I half expected her to begin spinning in circles and singing ‘The Hills Are Alive.’

“You’ve been here before,” I reminded her. “What has you so excited this time?”

“I’m here on my honeymoon. It makes everything so much more romantic. Besides, the last time we were here, it was for a quick four-day stay. Not enough time to see the true beauty.” She clasped her hands to her chest. “Ireland is the home of my heart.”

People started to look our way. Some were clearly beginning to recognize Gavin from his TV show, so we got out of there as fast as possible. Not least to keep her enthusiasm within my car.

Tourism was a major part of the Irish economy, particularly in Belfast, thanks to numerous TV shows being filmed there, Game of Thrones being one of them. But it was possible to overdo it. Had some of the locals caught on to her keenness, it would only be a matter of time before the accents went on really thick, and she would be being sold all sorts of tours.

On the way to the Europa Hotel, I played the role of tour guide. I’d spent my entire life in Belfast and knew it pretty damn well, despite the imposing size.

I was fairly sure Gavin would have driven her around himself, except his rental car wasn’t being dropped at the hotel until tomorrow. I was fairly particular about being the only one to drive mine.

So, he sat in the back seat, a little black storm cloud almost visible over his head as I drove them around the town, Maggie trying to take in as much as she could.

“Wow!” Maggie exclaimed as I rolled past the National Football Stadium at Windsor Park. “I would love to go to a real-life soccer game.”

“You mean football,” I corrected her. “You don’t want to be caught calling it soccer around here.”

She rolled her eyes at herself.

“That’s right, football. What team do you support?”

“Oh, that’s a dangerous question to ask around here, love.”

Gavin groaned.

“Sean, come on—”

“No, it’s important, Gav. Something she needs to know.”

“You’re going to scare her.”

“Scare her with what?” I asked.

Ignoring my brother, I continued.

“People around here, they take their football very seriously,” I explained. “It’s not as bad as it used to be, but there is still a loud contingent of yahoos who get really passionate about their team. As well as others, who aren’t quite so passionate, but who still take it really personally, so ‘what team do you support’ is a loaded question that is usually only asked by a certain sort of person.”

“Hooligans, you mean?”

I laughed hard, almost having to wipe tears from my eyes.

“Who told you about hooligans?”

“I did, of course,” Gavin piped up from the back, “I’m not completely irresponsible, you know.”

“Aye, fair enough. Since you’re clearly a yank, you’re likely to get more leeway, but it’s something to be aware of. If you wear the wrong sports jersey on the wrong street, you could get into a bit of trouble.”

“You guys sure take your soc— um, I mean— football very seriously.”

“Some do. I’m a rugby man myself.”

Gavin groaned again.

“If we hadn’t grown up together, I’d swear he was adopted.”

“If you do get asked,” I said, ignoring my brother, “the safest answer is Manchester United. That’ll throw them for a loop.”

“That’s mean, bro,” Gavin said.

I looked at him through the rearview mirror. He was shaking his head but smiling.

“Why?” Maggie asked, sounding perplexed.

“It’s an odd but true fact that some of the most popular football teams in Ireland are English. It’s just one of those weird things, like how Americans are nuts for golf, despite it being Scottish.”

“Golf is Scottish?” Maggie asked, aghast.

“And basketball is Canadian,” I told her. “Well, the inventor was working in Canada at the time, at least.”

“No kidding,” Maggie said. “There’s so much I don’t know.”

“Cross my heart and—”

“I wouldn’t finish that saying if I were you,” Gavin warned.

I couldn’t really blame him. He was a suspicious sort, but who wouldn’t be, after luck had brought him the wife of his dreams? I could only hope the same thing happened with me and was more determined than ever to make Darcy mine.

After we’d dropped off their luggage and they’d checked in, I decided we should drive to Dunluce Castle, a Medieval castle on the coastal cliffs of the Antrim Coast. I figured we might as well since, for once, it wasn’t raining. And a day off doing touristy stuff sounded like something I needed.

Duncan and Jim could handle things at the shop. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to take a break and get to know my new sister-in-law. Plus, I could casually ask questions about Darcy.

Chapter Six - Sean

The light was fading to blue when we pulled up in front of the house that we’d grown up in. Maggie and Gavin were cuddling like lovebirds as we went to the door.

I took the lead, so that everyone would have some warning as to our arrival. The smell hit me like a brick, and my stomach rumbled. Aunt Tricia’s cooking was some of the best in the county.

“What smells so good?” Maggie asked.

“Stew and roast, I’d wager,” Gavin said.

As we passed the living room on the way to the kitchen, I saw our youngest brother Eoin on the couch. It wasn’t obvious, not to most, but I knew him too well. I knew that he had been crying.

“You two go on in. I’ll be there in a second,” I said.

Leaving Maggie and