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

“Yes, I’m looking for a Darcy Matthews,” I said, pretending to read the name off the card I’d attached on the way up.

“Top floor,” she said with obvious distaste. “You’ll have to leave the flowers at the desk. We don’t allow delivery people on the main floor.”

“Thank you very much.”

Back on the elevator, I went up to the floor where the senior partners kept their offices. I could almost smell the money in the air. I repeated the same performance for the main desk receptionist there, but she was a lot more astute than her colleagues.

“Bullsnot,” she said.

“Sorry?” I asked, slipping back into my Irish accent.

“Your shirt is wrong. Close but not quite. I’ve also never seen a delivery guy in cargo pants. Good try, though. Strictly speaking, I should call security and have you removed, and possibly the police for charges of fraud, but you are clearly a man in love. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have tried such a stunt. You caught me in a good mood, though. So, I’ll tell you where to find her.”

Armed with directions from the receptionist, who I was very relieved to find as something of a romantic, I looked for the office number, figuring that was where Darcy was most likely to be. I continued with the ruse of a delivery guy for the benefit of the employees with sub-Sherlock Holmes levels of deductive reasoning.

The sound was unmistakable. Fabric rubbing together, buttons ripping, heavy breathing, all surprisingly audible through the thick wooden door. Awful scenarios danced through my head. All of them involving Darcy fucking her boss. My common sense telling me to walk away and leave it. However, there was another voice—that of my conscience, which told my common sense to shut the fuck up and get into that office before it was too late. I burst in, prepared for the worst.

It was even worse than that. Darcy stood, battered and disheveled, her pants open and her blouse torn asunder, trying to put and keep the large oak desk between her and her boss, who was stalking her like a predator, looking for any angle of attack.

Putting down the roses so they wouldn’t get ruined, I stalked toward him, my rage acting as a higher form of focus.

“Who the fuck are you?” His words were distant and muffled, as though said from down a hallway. I took no real notice, not even when he went to his desk, which put me in mind of the one in Garrison Matthews’ home office. A fresh wave of hate washed over me as he pushed a button on the phone. I should count myself lucky really, he could have kept a gun in there.

On the other hand, he was a white-collar wuss, not a trained militant.

Turned out Chau was even more of a wuss than I thought, calling in the cops to take me on rather than fight me himself. Too pampered and arrogant to face the consequences of what he’d done and what he’d been trying to do. It made me so mad I picked up the phone receiver and hit him with it. Knocking him toward the wall and away from Darcy.

I put myself between Chau and Darcy as the prick recovered himself, a new sort of rage rising in him. The punch was good but far too predictable, leaving a little whoosh of air in its wake as it flew past, inches from my face. My return was dead on target, knocking Chau back against the same wall, which he then slid down into an awkward sitting position. His eyes crossed, and the bloody imprint of my Claddagh ring outlined in the middle of his forehead, making it a hit he would never forget.

My rage lessened, and I turned at the sound of Darcy sobbing. I went to her and took her in my arms.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” I murmured. “Only recently did I realize how much. Your dad offered me a check. One million dollars. He said to take it and never see you again. I ripped it up. I nearly punched him too. You are worth more than anything, and I will never leave you again.”

She fell against me, and I held her as she cried, her tears muffled by my chest. I just kept saying I loved her over and over again.

“Did he hurt you? If he did, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”

She shook her head. “If you hadn’t arrived when you did…”

Sirens sounded from outside, and security thundered down the hallway. “Here they come.”

“You need to run,” she said. “I don’t want you getting arrested.”

“No,” I said, doing up her pants. “It won’t do any good. They’ll find me, and things will be worse. I can handle it, not least because it is right, at least according to the system.”

“But—”

“I did something,” I insisted, showing her my ring as evidence, “gotta pay the piper.”

“I’ll tell them what happened. What Chau tried to do.”

Honestly, I was just so happy I could be there for her. I really didn’t give a damn about the consequences. It wasn’t my first fight, even if it was the shortest or the first time I’d be going to jail as a result. All that mattered to me at that moment was that Darcy was safe, and those who would harm her were in a world of hurt. Retrieving the bouquet of roses, I presented them to her regally, relieved when she accepted.

“Will you wait for me?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“Then maybe we can discuss us getting married for real.”

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss me, which I took as a yes, and I sank slowly to my knees before her, placing my hands behind my head, waiting for the boys