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

“To what do I owe the—”

The kiss was passionate as it was intense, my shoes falling to the floor as I embraced him, tears of pure joy rolling down my cheeks.

“Wow, and hello to you, too,” he said, a little dazzled.

“It’s over. I mean, it’s done. I did it. Emil is going down. I’ve made sure of it. Nothing is keeping me here anymore. If you were serious about wanting to marry me and me moving to Ireland, the answer is yes. A sweet, sweet, fucking yes! There’s nothing I want more.”

He dropped to his knee as though it buckled and slipped the Claddagh ring from his finger.

“Darcy Matthews, will you complete my existence by consenting to be my wife and spending the rest of your life with me?”

“Yes,” I said, a bit more formally. “A hundred-million times yes.”

He slipped the ring onto my finger. It was too big, but it wasn’t about the ring. It was about the symbolism.

“How are we going to get married so fast?” he asked.

“Oh, Matilda has that covered. Apparently, she was deadly serious and was taking notes on everything we wanted. We could get married tomorrow, and since we only have two days left, we need to get moving.”

He grinned. “Nine, actually. I extended my vacation by a week. I figured we’d get married here with your family, and then we could honeymoon in Ireland with mine, after a few days to ourselves, of course.”

“How long have you been planning this?”

“It was on my mind for a while to extend my time here. I can’t be without you ever again.”

“Same here,” I agreed, “those three months were torture, never mind two days.”

“Good thing that never has to happen again.”

“Agreed,” I said, sighing with relief.

I still had to wonder what kind of wedding my mom had planned for us, but it really didn’t matter as long as it brought us together.

Chapter Twenty-Four - Sean

Context could change everything. It wasn’t the first time I’d woken up next to Darcy, but it felt like it. Not that all the other times didn’t count or weren’t amazing. They were, in their own way. There was just a sense of insecurity underlying all of them. Like it could all disappear at a moment’s notice, like Cinderella’s pumpkin when it returned to rags, pumpkins, and mice.

Not anymore. She was mine, and I was hers, and only by death would we part. Not officially, not yet, but near enough that it seemed real already.

I took her in my arms, squeezing her tight. She started to stir as I held her, feeling her warmth against me, knowing it would never leave.

“Honey? What’s up?” she asked, turning to face me.

“Nothing, I just love you is all.”

“Love you more,” she teased, giving me a kiss.

I released her, and we returned to our designated sides of the bed. It was nice to have a side of the bed as well as my own key. It gave a sense of permanence, even if it was just until we left. Darcy had handed in her resignation at work and given notice on the apartment. By the time the wedding came along, she would be free to start our new life together in Ireland.

“What time is it?” Darcy asked, stretching, the covers falling from her beautiful boobs.

“Nearly ten.”

“Oh good, we’re not late yet.”

“Do we have time for—”

“Just a quickie, and it has to be in the shower. We really don’t want to be late. There will be hell to pay.”

“Deal.”

The usual shower ritual fell by the wayside, as we spent most of the soggy fifteen-minute span locked in an intimate position, my cock gently pumping Darcy’s sweet pussy from behind as she braced against the wall. The best position we’d found for a quick shower fuck.

Both of us satisfied and clean enough to be passable, we dried off and had a bit of a race to get dressed, Darcy winning by a few seconds. She had more clothes to put on but had planned them out well.

****

The restaurant was the L.A. version of fancy. My wallet almost hurt just looking at the exterior.

“Mom will be paying,” Darcy said, as though reading my mind, “she’ll insist.”

“Well, if she insists.”

The inside was even fancier. The sort of place that would have once had a No Dogs or Irish sign by the door, goodness how times had changed. Soft violin music piped in through the speaker and joined with the indoor fountain in the anthem of affluence on display. I knew I should have been impressed but was mostly on edge. The term ‘culture shock’ taking on a whole new meaning. I’d been to fancy places before, like the restaurant used for the wedding reception, but I was never really comfortable with them. It was so different from the world I knew. It was almost like stepping through a portal to a different dimension.

“Dad?”

“Hello, dumpling.”

“Was he planning to be here?” I asked.

“Nope,” Darcy whispered back.

They hugged, and Garrison kissed Darcy on the cheek. I was less sure and hung back a bit until beckoned forth by Matilda. It was the first time I’d seen either of them since ripping up the check, and I really wasn’t sure what kind of mood Garrison would be in. Or if his well-taught manners would keep him from doing anything drastic if he was displeased. On the positive side, he was at least in his early 50s, and I was fairly confident that I could easily outpace him if it came down to it. I made sure to be on a side with a clear line to the door. One that put me right next to Garrison. At least I had