IRISH: a Bad Boy Fighter Romance (4 page)

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 headed 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.

My assistant had laid it all out with bright yellow stickers indicating where I would sign. I had found a fully furnished and staffed mansion the day after my escapade with the girl from the hotel. Initially I’d decided to rent it, but given the new contract I decided I would buy it.

I’d never meant to settle down here, but being close to the girl I was gonna marry made sense to me. So the house I was renting would now be mine, I just had to work on the girl.

Of course this meant that I officially owned a house in Los Angeles, one in Vegas and this latest acquisition in Boston.

Three mansions and I wasn’t even a bloody American citizen yet.

“I found the girl’s address,” Petra told me a while later, ducking her head into my office. “You want me to send her some flowers or something? Your usual?”

I furrowed my brow and thought back to everything I knew about her. Which essentially was nothing. Except that her scent was intoxicating and her lips were soft and tasted of strawberries and I would give up all three of my mansions just to have those lips wrapped around my cock.

“How about I head down to the flower shop and pick something out,” I said, snatching the paper from Petra’s hand as I passed.

Her brows raised and she said, “Wow, I don’t think you’ve ever done that for a girl before.”

“She’s not just a girl,” I said, turning back with a grin. “She’s gonna be my wife.”

Petra looked like she’d choked on something as she tried to refrain from laughter. She of all people knew how many girls I’d bagged over the last few years, and she of all people knew I wasn’t the marrying kind.