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Mountain Man's Lucky Charm: A Single Dad Romance (Mountain Men of Liberty) Page 19
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Twins that have HIS green eyes and dimpled chin.
Maybe NOW is a good time to tell him?!? FML!!!!
Prologue
“What are you doing?” she asked, taking her lips from mine for long enough to ask the question.
I answered it by lifting her out of her seat. She was surprised at first, but when she realized what I was doing, she let out a laugh, a broad smile spreading across her face.
Once I was standing straight again, she wrapped her legs around me, the kiss continuing as I carried her across the living room, over the threshold of the bedroom.
She peeled her boots off, and I stepped out of my dress shoes.
Then Kenna wiggled out of my grasp for long enough to put her feet on the ground.
“This is a bad f cking idea.”
“Wrong – it’s a good idea that involves f cking.”
Her expression hardened for a moment, as if she wanted to scold me for my lame joke. A tinge of red returned to her cheeks.
I loved how Kenna was so bold, so fearless, but still had a gorgeous softness, a vulnerability that I was able to bring out.
“You might be right about that.”
It was all I needed to hear. I stepped toward her, closing the distance between us. Out of the corner of my eye, the snowfall came down harder, nearly a total whiteout.
The perfect weather to get warm and toasty between the sheets.
I placed my hands on her hips, their roundness nearly causing my c ck to tear through my slacks. I needed her like I needed air.
But as I brought my lips to hers once more, she raised her finger and pressed it against my lips.
Her mouth curled into a sly, inviting smile.
I squeezed her hips through her jeans. My eyes locked onto hers, I let one hand slowly travel over her middle, down to her button. With a quick, deft motion, I opened the button and took down the zipper, exposing a triangle of lacy blue panties underneath.
Kenna closed her eyes, sighing as I hooked my thumbs under the opening of her jeans, pulling her pants down. Her panties were so sexy they gave me pause, made me wonder if she’d known in the back of her mind that this would happen tonight.
Once her jeans were down to her ankles, she kicked them off the rest of the way, and I placed my hands on her bare thighs. One palm moved to the small of her back, the other inched closer and closer to her mound.
Soon I could feel the heat between her thighs, and I put my lips on hers right at the moment I touched her through her panties.
She moaned through the kiss, grinding herself into my hand.
I focused on the sight before me, Kenna’s gorgeous hips squirming, total pleasure all over her stunning face.
And I felt her grow wetter and wetter by the second.
“You gonna come for me?” I asked, speaking low into her ear, following it with a pair of quick kisses along the nape of her neck.
“Keep touching me like that and…”
I cut her off by pulling her panties to the side, a pair of my fingers gliding into her soaking wet folds. She bucked into my touch, the wriggling of her hips faster and faster.
She felt so damn good, and as she clenched me hard with her velvet walls.
Kenna’s moaning became more intense, more insistent.
She clasped my hand with hers, silently demanding that I don’t move an inch.
“Come for me now, gorgeous,” I said. “Right now.”
Her eyes still closed, she nodded, followed by a long, pleasured moan. Her folds grew wetter as she came to my touch, and I guided her through it, letting her savor every moment.
I prolonged her pleasure for as long as I could and savored every second.
When she opened her eyes, an eager smile spread on her face.
She placed her hands on my chest, and before I knew what was happening, she pushed me back.
“What’re you doing?” I asked.
“Taking what I want.”
She was perfect in every sense of the word.
And I was the luckiest bastard to have her.
Determination filled my body to give her the best night of her life.
Chapter 1
KENNA
Phew!
The exact second the final guest left the convention hall, I had one thing on my mind: Wine.
“Are they gone?” Macey, one of the black-and-white referee suit-clad members of the serving staff regarded me with wide, expectant eyes, as if I were about to deliver the news of a lifetime.
The rest of the serving staff gathered around, all waiting for the answer.
Every one of them was dressed like sporty referees – the bar mitzvah we’d worked that night had been sports-themed. The scene around them was post-chaos. Hard to believe only ten minutes ago a hundred people had been in the events room.
I slipped my phone out of the back pocket of my dress slacks and checked the time – a little after nine.
“They had us until nine, and we’re past it. Done!”
Cheers went up from the staff, and they didn’t waste a moment making their way over to the bar. Macey connected her phone to one of the Bluetooth speakers, and something I recognized as Drake blasted.
The bartender on staff began passing out drinks.
“Alright, kids,” I announced, despite the average age of the serving staff barely younger than me. “Don’t forget we need to put this place back together by ten.”
“Sure, sure,” Macey called over her shoulder as the bartender lined up shots. “We got it, boss.”
Man, as much as my job drove me nuts sometimes, I truly loved it.
“I’m going to check in with Gia,” I said. “And I’ll be back to make sure we’re good to go.”
Macey didn’t even answer with words this time, only a thumbs-up as she and the rest of the team threw back what would almost certainly be the first of many shots.
I watched them for a moment, part of me wishing I was twenty-three again and partying like I didn’t have a care in the world.
But I did have a care in the world – many of them, in fact, the first of which involved letting Gia Stone-Davenport, my boss and friend, know that the party was a smash.
And the second was that glass of wine with my name on it.
After grabbing my purse from the staff storage area, I stepped out of the events room and into the grand, ornate lobby of the hotel. The hotel was elegant – all-out luxury. The oriental carpet was a deep red, dual sets of grand staircases went up to the second floor, and gray stone columns jutted up into the vaulted ceilings.
But at that moment, there was one key feature of the lobby that stood out to me– the bar.
I weaved through the crowd, noting a few dozen of the guests from the bar mitzvah were still there mingling.
Part of me wanted to stay, to ask how their evening had gone in the hopes of drumming up more business, but a louder voice inside told me to relax.
Thankfully, Gia and I were more than good on business keeping us extremely busy. Between the two of us, we had enough events on the horizon to keep our company occupied and growing. I planted my butt in one of the open seats, stuck out two fingers to the bartender, and quickly had a glass of wine in front of me.
Before I had a chance to take a sip, my phone shook in my pocket.
“Hey!” I said, my voice low as I carried my glass of wine to the far end of the bar.
“Let’s hear some good news,” Gia said, her voice businesslike as always. “All go well?”
“All went perfectly.” I leaned back in my seat, holding my glass of wine near my chest. “I swear, I’m pretty sure I could handle these bar mitzvahs with my eyes closed and hands tied behind my back by this point.”
“Put that down right now!” Gia spoke in a stern, commanding tone. “I said, right now!”
My eyebrows arched. “You serious? Just doing my usual post-event celebratory glass of wine.”
“Thank you Gilly!” She sighed, and I realized the words had been direc
ted toward Gia’s daughter. “Sorry. Gavin and I just got this cookware set, and Gilly seems to think they’re the most interesting things in the world. Every time I turn around, she’s marching through the house with a sauté pan or something.”
“Damn, a two-year-old carrying a sauté pan? No need to worry about bullies.”
“Are you kidding me? This little rascal is the biggest bully in our house. Don’t let her adorable façade fool you. I’m starting to think she’s got her dad’s upper-body strength. Anyway, I’ve got some more events I want us to start planning for the next month. I emailed the information, but don’t worry about it tonight – just make sure the staff’s cleaning up and not starting a post-bar mitzvah bacchanal.”
“Sure, sure – I’ll get the hose if I need to.”
She laughed. “And we can touch base next week about what’s coming up.”
“Def. And, I was thinking we could maybe talk about that new position we’d discussed before?” I hedged, smiling. “If you have time, of course.”
“Gilly! I swear, do not drop that pan! Hold on.” A clatter on the other line sounded out, followed by some in-the-distance scolding from Gia to Gillian, followed by mischievous toddler laughter. Gia picked up and sighed loudly. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
Before I could say a word, my phone let out a beep-beep-beep, letting me know the battery was about dead. What I wanted to talk about was my standing in the company. I’d been working with Gia for years, and I was starting to feel like it was time for me to change my title from assistant to something greater. I wanted more, and I was ready for it. It was time.
“It’s—”
“Gilly!”
The phone beeped, then silence. I checked the screen, seeing nothing in the dark reflection other than my bemused face.
Dead.
I set my phone on the bar, letting out a frustrated sigh before taking a sip of my wine. The bartender, realizing my situation, offered me the phone end of a charger.
“Oh my God,” I said to her. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“We’ve all been there,” she replied.
I plugged in my phone and set it down, the dead battery picture appearing on the screen. Then I sat back in my chair, my eyes scanning the bar as I let my phone charge.
The place had grown busier over the last few minutes, and a dozen or so well-dressed men and women had claimed the empty seats, the energy in the place picking up.
I suddenly felt a little put out – not sure what to do with myself.
My plan had been my usual routine – absent-mindedly scrolling through social media while sipping a glass of wine.
Instead, I decided to do some people-watching. My gaze trailed down the long bar, moving from face to face. The one I eventually landed on was enough to make my heart jump into my throat.
Hot damn.
A gorgeous man was seated at the crook of the L-shaped bar. He was tall with clean-cut auburn hair. He had bright green eyes topped with thick auburn brows, and a sculpted face that was all angles and cheekbones. And even from my distance, I could see a smattering of freckles on his nose. He was handsome as hell, but with a tinge of boyishness to his features that made him more appealing.
He looked so poised and in control.
Whatever it was he did for a living, I’d imagine it took a lot of certitude.
He wore a white, button-up shirt with a brown, tweed coat on over it. Something about his style made him look like he’d be more at home bellied up to the bar of some 19th century English pub rather than an ultra-hip, modern bar.
His full, sexy lips curled up into a knowing smile, one that made him look like he was in on a joke that no one else was.
What the hell’s he smirking at? I realized as soon as the thought vanished from my head. He was smirking at me – because I was staring at him!
I ripped my eyes off his handsome face, clamping them onto the bar directly in front of me. My heart went thud-thud-thud in my chest, and without thinking, I tossed back the last bit of wine in my glass.
“Ah, barkeep?”
A voice cut through the din of conversation and music that swirled around me. It was him. There was something odd about the way he spoke, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“Would you be a dear and top me off here? And one for the thunderstruck woman at the far end.”
The man, whoever he was, spoke in a sexy, lilting Irish brogue that caught my attention immediately. And more than that, the way he spoke made his words carry clearly to me.
“You got it, Doc.”
Doc? Interesting.
I was right about the certitude.
I flicked my eyes over to him once more just long enough to see him smile at me, a warm and charming and inviting smile tossed off as if it were the most casual thing in the world. I cleared my throat as the bartender filled my glass before heading over to him and doing the same with his whiskey.
Shit. I had to do something. I wasn’t the type to get all butterfly-y on account of a handsome face, but there was something different about him – more than the obvious part about him being from another country.
He must be laughing inside.
I lifted my glass and glanced over to him, watching as the man raised his drink in a faux toast.
Still feeling awkward, I raised my glass right back before taking a sip.
Alright, fine – that was something I could handle. I pressed the home button on my phone again, as if it might’ve magically fully charged so I could have something to do to occupy me.
My belly tingled, the wine finally doing its work. I glanced up again and noticed he was gone. The seat where he, whoever he was, had been sitting was empty.
“Now, I don’t want to risk sounding trite, but it’s a damn shame seeing a gorgeous woman sitting by herself.”
That sexy brogue flowed to my ear, the words coming out on such a melody that I could almost see music notes.
Instantly I felt goose bumps and a warm tingling in my belly.
I spun around and found myself blown away.
However hot he was from a distance, from up close it was somehow more pronounced, and the warmth radiating from his body made me want to cozy up next to him.
More butterflies.
From my view I could see this Adonis of a man had to be at least six and a half feet tall.
Adonis? What other lame words can I come up with?
Dreamboat.
Knock-out.
Oh yes…beef cake. That’s a good one.
“You alright there?” He crinkled his brow a bit, as if genuinely wondering whether or not something was the matter.
Well, he wasn’t wrong. Between his looks and his accent my panties were about soaked.
I cleared my throat and spoke. “Totally fine. Thanks for the drink.”
“Think nothing of it,” he said, tossing off the words with total charm. “Now, I understand just fine the need for a bit o’ time to oneself, and there isn’t a thing wrong with having a drink while mulling over your own thoughts. But a woman as fine looking as you, well, I’d be kicking myself if I didn’t come over and see if you’d like a wee bit of company.”
His accent and his charm and his easy manner of speaking was almost unfair.
I didn’t stand a chance.
“Um, sure.”
He slid into the open seat next to me, a glass of amber-colored whiskey in his hand. He raised his, and I did the same. Before we tapped rims glasses, a word came out of his mouth that I’d never heard before.
“Slainte!”
Ting.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “What?”
“Irish toast. ‘To your health,’ essentially.”
I sipped my wine and nodded.
“Finn,” he said, raising his hand. “A pleasure.”
“Kenna.”
We shook, and the instant his skin touched mine, I felt a sensation I’d never experienced before.
He nodded toward me. “Enjoying
your night?”
“I am, thank you. May I ask where you’re from?”
“I’m from Dublin.”
“Ah yes that makes sense. Your accent…it’s very charming,” I told him.
His mouth curled into a smile again, as if what I’d said had been music to his ears. “You think I’m charming? Careful now – you might give me a big head.”
My pussy tingled again, and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was winning me over with every word, every smile.
“I said your accent was charming. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I teased.
He threw his head back and laughed. “Fair enough,” he said. “But I don’t mind telling you, you’re a beauty.”
I blushed hard and tried to cover it with my hand.
“Well Finn from Dublin, what brings you here?”
“Well the whole story is rather long and boring, but right at this moment I s’pose I found someone that has truly peaked my interest. If you’re open to the idea, I’d like to get to know you better,” he replied.
His breathtaking green eyes were locked on mine.
“Then, why don’t you sit down. Let’s you and I get to know each other.” The thought giving me goosebumps.
We finished our first drinks, and Finn signaled for another as we fell into easy conversation that was surprisingly fun.
Dealing with men at bars had always been one of the worst parts of being a single woman, but with him it was different – effortless, like we’d known each other for years instead of minutes.
I found out he was a doctor that had been in the states for a job, and that it was his last night in town before returning to Dublin.
And we flirted.
Boy, did we flirt.
There was touching and laughing and leaning in close enough to smell his musky scent, and he even took a silly selfie of the two of us holding our glasses up. Before I knew it, his hand was on my inner thigh. The moment he touched me, I knew this evening was about to get a whole lot sexier.
“Now, love,” he said, checking his fancy silver watch. “I’m thinking it’s about my bedtime. Unless you can give me a reason to, ah, stay up.”