Lucky In Love (Whelan Brothers Book 2) Read online

  LUCKY IN LOVE

  M.K. MOORE

  FLIRTY FILTH PUBLISHING

  Lucky In Love

  By M.K. Moore

  © M.K. Moore 2019.

  All Rights Reserved

  By the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book Adult Romance due to language and sexual situations.

  ASIN: 9781090723710 (paperback)

  Cover by KL Fast

  Created with Vellum

  CONTENTS

  Blurb

  Playlist

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Other books by MK Moore

  About the Author

  Dedicated to those of us who have just enough Irish in us to claim it.

  I’ve always believed that there is something magical about Ireland. I’ve not yet been there, but when I do go, I hope I find the magic.

  BLURB

  Cormac Whelan does the same thing every day.

  The Lass and Lion Pub is his whole life. Until he meets her.

  Finola Adams has no idea what she wants to do with her life. Newly eighteen, a trip to Ireland is just what she needs. Then she meets him.

  Love at first sight, with a bit of Irish magic, is all it takes for these two to be Lucky In Love.

  This is a safe, steamy and over the top St. Patrick's Day novella.

  PLAYLIST

  Playlist that inspired Lucky In Love

  Cardi B (ft. Bruno Mars)-Please Me

  Miley Cyrus-Adore You

  Dropkick Murphys - Kiss Me I'm #!@*faced

  U2-Pride (In The Name of Love)

  The Corrs-One Night

  The Corrs-Breathless

  Clannad-I Will Find You (theme from "The Last of the Mohicans”)

  Bryan Adams-(Everything I Do) I Do It For You

  Celtic Women-You'll Be In My Heart

  Celtic Women-Níl Sé'n Lá

  CHAPTER 1

  Finola Adams

  Monday, March 11, 2019

  Ireland is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been to. Living in Boston, I am surrounded by Irish guys left and right, but I always felt like they weren’t the right guys for me. Yesterday, on my eighteenth birthday, I, somewhat foolishly, decided that I needed a change of pace, which is how I find myself in Killaloe, County Clare, Ireland. My father was born in Dublin; therefore, I have dual citizenship. Though this is the first time I’ve ever been here.

  I have been walking around the downtown area, window shopping for hours now. I am having the time of my life. I am quite certain that if I was in Boston, I’d be bitching and moaning about having to walk around, but everything is so vibrant here. I can’t help it, I want to see every damn thing Ireland has to offer me. Until it starts raining-- again. I’ve noticed that it’s always raining here, but it only adds to the overall loveliness in this village, Killaloe. It’s been raining on and off all morning, but now it’s a torrential downpour, so I duck into the next doorway I see. Inside it’s dark and dingy, but it kinda feels like home. Weird.

  “Lass, close the damn door. Ye lettin’ the heat out,” a deep masculine voice says. I scramble to do his bidding. His thick Irish brogue makes my pussy wet and my knees weak. There is nothing sexier than an Irish accent. And his? It takes the fucking cake.

  Taking a much-needed breath, I turn around. I am not prepared for the man behind the bar. I walk over toward him, but it feels more like I am levitating. His crisp white shirt and suspenders are the first thing I see. Immediately followed by the amazing tattoos that are on both of his forearms. I can see them from where his sleeves are rolled up.

  He is tall, so tall that I have to look up to see his face. His dark hair and beard have me clenching my thick thighs. His dark green eyes bore into my soul as I continue to stare at him. “Have a seat, mo grá,” he says. I immediately do so.

  Why do I want to do everything this man says? That is so unlike me.

  Normally, I’d tell him to shove it, but for some reason, I can’t make myself say the words. Or any words for that matter. I just stare at him. Who knew suspenders were hot as hell? Granted, I have only seen them on my gramps before now, but I’m sure it’s just him. Whoever he is.

  I sit at the bar and stare at him. Why do I have no words? I can drink here so, I order the first thing that comes to mind.

  “Jameson on the rocks, please,” I say finding my voice.

  “Right you are, lass,” he says as he grabs a highball whiskey tumbler, dropping three ice cubes in it. The way he pours my whiskey is seductive. I want to drop my jeans and hop up on this ancient bar top and let him do whatever he wants to me. He slides the glass in front of me and walks further down the bar to wait on an old man. I almost whimper because his attention is no longer on me, but I can finally take my first full breath since I sat down. I can’t stop staring at him. I am drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Even when his eyes find mine, I can’t bring myself to look away from him.

  “Jimmy Muldoon, this is your last drink until after dinner. Go home to your wife, you old fool,” he says pointing at the older man, his voice full of laughter.

  “Aye Cormac, I’ll be back. Don’t let anyone ruin my ass groove,” Jimmy says. I smile at their friendship. Sure, Jimmy is a paying customer, but it seems like more than that. Like he really cares about his patrons. “Cormac, I mean it. I will be back.”

  Cormac. His name is Cormac. I mull his name over in my mind like a mantra.

  “I hear ye, Jimmy. See you later.”

  He clears the bar in front of Jimmy’s seat and comes back to me. Thank God.

  “I would be Cormac Whelan. Who would ye be, lass?”

  “Finola Adams,” I respond, breathlessly. I don’t recognize my own voice.

  “American?” he asks.

  “Yep. Boston proud,” I say.

  “Didn’t they have a tea party or something?”

  “Oh, yes they did,” I say laughing.

  “You have a great laugh, lass,” he says.

  “Thanks,” I respond tucking a loose tendril of hair behind my ear.

  “How long are ye in Ireland for?”

  “Indefinitely.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I was looking for a change. I am thinking of settling in the area. What can you tell me about it?”

  “Running from a man back home?” he asks gruffly.

  “No. Nothing like that.” His megawatt smile almost causes me to fall off my barstool.
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  “Good.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing that you are ready for, lass.” I shiver and involuntarily clench my thighs.

  “Hmm…” I down my drink. “Can I get another?”

  “Right you are,” he says filling my glass expertly.

  “So, do you know of anyone hiring in the area?”

  “I’m hiring,” he says quickly.

  “What’s the position?” I ask.

  “Any position you want,” he says. The way he says it makes me think of sex, but that can’t be right. I also have no idea what to say. “I need a bartender. Are you interested?”

  “I’ve never been a bartender before,” I say honestly. “I did some waitressing back home though.” All through high school, I worked weekends at a local diner. It was always super busy, and I made bank in tips.

  “I’ll teach you everything you need to know, mo grá.” I bet he will. Also, that is the second time he’s called me mo grá. I know what that means. My dad calls my mom that all the fucking time. My Love. Gah, why does he have to be so hot?

  “That sounds good. When should I start?” I can’t believe my luck. This job just landed in my lap.

  “How about now?”

  “Let me finish my drink?” I ask.

  “Spoken like a true Irish woman.” I laugh again. God, he is funny without even trying.

  I finish my drink and begin a new chapter in my life.

  CHAPTER 2

  Cormac Whelan

  Bleedin’ hell. She is absolutely gorgeous and I’m in trouble. Her curves call to me. Her laugh, her eyes, her long blonde hair does so too. She is too young for me. I can tell that from a mile away, but that won’t stop me. I wasn’t actually hiring, but the thought of her working somewhere else, with other men, doesn’t sit well with me.

  Just looking at her, I know what my father had been saying all those years was absolutely true. It makes me glad that I saved myself for the one. My Da always told me and my brothers, Gareth and Sully, that he knew the second he met our Ma, that she was it for him. She died from breast cancer when Gareth and I were young, and Sully was just a baby. Her doctor found the lump after her milk didn't come. Thank God it was quick, for her sake, but the love my parents shared was more than enough for my father. In all the years, since she died, twenty-five to be exact, he never even looked at another woman. My father died a happy man just last year, knowing he was on his way to spend eternity with his beloved. He left the three of us The Lass and Lion, but I run it myself. Cormac is doing his own thing and I have no idea what Sully does. Gareth is currently in Chicago on business.

  “Where do you want me?” she asks. Under me. On top of this here three-hundred-year-old bar top. Feck, my cock is hard, and I am getting ahead of myself. It will happen, just not right now.

  “Behind the bar. We don’t do food, so it would just be drink deliveries,” I say after clearing my throat.

  “Why don’t you do food?” she asks, grabbing an apron off of the hook behind the bar.

  “Fin, these guys are professional drinkers. Food would only get in their way,” I say chuckling.

  “Oh, I understand that. I know several guys like that back home,” she says. I am irrationally jealous at her talk of other men. Later, when we are alone, I will explain the rules to her. They are simple. She is mine and I’m hers. She will forget any other men she has been with. As I’ve never been with a woman, she won’t have anything to worry about from me.

  She works diligently all night, never once complaining. My patrons love her and she seems to be having a good time. When we close for the night, she sits at the bar counting her tips, into two piles.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, wiping down the bar.

  “Separating our tips. You don’t have a tip jar, and it’s only fair.” I shake my head and put my hand over hers to still her counting.

  “That’s your money, mo grá,” I say mixing her piles back up. She huffs but nods her head. I hear the tinkling bell over the door as it opens. She looks around alarmed.

  “Sully, deartháir. Get out,” I deadpan. He’s got a way with the ladies that I don’t understand. They all flock to him like a moth to the flame and I don’t want him anywhere near my girl.

  “This is your brother then? Don’t be mean to him.” I tuck away the information that she speaks a little Gaelic.

  “And who might you be, lass?”

  “I'm Finola. I work here.”

  “American?”

  “Yes,” she says at the same time as I say, “for now.”

  Sully looks back and forth between us, then he smirks. “Got it, ard agus soiléir,” he says.

  “What’s loud and clear?” Okay, so she knows more than a little Gaelic.

  “Uh, never mind, lass. I’ll leave you two alone,” he says heading up the stairs to the apartments over the pub. We each have our own place up there and it saves on rent.

  “What’s upstairs?” she asks.

  “Apartments,” I respond quickly.

  “Ah, well. I should be getting back to my hotel. What time should I come in tomorrow? Also, is there a local newspaper around here that I can check rentals out in?”

  “We open at noon, but we have an extra room upstairs if you are interested.” I just want her under the same roof as me and I don’t care how I get her there.

  “Really? You are being so kind,” she says jumping up from her barstool. She comes around the bar and hugs me tightly.

  “So that’s a yes?”

  “Yes, that’s a big yes.” She pulls back from me slightly so that I can see her face. “You’re not, like, a serial killer or something are you?”

  “Would I tell you if I was?” I say

  “Um, point taken,” she says stepping back from me. I grab her hips and pull her back to me.

  “I’m not a serial killer, mo grá. I promise.”

  “You really shouldn’t call me “my love” it’s giving me all kind of ideas,” she says, her cheeks turning pink.

  “What kind of ideas?”

  “I really can’t say,” she says.

  “Why not?” I ask, frowning.

  “It’s not polite, and just a little bit naughty.”

  “Only a little bit naughty? I must not be doing something right,” I reply laughing.

  “Oh my God, just ignore me, please,” she says.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, mo grá.” She looks up at me, her eyes wide. When they land on my lips and she licks hers, I lean down and devour her mouth. Her arms go around my neck and her moan goes all through me. My cock hardens and I know that she’s the one for me. After what seems like forever, she pulls away from me. Her fingers touch her lips. I know she felt that spark between us. How could she not? Every hair on my arms and neck are standing straight up. Like static electricity on a grander more euphoric scale.

  “Thanks for letting me stay here, Cormac. I’m just going to go and get my things from the hotel,” she says.

  “I’ll walk with you,” I say coming around the bar.

  “No!” she shouts. “I mean there’s no need for that. It’s just up the road. I’ll be back before you know it,” she says grabbing her purse then heads out the door. The little tinkling bell mocking me as she does.

  What the hell was all that about?

  CHAPTER 3

  Finola

  Once I am outside, I take several deep breaths. I just need a minute away from him to catch my breath. What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I run away from him? I could feel what is sure to be his huge cock digging into my thigh. I wanted him, so much. I shouldn’t have left. I should have stayed and kissed him more. I don’t understand these feelings coursing through me. I should march right back in there and let him have me. It’s insane. It’s more than sex, more than lust, but how can that be? I met him all of six hours ago and most of that time we were working.

  I all but run to my hotel, grab the few things I brought with me, my laptop, charge
rs, and clothes throwing them into my suitcase. I check out, leaving the key at the front desk. I feel like this is the most monumental step in my adult life, thus far.

  I make my way back to the pub pretty quickly where the lights are still on. Opening the door, the bell tinkles above me. He’s sweeping the floor and all the chairs are stacked on the tables.

  “You came back?” he asks, a look of wondering, maybe longing on his face. He's being kind of adorable right now. He leans the broom against a table and walks over to me.

  “Of course, I did. I said I would be right back, silly,” I say laughing.

  “I just thought with the way you ran out of here that you weren’t coming back.”

  “I’m back,” I say. Just when I think that he is going to kiss me again, he reaches behind me and I hear the lock click.

  “Come, let me show you upstairs,” he says turning the light out in the room. Our path is lit by the light shining down the stairs. He takes my suitcase in one hand and my hand in the other. He leads me up the stairs. “This one is free,” he says, pushing the door open. It’s a large room with a small kitchen, a huge bed, and what must be a bathroom behind the door. “Will this do?”

  “It’s perfect,” I say. I’ve never lived on my own nor have I ever had my own room before. My older by a year sister, Fenella, and I shared a room our whole lives.

  “I’m right next door if you need anything. The bed was changed yesterday, so you should be all set,” he says setting my suitcase down.

  “Right next door?” I ask.

  “Yes. the only other door on this side of the hallway. My brother’s rooms are the other side. Don’t go in there, unless you want me to kill them.” I laugh. “Not a joke,” he says seriously.

  “Okay. This side of the hallway. Got it.”

  “Goodnight, Finola.”

  “Good night, Cormac.” He kisses me way too briefly for my liking. The door softly clicks closed. When I am alone, I immediately head for the bathroom. I take a quick but hot and relaxing shower.