Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2) (26 page)

“Speak English, you fucker,” Cody joked.

“Sod off,” I replied.

Felicity scooped some eggs onto a plate, added a few slices of bacon, and handed it to Cody.

“Sweet, thanks!” Cody exclaimed.

“What’s sweet?” Drew asked as he followed Cody in, scratching his stomach. Then he stopped short, too. “Damn, what the fuck smells so good?”

“Breakfast?” Fliss said hopefully.

“Like… bacon and eggs? Shit like that?” Fliss nodded, and his eyes went even wider. “Holy shit… I don’t think we’ve ever had breakfast here.”

“Felicity is doing wife shit,” Cody grinned.

“Wife shit? Seriously?”

“Who’s doing wife shit? Cody?” Justin asked as he came in as well, similarly to Drew except scratching a little lower down. “Little bitch…”

“No, you fucker,” Cody huffed, “Felicity is doing wife shit.”

Justin raised an eyebrow at Fliss who was cracking more eggs into the frying pan quietly. “Hmm, really… You know, Felicity, sweetheart,” he smiled deviantly, “I’ve got some other wife shit you could do, too.”

“Feck off, ya cheeky bastard,” I growled. “She’s
my
wife.” The possessiveness in my voice sort of surprised me.

Maybe more than sort of.

Justin just laughed. “Yeah, but isn’t it kind of tradition to have a ‘nage with me before things get too serious?”

“What, you get it on with Brannon and Sophie, and suddenly it’s tradition?” Cody balked.

“You’re not fucking touching Maggie,” Drew quietly muttered.

“Besides,” I cut in, “it’s already serious, ya eejit. She’s my
wife
. Did ya miss that part?”

“Speak English, you fucker,” Justin laughed. “I can barely understand you when you get all pissy like that.”

“Don’t I get some say in this?” Felicity asked quietly, and all four of us stared at her, looking rather agape.

Jaysus, what if she did want to fool around with Justin? What the fuck was I going to do with that?
I think I’d kill any fucker I had to watch her with again, even if he was my friend.

She set the lid down over the eggs, turned down the burner, and stepped over to me, slipping her arm around my waist. I had no bleedin’ clue what she was going to say. Nobody ever seemed to throw me off my game like Fliss.

“The truth is, Justin,” she began, snugly fitting up against my side and leaning into me, “been there, done that. Wasn’t really my thing, so no thanks.”

“Fuck, seriously?” Cody looked shocked. “You’ve… been there?”

“And done that?” Drew gasped. “
That
?”

“I tried something like it in Dublin,” she nodded, “something they called dogging.”

“Dogging,” Justin breathed, intrigued. “What’s that?”

“Having sex,” Fliss answered, “in remote parking lots, garages, parks. Generally with strangers.”

“Fuck me,” Drew mumbled.

“Denny, you dog,” Justin began to laugh. “And here I thought—”

“Bog off,” I scowled at Justin. “It wasn’t with me, ya eejit.”

“We hadn’t quite gotten together yet,” Fliss softly said as she pressed a little closer, running her finger down my arm. Her eyes left the shocked faces of the band to gaze upon mine. “But he watched,” she whispered. “He stayed… took care of me.”

I felt a bead of sweat run down my spine. The temperature suddenly felt scorching hot. Humid. The air felt thick as I remembered Fliss’ beautiful lips. Watching the men touch her and taste her.

And after…
after she pulled away and we went back to her flat. The fight. Fucking her up against the wall.

A long, low whistle sounded, and I looked over to the guys. Cody was flushed, and Drew stood stone still. Justin was grinning widely.

“So,” he began, “are you sure you, um…” His voice trailed off as Fliss shook her head, her blue eyes still fixed on mine.

“Sorry, Justin,” she said, a slight smile tilting her lips, “I’ve got everything I need right here.” Her arms tightened around me as she pressed her lips to my chest in a tender, loving kiss before she turned her attention back to making breakfast.

Fuck, she was good.
I almost believed her myself.

Looking back, beginning the conversation with Fliss’ dad by saying “
She’s not knocked up”
was maybe not the most articulate way to make a good first impression.

But I had kinda panicked a little, really… Okay, so I panicked a lot.

The guy was feckin’ huge. Probably a good six feet four or five inches with shoulders like a bleedin’ WWE wrestler. And his expression was so intense. Stern. It went very well with his sheriff uniform which reminded me that he had lots of guns, access to jail cells, and dogs that could tear a man to pieces.

His dark blue eyes were very similar in color to Fliss’ but glared at me with a cold, murderous glint as I stood there next to his only child. His daughter.

I could see why he scared the feckin’ hell out of Trent back in the day. He scared the feckin’ hell out of me now.

And my little outburst, like I was a primary school girl getting caught passing notes in class, caused him to raise an eyebrow and narrow his gaze just a little bit more.

“What was that,
son
?”

The way he said
‘son’
wasn’t warm and comforting like when my da said it. It was more like
‘I’ll kick your motherfucking arse because I’m bigger and stronger and older than you, so you better just watch your feckin’ step.’

“Sorry, Dad,” Fliss began, a little nervous herself although she seemed to be breathing fine. Something I couldn’t really say about myself. “That’s just something that people seem to assume for some reason.”

“And why is that, Felicity?” he asked cautiously.

Fliss glanced over at me, then back to her dad. Holding up her left hand with the silver wedding ring on it, she wiggled her fingers.

“Taa daa…” she said in a tentative voice, “we’re married.”

His eyes came back to me immediately. Angry. I started eying him for spots I could strike quickly if he came at me. The fella was about three times my size, but I was a scrappy tosser who could fight dirty if need be, if my life depended on it. And the way he was looking at me now, it just might.

The room was dead silent. I’m pretty sure Fliss and I had even stopped breathing. I wasn’t sure exactly what her dad was doing. His face went a little purple for a few minutes. The thought zipped through my brain that he was maybe having a stroke.

“So…” he finally said with a quiet, dangerous calm, “married, huh?”

“Yep,” Fliss slowly replied, sounding a little strangled. “Surprise.”

Her da pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefingers, his lips moving slightly as though he was counting to ten. Fliss reached over and grasped my hand, offering me a half-hearted smile. While we waited for some indication of our life expectancy.

He dropped his hand and took a deep breath before opening his eyes. “So,” he finally rumbled, “why don’t you tell me what happened.”

I felt with every fiber of my being he should be out interrogating terrorists. I wanted to spill the whole truth to him. To fall to my knees and beg forgiveness for fucking his daughter up against a wall. For licking champagne out of her pussy before taking her for a savage ride.

Fortunately, Fliss spoke first.

“I love him,” she simply said.

Hearing that shook me for a second. I had to remind myself that this was part of the ruse, even though it felt kind of amazing to hear those words.
It wasn’t real.

“What was the rush?” He totally wasn’t buying it.

“It was just…” she looked down to where she held my hand, placing her other hand over the top and smiling up at me, “the moment was perfect. We flew to Edinburgh, and just… did it.”

She was blissfully omitting that we actually flew to Edinburgh twice and planned it well over a month before we
‘just did it
.’

“Really…” her father said, more to himself than either of us. “Just like that.”

“Mmm hmm,” Fliss replied.

He trained his gaze back on me, and my throat went dry.

“And what do you do,
son
?”

“He’s a musician,” Fliss answered for me, “and an artist.”

“A musician,” her father repeated.

“Uh huh,” she smiled. “Very good, too.”

Her dad’s eyes narrowed to the point they were almost crossed, and I leaned over to Fliss.

“I don’t think that’s helping, Fliss,” I croaked.

“Fliss?” her da asked.

“That’s what he calls me. He has for years.”

He looked back and forth between the two of us. “You’ve known each other for years?”

Fliss nodded. “I met him when I was still in high school.”

“Jaysus,” I quickly added, “but nothing happened then.”

“Right,” Fliss confirmed, “we’ve only been friends for years. It wasn’t until we met up in Dublin that things just fell into place.”

“If you’re from Dublin, then how did you meet my daughter years ago?”

“I came over from Ireland to go to Montana Tech, sir,” I said carefully, trying to talk slow and posh, to not sound quite so common.

“When did you graduate?”

“Well, I, um…”

“Dad,” Fliss scowled at him.

“What?” he replied. “Felicity, you were in high school when you met. I’m gathering Danny here—”

“Denny, sir,” I murmured, but he didn’t miss a beat and kept going.

“—was in college at the time?”

Fliss nodded.

“I’m just trying to figure out the age difference here.”

“It’s only about four years, Dad.”

That didn’t seem to soothe the tension that emanated from the man.

“And how are you planning to take care of my daughter?” he asked me.

Fliss bristled. “Dad, this isn’t like a hundred years ago where he has to be out taking care of the little wife back home. I’m almost done with my thesis for my Masters, and I’ve got two job interviews lined up for next week.”

“And, truth be told, sir, I actually make pretty decent money with what I do.”

“Music and art?”

“Right,” I replied. “The band has a twice weekly gig at the Copperline out near Ophir, and I have a pretty good little metal sculpture shop going in our garage. I get commissioned fairly often to do pieces for people’s gardens and things. They pay me kind of a ridiculous amount of money for it, actually.”

He didn’t look very impressed.

But, in the end, what could he really do? Fliss was an adult, into her mid-twenties. She could make her own decisions. And we were married, legally bound. Until death do us part.

“We will have to go fishing one of these days, Danny,” he offered with a look that suggested he probably wanted to just kill me and get it over with.

“It’s Denny, Dad,” Fliss said.

But Sheriff Williams didn’t really seem to give two fucks what my name was.

I was just glad he didn’t want to take me hunting.