Entwined Read online

  “Yeah, I’ve convinced Bridget to stay at home more often instead of coming to work which, by the way, wasn’t all that hard. She wants to be home with him and doesn’t want to deal with the hassle of the strippers anymore. According to her, it’s not good for her or the baby, and I’m not talking about Liam here.” Dean grins smugly.

  “Bridget’s pregnant again?” I ask, surprised by this yet not quite. Those two are always in each other’s embrace one way or another.

  “Yeah, just found out she’s twelve weeks along.” Dean chuckles, causing Liam to move on his chest but not wake up. The kid is used to listening to his father’s baritone, so he doesn’t ever wake up when he’s in a deep sleep.

  At first, when he’d been born, I’d felt many emotions where the baby is concerned. I didn’t want to hold the child but when Dean deemed me his godfather, of course, I had no choice in the matter. I held him and knew though I would never hold my own son that I’d buried next to his mother, I could give my love to Liam as if he were my own. Because no matter what, I’ll never have children. I refuse to even think about the possibility of it.

  And that’s something Alison will have to live with because there will be none between her and myself.

  “Congratulations,” I murmur and take a seat across from him.

  “So you ready for the trip to Ireland in two weeks?” Dean asks, bringing up the time frame for when I’m to marry his sister-in-law.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I mutter, releasing a heavy breath.

  “Good, I know it’s not easy for you to do this, but Alison is a sweet girl and though I haven’t seen her since the wedding, I have spoken to her over the phone when she’s taken Bridget’s calls. Tomàs MacDermott informed me, she arrived home from the abbey yesterday,” Dean says, giving me information I honestly don’t care about.

  I have two weeks until I marry this woman-child and I don’t want to have to think about her or hear of her until the day I have to see her.

  “That’s good,” I say with a nod.

  “Been where you are, Mitch, I get it. It sucks not knowing what you’re getting, and you won’t until that day, but I’ll tell you this, at least think about opening yourself up to a chance,” Dean suggests.

  “I’ll think about it,” I lie. I have no intentions of opening myself up to Alison, but I won’t tell him this. It’s my duty to marry her for the Alliance, so I’ll do what I must.

  Chapter Two

  Alison

  Coming home is something I’ve dreaded for the past two years. I knew the day would come, but after avoiding home when Da offered to allow me to leave the abbey for holidays and such, I stayed where I could hide away from them all. I haven’t even seen my sister since she left Ireland, nor have I met my nephew.

  The most I’ve done is seen them by video chatting with them or simply speaking to them over the phone. I didn’t want to see them in person and wish for more time.

  Now sitting in the kitchen of Da’s home, I sip a cup of tea while looking at the newspaper. I get to stay in my childhood home for the next two weeks before leaving it once again. I hate the thought of leaving Ireland, my home, but I’m excited to be going to America. There’s so much to think about, and all of it is bittersweet as I realize how much I’ve missed home in the past two years.

  Last night after arriving home, Da made sure that we spent time together and like when Bridget and I were children sat on the couch with me and watched a movie while eating take-out. This is definitely something I’ve missed. He’s a busy man but he always tried to carve out time for us. Even if it was for us to have dinner together each night.

  “Good morning, iníon,” Da calls out as he enters the kitchen. “What are you doing in here drinking your tea, rather than at the breakfast table?”

  “Morning, Da,” I murmur, giving him a smile. “I’ve been up since the sun rose in the sky. I’m used to being up early, so I’ve already had breakfast. One I cooked myself,” I announce, beaming at the accomplishment. It’s one of the things Sister Caitlin taught me while I’d been at the abbey. To cook as I’d wanted to learn.

  “Much has changed with you m’iníon álainn. You seem different in some way, Alison, and I’ve missed having you home. The house is not the same without you and your tú féin agus do dheirfiúr,” Da says, coming further into the kitchen.

  Of course, the house wouldn’t be the same. It’s only been him here for the past two years alone. At least, I think so. Da has never brought another woman into this house. Bridget and I knew he took women to bed but never here at our home. A home he shared with our mamma.

  “I’m still the same person, Da, simply two years older in age and finished with my schooling is all,” I utter, not knowing what else to say. It’s somewhat strange being home and near him. Other than letters and a few phone calls with him, I’ve not seen him.

  “Well, for the most part, my two weeks have been cleared to spend some time with you. How does that sound?” he announces.

  “I would love that, Da.” I smile, loving he’d take the time to spend with me.

  “Good, now I have something for you for your wedding day,” Da murmurs, shocking me with this news. “Here, come with me into the sunroom.”

  Nodding, I slip off the barstool I’d been sitting on and step over to him and place my hand in the crook of his arm. The two of us don’t speak again until we’re seated together at the little table set in the middle of the room.

  This is one of my favorite rooms in the house and one my da reconstructed for me to be able to sit in the window seat to read my books when I were in here, rather than on the floor where I would sit as a child.

  Da places a small box on the table and slides it across the table. “This was do mhama,” he whispers softly, eyes gentle but saddened as he mentions my mamma. He used to say my mamma was the love of his life, the other half of his heart and no one else would align to his in the way she did.

  I never understood this, and if I’m honest, I still don’t.

  Reaching out, I pick the box up and open it to find a sapphire ring sitting within it. “Do mhama, she wanted you to have this for the day you married,” he utters the words as tears prick at my eyes.

  My breath hitches in my chest as I close my eyes. Memories of my mamma wearing this very same ring. Her smiling at me when she’d tell Bridget and me about the Christmas Da gave it to her. She’d sometimes take it off for me to put on. Other times the ring would be gleaming in the sunlight as she’d dance in the yard with us, laughing and giggling. I wish she were still here; she was the most wonderful mom you could ask for. She’d go to the ends of the earth for her children, and God took her all too soon with the accident she’d been in.

  That day our lives changed dramatically. Yes, Da still made time for Bridget and me but started working far more than he used to. This was when Bridget’s overdramatics began, and I started to really seclude myself from the world not wanting to be hurt in any way.

  It’s also why I’ll do my duty to my father because I highly doubt whoever I’m to marry in two weeks will ever be a man I could give my heart to.

  Opening my eyes, I glance to my da with shimmering eyes. “Thank you, Da. I love it, but will Bridget be upset that I received this and she didn’t?”

  “No, Alison. I’ve spoken with do dheirfiúr, and she agrees that you should have it since she was given a necklace of do mhama’s at Uilliam’s christening,” Da mutters, causing my chest to tighten once again. I’d missed so much in my attempt to stay away until it was time to wed.

  “I love you, Da,” I whisper, placing the box on the table and stand to my feet in order to round the table and throw myself into his arms. Da stands before I can get to him and holds his arms out for me as I make it to him. Wrapping his arms around me, I allow the tears to finally slide down my cheeks. He’s the only man I think I’ll ever allow in my heart.

  He’s my strength and who I turn to when I need comforting. And this is one of the things I’ve
missed out on the past two years because I’d been selfish in not coming home from the abbey to visit.

  Chapter Three

  Mitch

  “Mitch, are you gonna take me home to have your wicked way with or what?” the chick I’d picked up for the night purrs while reaching a hand up to trail her fingers over my chest. Tonight’s the last night I have before leaving for Ireland and my impending nuptials to Alison.

  I’ve taken advantage of these last two weeks in getting my cock deep into as much pussy as possible. I did this with the sole thought of never doing anything but only vanilla fuckin’ for the rest of my life. As a man of honor, I would never cheat on Alison once we’re married, and considering she’s probably boring as hell, I’ll have to make do with what she’ll give me.

  So with tonight being my last night hurrah as such, I’m gonna have one last fuck before getting on the jet early in the morning.

  Grinning at the woman, I take in her dark hair and body. This has been something else I’ve done a lot more of these past two weeks. Finding women who have dark hair. Dean showed me a recent picture Tomàs had sent to Bridget of her sister when she’d gotten home, and of course, they had to have me look at Alison.

  I can’t say I blame them for this. She’s definitely changed in the last two years having filled out somewhat. This is also the reason for my change from blondes to darker haired women. That and my wife coming to me in my dreams.

  Her dream visits have seemed strange. Especially when she keeps saying that it’s okay for me to move on. That I should let her go completely and find happiness. I could never let her go. Not completely. She was the woman who held my heart, even if our marriage had been short-lived before she’d been killed.

  “Yeah, we can get out of here, and I’ll take you somewhere to fuck your brains out then send you on your way. You good with that, then we’ll go. Otherwise, I ain’t taking you anywhere,” I mutter, putting it out there that this is a one and done. I won’t be back for seconds and she sure as fuck won’t be sleeping next to me.

  “Oh, that’s fine with me.” She giggles, lifting her drink with her free hand and downs the rest of the fruity mixed drink she’d been drinking all night.

  I’d already finished my drink and signaled for the bartender to close my tab. Standing from my seat, I take the woman’s hand and guide her out of the club we’d been at. Outside, I guide her down to the hotel where I’d gotten a room to stay in for the last few weeks. I’d been doing this while things were getting done to the house. Like a new bed and shit.

  I might be an asshole, but I’m not that much of one to put Alison in a bed I’d fucked numerous women in. That’s just fucked up, in my opinion, for someone to do to a woman they’re marrying.

  At the entrance to the hotel, I step through the sliding doors and into the foyer of the building to keep moving to the elevators. Inside the closed box of metal, I push the button for my floor without speaking to the woman I’m about to sink my cock into within the next few minutes. The woman, on the other hand, has other ideas and starts running her hands on my body, cupping my cock.

  Capturing her wrist, I pull her hand away from my cock. “You don’t touch me unless I tell you to,” I command as the elevator pings and comes to a stop on my floor.

  The woman pouts her lip out, making herself completely unattractive. I’m half tempted to send her on her way now. I could easily go get my cock sucked from someone else or find another fuck. I still have time.

  In my room, I release her wrist and close the door. I step around the woman; I swear she said her name, but I didn’t give enough of a fuck to remember it. Preferring to keep her known as woman rather than anything else. It’s better than calling her slut or whore like she’s being. I remove my belt and unfasten my jeans, releasing my semi-hard cock from its confinements. “Now you can get on your knees and suck my cock. But you only touch me with your mouth,” I order, not wanting this woman’s hands on me. Something about her tells me she’s the clingy type so I’m keeping her from sinking her claws into me.

  The woman falls to her knees and crawls the short three steps to me. She then proceeds to take my cock in her mouth and moans around it. I have to close my eyes to envision she is someone else with dark, beautiful hair. In my mind’s eye she turns into Alison. Why for some reason I’d want her, I don’t know, and right now, I don’t give a fuck.

  As she sucks me I keep the image of Alison in my head. My cock stiffens even though the woman is bad at giving me a blowjob. She needs a lesson in keeping her teeth from touching my shaft. Having enough of that, I reach out and pull her mouth off my cock and point her in the direction of the bed. “Stand at the side of it with your hands on the bed. Hike your skirt up on your waist and make sure you’re wet for me.” Because I sure am not gonna be eating her pussy. It’s rare that I’ll eat a pussy because to me, that’s something intimate. I’ve always made the woman get herself prepared for me to enter her.

  Grabbing a condom from the box on the nightstand, I rip the foil open and roll the condom down my shaft, giving it a few jerks to keep myself from deflating. I step behind her and rub my cock at her entrance, finding her dripping for me. Without delay or warning, I thrust home sinking all the way to the hilt. The woman cries out her pleasure and I block out her noise focused solely on finding my release. At this point, I don’t even care if she finds hers as well. She wants it she’ll have to help herself out in the process.

  Hands on her hips, I power into her, slamming deep inside each and every time. My release boils in my balls ready to burst free. I quicken my movements even more, causing the woman to scream as her pussy tightens around my cock as I come filling the condom with my release.

  No sooner I finish coming in the condom, I pull out and step away from her. I’m gentleman enough to pull her skirt back down for her but that’s it. “You can show yourself out,” I grunt and head for the en suite bathroom.

  “But . . .”

  “No buts, I told you what this was,” I mutter.

  “Yes, but I thought we’d at least go more than just that,” she rasps huskily, trying to sound seductive.

  “Got what I needed, now get the fuck out,” I growl, not wanting to put up with a clingy bitch. That’s all I need to deal with right before leaving in the morning.

  With a huff, the woman storms to the door and slams it behind her on the way out.

  Good fuckin’ riddance.

  Shaking my head, I go to the bathroom and shower quickly, making sure to scrub off any evidence of the woman from my cock. Once I finish, I shut the water off, step out, and dry off. I head back into my room and slip on a pair of basketball shorts.

  Finally, I throw myself on top of the bed and snag my phone from the side table where I’d left it when I went out earlier to the bar. I didn’t want to be bothered for a bit, so I’d left it behind. Opening the screen, I respond to a few messages from Dean and Kenyon, then I pull up the image Dean sent me of Alison.

  I wonder if she’ll seem more like a child rather than the woman she resembles. I can see the difference in her now as she’s matured in beauty, her face enhanced with her looks of a woman rather than her looks from when she’d been barely legal.

  I suppose when we finally meet again, this time officially, I’ll find out if I’m marrying a woman or child. Age doesn’t always matter, and in this case, with her being so much younger than myself, I’ll have to rely on figuring out the maturity of my bride when I speak with her.

  Let’s hope she’s nothing like her sister. I definitely don’t need or want the headache she could cause me if that’s the case.

  Chapter Four

  Alison

  I can’t believe the past two weeks, since coming home, have flown by the way they did. A lot of that time was spent with my da. The two of us together. He’d taken me with him when he’d go into town, if I wanted to go shopping or do something else, he’d placed one of his men on me while I did so during the times he’d had meetings and such.
/>   Also, I learned that he’d been seeing a woman, and he’d wanted to introduce her to Bridget and me. I found her nice enough, though she’ll never be my mamma, I can at least be happy for my da. He’s far from over the hill and has focused so much time on work and his children that he deserves this.

  With him only being in his late forties and this woman her name being Abigail also around the same age as him . . . There’s so much in my head when it comes to the whole thing, I’m confused. I did find out that Abigail knew my mother and that my mamma was her friend. My da confirmed this and explained a few things about their past to me.

  Abigail even informed me to never worry about her trying to step into my mamma’s place as that is something she’d never do. She respected my mamma too much for such a thing. Abigail also stated that though she cares deeply for my da and that they are in a somewhat relationship, they would never wed. This being because her heart belonged to her departed husband as Da’s belongs to my mamma.

  After hearing this from her, I knew I could like her and want her for my da.

  Now, as I get ready for my impending dinner with my family, I’m nervous as can be. Da invited Abigail at my request since she is going to be a part of his life she should be here as well. Especially to meet Bridget. I only hope mo dheirfiúr mhór doesn’t lose her head and cause any conflict as she’s known to do.

  As for me being nervous, yeah, that has to do with the fact I’m finding out who I’m marrying. Da did tell me a little bit about the man. Evidently, I’d met him briefly at my sister’s wedding and that he’d been in the wedding party and walked next to me down the aisle.

  The moment he’d said this, I knew it was Mitch he’d arranged for me to marry.

  Though I’d never spoken a word to him, nor did he speak to me. I knew this could go one of two ways. One, he could marry me and go on about his business being who he is and leave me alone thinking I’m nothing more than a child in a woman’s body. Or he could find I’m far more mature and smarter, well in some ways, than other women my age.