Fighter's Kiss: An enemies-to-lovers MMA romance (Irish Kiss Book 3), page 34
“They love you,” I whispered up at him as the cameras went crazy as Declan leaned over to kiss my cheek. “Just the way you are.”
“Over here!” a cameraman shouted. “River! River! Over here!”
Declan grinned down at me and winked. “They love you,” he said. “They’re all here for you tonight. I’m here for you always.”
Declan’s lips found mine and we kissed on the red carpet before we turned the corner arm in arm and stepped inside a brightly lit, art-filled gallery…my gallery.
Cheers erupted from the gathered crowd the moment Declan and I entered. I couldn’t help but blush, turning my red cheek against Declan’s chest.
Oisin stepped up to us with two glasses of champagne.
Declan and I each took one.
Oisin squeezed my shoulders and kissed me on the cheek. “I barely managed to snatch these from Joan,” he whispered before giving me a quick wink.
I glanced over his shoulder to find Joan stopping a waiter in a fine black-and-white suit to fill her hands with as many champagne glasses as she could. I laughed as Joan then shouted for me to give a speech.
I was shaking my head, about to explain that I couldn’t when Miley, already next to a fine-ass Irishman, shouted, “Speech, bitch!”
I resisted the urge to retreat into Declan’s arms, but this was my work and I was proud of it. I could speak to a room packed with more people than I could count who would be judging my every wor— “Hi, everyone,” I said before I could completely chicken out. “Thank you for coming.”
Applause burst out as I smiled at all the faces I recognised and loved: Joan and Oisin, Miley, Danny and Diarmuid and their lovely wives, Noah and Aubrey. I was briefly overwhelmed by all their support.
“This project was inspired by my husband, Declan. Maybe you know him?”
Laughter filled my airy gallery and I chuckled at my own lame joke. Why didn’t I practice this? I silently chastised myself. I cleared my throat before continuing, “But seriously, do you know him?” I paused and glanced around the room. “Because the world thought they knew who Declan ‘The Homewrecker’ Gallagher was.”
I looked up at my husband.
“But I saw someone entirely different…” My voice was softer now. “Someone kinder, gentler, more tender. And I wanted the world to see that.”
Declan and I stared into each other’s eyes. The room was so silent.
“I love you,” I mouthed up to him.
He smiled. “I love you, too,” he mouthed back.
I turned back to the crowd and raised my glass. “So thank you for coming, and I hope you like this study of the private and public lives of some famous Irish we all think we know!”
Cheers again filled my ears along with clinking glasses.
Declan hugged me tight to him. “You’re brilliant, River,” he said against the top of my head. “Come with me. I want to show you my favourite photograph.” He interlaced his fingers with mine.
I followed after him, curious which photograph could be his favourite. We passed photographs that I considered my most artistic, my most technically advanced, my most unique, my most well edited. We passed all of those and finally stopped in front of a photograph I never would have guessed.
After staring at the photograph for a moment in the silence between Declan and me in the loud, busy gallery, I looked up at him.
He was already looking down at me.
“This one?” I asked, my voice but a whisper.
Declan nodded.
I glanced between the photograph and him, then back again. “Why?”
Declan wrapped his arm around my shoulders and looked back toward the photograph himself.
It was a simple black-and-white photograph of a large, muscular forearm, and resting on that forearm was a tiny, naked newborn baby boy.
“Because, my love,” he said. “It’s the moment when I gained my greatest title yet…dad.”
The End
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Dear Reader
Thank you for your patience in waiting for this story. It took me four rewrites and so many frustrated tears to get this one right. Declan is such a wonderfully complicated character that he just needed—needed—the right story and the right woman. I hope I did him justice. I hope you love River and Declan’s story as much as I do!
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Have you read Noah and Aubrey’s story in The Irish Lottery?
The Irish Lottery: Four hot Irish brothers ready to play out your ultimate fantasy…
Noah
Desperate times call for desperate measures. Our ma is sick and this lottery is the only way to raise that much money quickly.
But when my best friend in the whole world, the girl I’ve secretly loved for years, turns up as the winner I cannot believe it.
When I read the secret fantasy she’s submitted I almost choke.
She just wants us to give her what she’s never had…
…an O.
This could be the very thing I need to convince her that we should be more than friends. I could give her what she wants—the sexiest night of her life…and more.
I just hope she’s happy when she finds out who’s behind the mask.
The Irish Lottery is a standalone friends-to-lovers contemporary romance in the Irish Kiss standalone series.
Out now
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Keep reading for an excerpt!
Can’t get enough of the Irish?
I used to think I was one of the lucky ones.
But at twenty-six, I’ve left my “perfect” life in New York behind—my perfect fiancé, my stylish friends, my high-flying marketing career—and moved to Ireland.
Truthfully, my perfect fiancé is now my ex after I walked in on him face-deep in my best friend’s p***y.
And my career? It’s over. Because that cheating ex-fiancé of mine…he owns the company I worked for.
I know. I know. Don’t screw your boss. Trust me, I’m never making that mistake again.
On my way to the remote Irish farm I’m now working on, my car hits a ditch. I’m rescued by the three sexiest men I’ve ever seen.
The three Irish O’Callaghan brothers.
Broad shoulders, strong arms, accents that make me wet just to hear them.
I want them. All of them.
They all want me.
Plot twist…
Turns out they’re my new bosses.
Warning: This is a sexy yet emotional reverse-harem romance, a full-length, standalone novel at 50k words. Three sexy Irish brothers who want nothing more than to please their special woman. All at the same time.
Sienna’s Quick & Dirty series consists of standalone novels which are hotter, dirtier and quicker than her other novels.
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Keep reading to the end for an excerpt!
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Excerpt of The Irish Lottery
Noah
“Policemen.”
“Men in suits.”
“Ooo!” Aubrey cried. “Irish cowboys. So hot right now.”
I let out a chuckle. Sitting here joking around with Aubrey about sexy calendar themes made me feel lighter. She hadn’t left my side and so we were still cuddled up under my arm. The world and all its problems felt so much smaller this way.
“We could wear actual cowboy hats,” I said, taking her concept and running with it.
“Only cowboy hats. And boots.” She laughed and let out a snort looking up to me.
My heart flipped when our eyes met. I wanted to lean down and kiss the shit out of her. But I couldn’t.
Instead, I gave her shoulder a squeeze and said, “What would I do without you, Rey?”
She giggled in that girlish way that wrapped around the base of my spine. “I know. I’m pretty awesome.”
I grinned. “You being stood up was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed at my arm playfully. “Ass. You know Sean didn’t really stand me up. He got the dates mixed up.”
Four years ago, I spotted her sitting on one of the stools alone at The Jar glaring at her phone, obviously having been stood up. She was a pretty girl so I did what I did with every pretty girl I saw while I was working behind the bar. I went up to her, served her a drink on the house and made her laugh. But by the end of the night, we were both in stitches. She was a little drunk and I was completely drunk on her.
I’d walked her home after closing up and said goodbye to her at her front door. I’d cussed myself out all the way home and all the next day for not kissing her. For not claiming her then. I hesitated because…well, because I’d sensed even then that a kiss with her wouldn’t just be a kiss.
Back then, I hadn’t been ready for it. But you’re never ready when you fall in love. That was the night I’d fallen in love with Aubrey Campbell. Even if I didn’t realize it at the time.
If only I’d kissed her.
Maybe she wouldn’t have accepted Sean’s apology in the form of generic red roses. Sunflowers were her favourite flowers.
She wouldn’t have gone on that date with Sean the next day. Maybe she wouldn’t be his girlfriend.
Fiancée.
She was his fiancée now.
Maybe I wouldn’t just be her friend.
If I could turn back time…
But I couldn’t.
I tasted bitterness at the back of my throat. My fingers curled into Aubrey’s flesh and I was seconds away from kissing her the way I should have four years ago. But that would ruin everything. She was with another man. Our friendship would be over if I ever made a move on her. I would lose her. Forever. The thought of not having Aubrey in my life, even as friends, was too painful to bear. More painful than having to love her in secret.
I pulled away from her suddenly, leaping to my feet. “I should go, Rey.”
Her face flashed with disappointment and my heart ached. Because I knew there wasn’t anything underneath that disappointment other than she didn’t want her best friend to leave.
“Okay.” She stood as well, wrapping her arms over her chest as if she were hugging herself, chewing her kissable bottom lip with her teeth. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I ran the hell out of there before I pulled her back into my arms.
How fucking ironic.
Noah O’Sullivan, one of Dublin’s biggest players, in love with the only girl he couldn’t have.
Out now
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Excerpt of Three Irish Brothers
“Fionn,” Killian barks. “Ye better go see Cormac and tell him where to find her car to get it towed.”
Does he think I’m fucking incompetent? “Excuse me, but I think I can organize getting my car fixed myself. You’ve done enough to help, thanks.” My voice is dripping with snark.
Killian snorts as he eyes me up and down. “No offense, girl, but if you ask him to tow and fix yer car for ye, he’ll see ye comin’ a mile away and take ye for a ride. Let Fionn do it.”
Killian is so demanding. So bossy. So damn infuriating. I want to kiss the shit out of him. Slap! I mean, slap the shit out of him.
Jesus, Savannah.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth as I fist my hands into my pockets so I don’t grab Killian around the neck and do just that. “Thanks for your help, Fionn.”
“Anything for you, pretty lady.” Fionn winks before he strides off to wherever he’s going, presumably to organize getting my car fixed by this Cormac fellow, who I assume is a mechanic. I think. I hope.
It’s just Killian and me now.
I glare at him as he glares back. I can’t help but think how damn good-looking he is, even with that scowl on his face. Perhaps the scowl makes him hotter. As if he knows what I’m thinking, it deepens.
Yeah, it definitely makes him hotter.
“Are ye going to stand around gawking at me all day,” he demands, “or are ye going to call whoever it is that cares?”
Asshole.
Beautiful asshole.
“I am not gawking.”
“Yeah, ye are.”
“If I’m gawking, so are you.”
He shakes his head. “Never seen someone so out of place here.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He waves his hand at me as if he’s batting a fly. “First of all, look at what you’re wearing.”
I stare down at my outfit, a cream cashmere sweater tucked into a high-waisted mandarin, black and cream plaid wool skirt, teamed with diamante opaque tights and latte-colored knee-high boots. Sure it’s crinkled from a six-and-a-half hour flight and over two hours in the car, but I still think I look fabulous.
I look back up to the asshole brother. “You have something against Burberry?”
He frowns. “Burber-what now?”
I roll my eyes. Uncultured ass. “Bur-ber-ry,” I pronounce as if he was dumb. “The brand name.”
“Brand names,” he mutters. “See, there’s your first mistake. Your second… Jaysus, I don’t even know where to start.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re in the west coast of Ireland, girl. There’s no room here for your fancy skirts and fancy shoes and fancy ass car and your…your damn blueberry brand.”
“Burberry.”
“Whatever.”
“Asshole,” I mutter.
He snorts. “Call someone who cares.”
“I will,” I practically yell, startling a passerby walking into the store.
I rummage through my bag—a blue limited-edition Chloe bag, fuck you very much—and find my new phone. Thank God, it has reception. Barely. I can see that tiny single bar there. But one bar is all I need. Just hang on for me, little bar.
I find the number I need and ring it.
Coincidentally, a phone starts blaring in Killian’s pocket. He yanks out his phone from his pocket and answers. “Yeah?”
I hear the echo of Killian’s rich, deep voice in my ear, sliding down my spine. I imagine him standing close enough to talk in my ear this way for real, making me shiver.
Until I realize what the hell this means.
“Killian, why are you answering this call?”
Kilian flinches, then stares at me. “Why the feck are you calling my number?”
Oh. No.
“What did you say your last name is?” I ask, a panic rising in me.
“O’Callaghan.”
O’Callaghan…
Oh. Shit.
It couldn’t be.
“The O’Callaghans that live on Nore Valley Farm?”
“Yeah…” Killian says slowly, “how the hell do ye know that?”
I try to swallow but fail. I can’t decide whether the knot in my throat is from dread or excitement. Or both.
The O’Callaghans were the ones who just accepted my volunteer application.
I am supposed to be staying with the three of them at their farm.
The O’Callaghan brothers are my new bosses.
Out now
Amazon Universal Link
Books by Sienna Blake
Irish Kiss Standalone Series
Irish Kiss
Professor’s Kiss
Fighter’s Kiss
The Irish Lottery
Quick & Dirty Standalone Series
Three Irish Brothers
My Irish Kings
Royally Screwed
Bound Duet
Bound by Lies (#1)
Bound Forever (#2)
A Good Wife Standalone Series
Beautiful Revenge
Mr. Blackwell’s Bride
Dark Romeo Trilogy
Love Sprung From Hate (#1)
The Scent of Roses (#2)
Hanging in the Stars (#3)
Paper Dolls
Acknowledgements
To PT, CM and DA - real life fighters who taught me about MMA and gave me a piece of Declan each.
To Claire and Sean, for your advice on recovery after accidents and brain injuries.
As always, thank you to my Irish mates for correcting my Irish-isms and slang. Yer alright ;)
To Leanore Elliott, and Christie of Proof Positive. Thank you for being the best editing team a girl could have, especially working so hard with the tight publishing timeframe I gave ye.
