Michael (Connelly Cousins #3) Page 17

  “Yes,” Michael confirmed.

  “But what do they have to do with anything?”

  Michael exchanged a look with his grandfather, who nodded. “Aye. Tell her. She’s part of the family now.”

  Keely looked from one person to the other. “Tell me what?”

  “Let’s just say, Uncle Jack and the lads have ways of getting things done outside of official channels.”

  “Oh. Ooohhhh,” she said, catching on.

  “I went to Ian when you first disappeared. He used his digital skills to find you, and in doing so, uncovered your true identity. Something didn’t sit right with him about Simon, so he started digging deeper and found enough to put him away for a long time. Of course, you provided the final nails for his coffin when you told me what he had done. Sean and Shane paid a visit to the fire marshal who was in charge at the time of the fire. The marshal passed away a few years ago, but they spoke to the son, who confirmed that the marshal had fudged a few official documents concerning the cause of the blaze.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He didn’t think he had a choice. The marshal resisted at first. Simon had the son abducted from school to prove a point. The marshal fixed the paperwork the next day in exchange for the safe return of his son. But that’s not the most interesting part.”

  “Oh?”

  “Not even close,” Michael grinned. “I sketched out your tatt for Ian –—the luckenbooth entwined with a Celtic cross. He ran it through his digital universe and got a few hits.”

  “It’s a family crest,” she confirmed.

  Conlan smiled. “It’s more than just a family crest, lass. Turns out yer mother’s family actually has more royal blood than yer father’s. As a matter of fact, yer kind of a princess of sorts. Or maybe a duchess. I never really did understand that whole title thing.”

  Keely nearly choked on her lemonade. “I’m what?”

  ”They thought the bloodline died out years ago. The women in your family have a long history of getting involved with bad boys from Scotland.” Michael’s eyes glowed wickedly. “Your great-great-grandmother, the last known heiress, vanished nearly two hundred years ago when she eloped with your great-great-grandfather. The estate’s been held in trust indefinitely until an heir could come forward and claim it.”

  It was all too incredible to take in at once. Stacey was nearly beside herself. “Oh, honey, this is going to make one hell of a story. Assuming you’re okay with me penning it, that is.”

  Keely looked blankly at Stacey in confusion. Lina’s eyes opened wide. “Oh my God, that’s right! She doesn’t know!” Lina turned to Keely. “Keely, Stacey is an author.” Her eyes twinkled merrily. “You might have heard of her. She goes by the pen name of Salienne Dulcette.”

  Keely’s mouth gaped as Stacey smiled in confirmation. “Guilty.”

  “Oh. My. God.” Keely turned back to Michael. “Um, would you kiss me, please? Because I simply cannot believe any of this is real.” Michael was only too glad to oblige, providing her with a blistering kiss that cleared everything out of her mind for several minutes at least.

  “An honest to God heiress, with an aristocratic title,” Stacey mused. “You just can’t make this stuff up.”

  “I still can’t believe it,” Keely said. “I must be dreaming.” She looked around the table at her new family, tears forming in her eyes. “How can I ever thank you?”

  “You already have, lass, by becoming a part of our family,” Conlan beamed. Keely could not stop herself from wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him fiercely before placing a kiss on his cheek. There were tears of joy in the old man’s eyes.

  “Uh-oh,” Lina said, narrowing her eyes. “I know that look. What do you know that we don’t know, Daideo?”

  Conlan laughed, his eyes twinkling when he looked at Keely. “Oh, lass, yer going to have yer hands full.”

  Keely wiped a stray tear from her eye. “Michael’s a sweetheart.”

  “Aye. But he was a real rascal when he was a wee lad. And those twin boys yer carrying are going to be just like him.” He winked and kissed her forehead. Michael looked momentarily stunned, then broke out in a huge grin.

  “Twin boys?”

  “Aye.”

  “But how could you possibly know that?” Keely asked, stunned.

  “Daideo knows things, baby. Just like he knew you were the one for me.”

  Michael pulled Keely back into his lap, as the others offered their congratulations. Lina laid a comforting hand on her arm, rubbing her round belly with the other. “It’s okay, hon. We’re all going to get through this together!”

  Keely smiled, feeling the love in her heart. For her husband. Her new family.

  And her rascals.

  Aye, they’d get through it. Together.

  Thanks for reading Michael and Keely’s story

  You didn’t have to pick this book, but you did. Thank you!

  If you liked this story, then please consider posting a review online! It’s really easy, only takes a few minutes, and makes a huge difference to independent authors who don’t have the mega-budgets of the big-time publishers behind them.

  Log on to your favorite online retailer and just tell others what you thought, even if it’s just a line or two. That’s it! A good review is one of the nicest things you can do for any author.

  As always, I welcome feedback. Email me at abbiezandersromance@gmail.com.

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  Please keep reading for a special bonus novella to see Jamie get his Happily Ever After.

  Thanks again, and may all of your ever-afters be happy ones!

  Abbie

  Bonus Feature: Jamie: A Connelly Cousins Novella

  (Connelly Cousins, 1.5)

  Note from Abbie: Jamie’s story wasn’t part of the original series, but so many of you wrote and asked that Jamie get his Happily Ever After, too. So here it is, Connelly Cousins 1.5, picking up where Celina’s story left off...

  “Fuck it.”

  Jamie McCullough thumped the leather-wrapped steering wheel with the palm of his hand, jacked the car into reverse, and stomped his foot down on the accelerator harder than usual. The bat-out-of-hell routine was more his brother’s style, but at that moment, he didn’t give a shit. He’d just found out that the woman he’d proposed to, was now happily married to his bad boy biker brother.

  Apparently, good guys really did finish last.

  He jammed the shifter into drive and with tires squealing in haste, narrowly avoided Kyle’s nosy neighbor Tammy. The intrusive cow must have seen his car parked in the driveway and figured she’d get a first-row seat to his humiliation. Either that, or she’d heard the implausible rumor of Kyle’s nuptials through the grapevine and was going to see for herself. The woman had an unparalleled knack for sniffing out juicy gossip, rivaled only by her compulsive need to share it with anyone and everyone with a working set of ears.

  Either way, he wanted no part of it.

  Jamie barked out a bitter laugh, thinking back to the previous week. After proposing to Celina himself in O’Leary’s Diner (perhaps not his smoothest move), she’d disappeared, and he’d gone to Kyle for help.

  Again.

  Biggest mistake ever.

  No, he corrected. The biggest mistake ever was introducing Kyle to Celina in the first place.

  Jamie slammed his palm down on the steering wheel and cursed.

  Kyle married. To Celina. Who could have seen that one coming?

  Apparently everyone but him. And wasn’t that another kick in the ass?

  Jamie took the turn fast enough to feel the body roll and send his spare pair of Ray-Ban aviators sliding off the dash. He and Celina had been dating for six month. Six months. And in all that time, he realized now,
he hadn’t known a goddamned thing about her.

  Like how she’d dreamed of owning her own motorcycle.

  Or that her older brother was Johnny Connelly, who lived right here in goddamned Birch Falls. How could he have missed making that connection? Connelly Construction signs were all over the place.

  Nor had he known that her best friend owned a book shop right here in town.

  The image of the brunette with the pretty hazel eyes popped into his mind, momentarily obscuring the red haze of anger and bruised feelings. Jamie had gone to talk with her a week earlier, after Celina had done her disappearing act. In between taking care of customers, she’d listened to him with a sympathetic ear, quietly confirming that there was something going on between Celina and Kyle.

  But even then, he hadn’t imagined this. Married.

  At the time, the news had come as a shock, but it shouldn’t have. Women loved his dark, brooding brother; they always had. Why should Celina have been any different? Wasn’t it a time-tested, proven fact that good girls were attracted to bad boys?

  And despite her highly questionable interest in his brother, Celina was a good girl. Sweet, funny, and intelligent, not to mention beautiful in a fresh, natural kind of way. Not Kyle’s usual one-night stand. Celina was the kind of woman a man married.

  Obviously, his inner self snorted.

  He had no one to blame but himself, he thought miserably. He had been the one who had gone to Kyle in the first place. He had been the one to introduce them. And he had been the one who’d left her alone shortly after, leaving the door wide open for Kyle to waltz right in and take what should have been his.

  Goddamn it.

  The news still hadn’t completely sunken in. He’d heard the words. Seen the ring on her finger. But his mind was still having trouble processing it. Kyle was all about the biker lifestyle, about living hard and fast, and Celina, well, Celina just wasn’t.

  Horns blared when Jamie almost ran a stop sign. He slammed on his brakes, narrowly avoiding the silver sedan crossing in front of him.

  “Sorry,” he bit out, offering an apology to the other driver in the form of a wave. The elderly woman scowled and shook her fist at him, then flipped him off.

  Once he made it safely through the intersection, Jamie drove about half a block before pulling over to the curb. Distracted driving was not his style, and at that moment, his mind was too busy dealing with the bitterness of betrayal to concentrate properly. The day was turning out to be bad enough without adding vehicular homicide to the mix.

  Jamie closed his eyes and took several deep breaths in an effort to calm down. Distracted by his anger, he’d nearly T-boned a senior citizen. Good God, he seriously needed to get a grip.

  After several minutes of deep breathing and counting to ten about fifty times, the delicious smell of freshly roasted coffee and pastries wafted in through the half-open window and permeated his angry fog. Jamie opened his eyes and looked around. He’d somehow ended up across the street from Amy’s Book Shoppe.

  He could see her through the window, moving behind the counter; a flash of chestnut hair, as she took care of her customers. He remembered her easy smile, sympathetic eyes, and that way she had of making people feel welcome.

  Before he realized what he was doing, a trio of little bells over the entrance was heralding his arrival.

  The interior was reminiscent of a sidewalk café in France. About half of the small, round tables were occupied. A woman in a power suit sipped a frothy concoction while reviewing some kind of document, occasionally jotting a note in the margins. Two teenagers, dressed in black, sat across from each other, intent on their iPhones. And in the corner, an elderly man sat with a massive black Labrador at his feet, reading the paper (the man, not the dog).

  There was only one person at the counter, a guy about his age, dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved t-shirt that looked two sizes two small. The tight fit emphasized his broad shoulders and a muscular upper body, which was a little too obviously his intent.

  Jamie’s first impression was that the guy didn’t seem to be the type who would frequent a book shop café. Comprehension dawned when Amy turned around to get a fresh carafe and the guy’s eyes fixed on Amy’s behind.

  His lascivious gaze flicked upwards when she turned around again, but not before Amy caught him ogling. Judging by the way her lips curled down at the corners, his interest wasn’t appreciated.

  Jamie didn’t care for it much, either.

  “Jamie!” Amy called in greeting when she spotted him. Her mouth curved into a genuine smile. Was that relief he saw in her eyes?

  “Hi Amy,” he said, taking a seat at the counter. He felt the scowl shot his way by Joey Pecs (as he’d mentally dubbed too-small-t-shirt-guy), but didn’t bother acknowledging it. Jamie was used to Kyle, and Kyle was a hell of a lot more intimidating than some protein-loading gym rat.

  “The usual?” Amy asked brightly.

  Since he’d only been in the shop twice – one brief visit with Kyle and then a solo stop later to get some answers, her question surprised him. She met his eyes and waited expectantly until the light bulb in his head finally flicked on.

  He gave her what he hoped was a believable smile in return. “Yeah, that would be great, thanks.”

  Amy busied herself with the impressive-looking machine behind her, then placed a cup in front of him.

  “I added an extra shot of espresso, so you don’t nod off halfway through the movie this time,” she told him with a grin.

  He chuckled, playing along. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  “No worries.” Amy hovered close to him. “That shirt looks awesome on you, by the way. I knew it would the moment I saw it in the store.”

  Jamie nearly choked on his drink, but thankfully, kept it together. He could feel Joey Pecs’s scowl darken, before the guy threw a couple of bills down on the table and walked out.

  “Thank you. Have a nice day!” she called out cheerfully.

  The smile faded from Amy’s face. “Thank you,” she told him earnestly, her shoulders sagging in relief. “That guy just didn’t want to take no for an answer.”

  “Glad I could help.” Jamie nodded. Help. That’s what nice guys did, right?

  She slide a small ceramic plate in front of him. He looked down into a delicious looking cream-cheese and pineapple Danish. “On the house.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “I know it’s not necessary. It’s a thank you, okay? Just go with it.”

  Until then he hadn’t had much of an appetite. His stomach had been twisted in knots. But apparently playing the hero loosened up a few of them, and it did smell awfully good. Though normally, he didn’t indulge in sweets, he didn’t want to offend her. He broke off a piece with his fork and brought it to his lips. As good as it smelled, it tasted even better. The flaky pastry melted in his mouth.

  “I take it you heard the news, huh?” she asked, not unkindly.

  He nodded.

  “You okay?”

  Was he? He felt betrayed. Blindsided. His male ego was in tatters, it was in the toilet. He couldn’t help but wonder where he’d gone wrong. If he should have said or done something differently.

  Her small hand rested over his. “It’s nothing you did, Jamie,” she said quietly, as if reading his mind. “Those two were meant to be together.”

  He snorted softly and broke off another piece of the Danish. He didn’t want to hear any more about insta-love or croies or any of that other crap. Solid, lasting relationships were not based on a flare of lust or a flash of black leather and the rumble of a Harley. They took time and effort, and God knew, he’d put a hell of a lot more time and effort into his relationship with Celina than Kyle had.

  Jamie opened his mouth to say so, but changed his mind when he looked into her clear hazel eyes. Flecks of gold sparkled with the ridiculous notion of romantic fantasy. Hey, if she wanted to believe in all that fated soul-mate stuff, he wasn’t going to be the dick who burst
her bubble.

  Realizing that she was still holding his hand, she pulled it away with an apologetic look and went to ring up a customer.

  He watched her out of his peripheral vision. She had a quiet confidence about her. A smile and a nice word for everyone – even the tool who’d been hitting on her. Because of that, these last five minutes had been the best part of his rotten day. Maybe that made him as pathetic as everyone else seemed to think he was.

  “So, what are we seeing tonight?” he asked when she returned with a fresh cup of coffee. He wasn’t sure what kind it was, but it was rich and bold, just as he liked it.

  She blinked in confusion, then a pretty, rose-colored blush tinted her cheeks. “Oh, I didn’t mean...” she grinned shyly, revealing a hint of a dimple. It was kind of adorable, really. “It was a clutch call on my part.”

  Yeah, he knew. But the thought of seeing a movie with her seemed a hell of a lot better than going back to his place and sharing his sorrow with a bottle of Southern Comfort. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but if he went home alone, that was exactly what was going to happen.

  “So you don’t want to see a movie with me?”

  The blush deepened. “I didn’t say that.”

  He couldn’t resist. “So you do want to see a movie with me.”

  “That’s not what I said!”

  “Then what exactly are you saying, Amy?”

  She inhaled deeply, then let her breath out in a carefully controlled exhale. As she leaned in and lowered her voice, he caught the subtle whiff of vanilla.

  “I’m saying that I appreciate the save, but you shouldn’t feel obligated to follow thru on what was clearly a spur of the moment flash of inspiration to stop that guy from coming on to me.”

  “Oh.” Jamie took a drink from his cup, then broke off another forkful of heaven and chewed thoughtfully, dissecting her words. She hadn’t come right out and said she didn’t want to go to the movies with him. Maybe she was just being kind, but at the moment, he’d take a bit of kindness.