The Shamrock Read Free Page B

wouldn’t happen to be why your skin looks kinda orange this week, would it?”
    His brother held up a hand. “Don’t ask.”

     
    A thought occurred to Sirai, and she looked at her friend. “While you’re laughing about me needing a cock—”
    “Or two.”
    Sirai ignored that. “Exactly why haven’t you cleared the cobwebs outta your vagina and revived it with Braedan yet?”
    Candice snorted. “Because the prick must pay for his twisted sense of humor before he can even have the right to fantasize about the blessing of my body bringing him pleasure.”
    “Excuse me while I throw up in my mouth a little bit. Um, you’re still bitter about the ‘Homeboys in Outer Space’ incident, aren’t you?”
    “We said we wouldn’t mention that.”
    Sirai smirked and repeated her friend’s words from earlier. “No, you said we wouldn’t mention it. I never agreed.”
    “You’re an asshole. You know that?”
    Sitting back, she got comfortable. “Yes, yes I do. I also know you want that man so I suggest you stop playing around and get him before someone else does.”
    “When I have my much needed revenge for the last stunt he pulled then I will be more than glad to fuck him through any surface available.”
    “And once again, excuse me while I throw up a little in my mouth. Hey, wait, you said ‘last stunt.’ That wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with why your hair looks a little on the blue side every time you get under light, would it?”
    Candy held up a hand. “Don’t ask.”
     

C HAPTER F OUR
     
    Someone was shouting at her and it felt like every word was about to split her skull. Taking a hand she cupped it over the person’s mouth and, without opening her eyes, simply commanded, “Shush your face, please.”
    Feeling those lips smile, she cracked one lid open and then the other. When the overhead lights made contact with her eyes, she slammed them shut again as a groan left her throat.
    “What happened to me?” Sirai asked slowly.
    The shouter was trying to talk against her palm, making every word come out muffled. If she could’ve rolled her eyes without screaming in agony, she would have. Instead she just pulled her hand away. “You can un-shush your face now, random person who’s leaning over me all conspicuously. Hey, wait a second, you wouldn’t happen to be the reason I’m down here, would you?”
    There was a rumbling chuckle. Sirai felt fingertips brush gently across her forehead—moving her bangs, she guessed. “You can’t blame anybody for being a klutz but yourself, jinx.”
    All of a sudden she knew exactly the identity of the anonymous loomer. Trying to scowl, and failing miserably, she lifted a hand and pointed it at Ardan. “ You! This is all your fault!”
    He jerked back. “ Me? How is this my fault?”
    She sat up slowly, rubbing the back of her head. “Yes, your fault. You and this nice shit that you’ve been playing at for the past week.”
    Ardan rolled his eyes and sat back on his haunches. “What’re you talking about?”
    “Oh, don’t give me that! Ever since I stole your truck, you’ve been plotting on how to get me back. I’m on to you.” Sirai’s eyes scanned the empty bar, making sure no one else witnessed her unfortunate encounter with the small stone statue of Saint Patrick.
    Ardan had come up behind her while she’d been setting up for their annual St. Patty’s celebration in the pub and told her she looked good in green. Seeing as how she didn’t know the giant bastard was even there, it scared the shit out of her and she jumped hard enough to back into a few low shelves. Saint Patrick came tumbling down on her head and it was lights out.
    Those hazel eyes widened in his face, making him look impossibly adorable and even a little innocent. “Plotting?” he questioned. “Me?”
    “I’m not playing that game with you.” She kicked at one of his thighs. “Move it, O’Reilly.”
    “I didn’t make that statue fall on