Jess is the unluckiest woman in the world. Nothing in her world every goes right. So, when a tree crashes through her bedroom window, she’s unsurprised until a drop-dead gorgeous Irishman sticks his head inside. In this steamy novella, Jess finds herself falling harder and harder for this man who her best friend swears is a leprechaun.
Will Jess finally get lucky?
Previously published in Lucky Between The Sheets but now with a new steamy shower scene.
In this excerpt, Conall’s invited Jess to his place to discuss how he’ll fix the bedroom window he broke with a tree. Jess is transfixed with the hot Irishman who claims he’s a cobbler amongst other professions.
“I am a contractor,” he explained as if to assure me he didn’t have bodies hidden under the floorboards, “carpenter when needed.”
“And occasional cobbler?”
“People too often let good shoes go to waste.”
I was going to give Abby so much grief for her leprechaun theory. He wasn’t some magical, gold-hoarding pixie. He’s a drop-dead gorgeous Irishman who builds things. Perfectly normal. Dime a dozen, really.
“Is that why you were cutting down the tree?” I asked.
Conall squinted. “I don’t know many who use trees for shoes. Excusing the Dutch.” Before I could explain, he laughed and did it for me. “Yes, there was mention of a dead tree in the yard. The landscapers feared it might fall and cause damage. I’m afraid I didn’t realize how rotten the roots became when it tipped into your bedroom.”
I remembered the old elm. It hadn’t shown signs of life in a couple of summers. Maybe a few branches with leaves, but that was it. His story made sense. Better than “I wanted to see if you slept naked and broke your window to get a peek.”
Bouncing on my naked heels, I said, “I’m amazed I didn’t hear the chainsaw.”
“To cut down the tree. They’re always so loud and…” I trailed his line of sight behind me toward the front door. “You can hear them for miles,” I kept babbling while staring at an ax that looked like it could cleave a bear in half. It rested against a shoe rack as if it belonged there.
“You cut it down by hand?”
Conall shrugged. “There is usually some back, chest, and thigh involved as well.” To emphasize, he drew his tree-chopping hand against said body parts which invited me to join in looking. How could I not have noticed those thighs before?
“You, me…” My lips sputtered words incoherently while my imagination flooded with a half-naked Irish lumberjack. “We!” I snapped out of it, realizing I had no idea where I was going. “We were going to discuss fixing the window. My window. My broken window.”
Sweet lord, I sounded like an imbecile, but Conall was kind enough to chuckle at my ineptitude. He leaned nearer, his smile overwhelming me, when a ding broke from further inside the house. “Ah, sounds as if supper is ready,” he declared, spinning on his heel and marching towards the supposed kitchen.
On instinct, I trailed him, giving into the occasional glance at his ass and the sway of the suspenders. “You had no idea when I’d come over and it just got done now?” I voiced one of the less incriminating thoughts in my head.
Sparkling eyes whipped back to me and he winked. “I’m rather lucky that way.”
The smile stumbled my feet, his wink alighting my cheeks, and I muttered, “Must be nice. I’m afraid I’m not so lucky.”
His gaze danced from my blushing cheeks down my cleavage and he snickered, “Give it time.”
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