Love And The Leprechaun by Bronwyn Storm
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. Love and the Leprechaun COPYRIGHT © 2008 by Bronwyn Storm All rights reserved. This is an “unedited” as is title. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Contact Information:
[email protected] Cover Art by The Wild Rose Press The Wild Rose Press PO Box 706 Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706 Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com Publishing History First Faery Rose Edition, 2008 Free Read Published in the United States of America
On a normal day, wandering the streets dressed in full leprechaun attire, complete with cobbling tools and dangerously low-cut bodice, would guarantee Shawnessy Paxton a free ride with the mental health authorities—but today was no ordinary day. It was St. Patrick’s Day and all 1200 citizens of Big Sky, Montana had descended for the annual Parade. Under a cloudless blue sky, downtown throbbed in a sea of green as the excited chatter of tourists and residents filled the warm spring air. She surfed through the crowd, dodging the peddlers selling cotton candy and caramel apples, and tried to make her way to the bandstand. Nonny floated alongside Shawnessy. His white hair plaited into two braids, he jerked and quivered as he bobbed up and down in excitement. He turned his sharp gaze in Shawnessy’s direction. Look at all these families and couples—how this land has grown since the days of my ancestors. The world cycles and changes, the tides ebb and flow—even the great waters started from small streams. She sighed and said, “Speak English, not Cryptic, Grandfather.” Though she knew exactly what he was talking about. He grinned. You will never know the great love of a man like Vaughn until you take the tiny step of asking him out. “This is neither the time nor place,” she hissed, then smiled at a small girl staring at her. “I’m practicing my speech for the parade,” she told the toddler. The child’s face scrunched, a sure sign she wasn’t buying Shawnessy’s excuse, but it sounded a lot better than, “Hey, I’m talking to the spirit of my 1
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dead grandfather.” Vaughn’s mad for you. “Maybe, but you’re just making me mad, in general.” Shawnessy swallowed her irritation but she couldn’t repress her frustration. Their ongoing argument was a year in the debating and she wished Nonny would move on—to heaven or to another topic, she wasn’t particular. “I’m perfectly content by myself. I have a busy practice, lots of leisure activities. A rich and full life is what I lead.” She kept her voice low, quiet, so no one would overhear and leap to the conclusion the town vet was losing her mind and talking to herself. Your dreams say different. She crashed to a stop. “You really have to stop stumbling into my dreams.” He shrugged. The beaded vest he’d been buried in defied the laws of physics by rattling quietly in the soft wind. It’s not on purpose, being dead takes practice. Not sinking through the floor takes enormous concentration. His lips twitched. I think you inherited your imagination from your grandmother. She, too, displayed an amazing flexibility. Do you know she could wrap her leg behind her— “Oh God, stop!” Embarrassment burned her cheeks and made her voice rise. “You invaded my ballroom dancing dream?” Her tone throbbed with indignation and caught the attention of two men standing beside her. She forced a laugh. “Practicing for the Spring play—rehearsing my lines.” She moved away from them and shot a dark look at her grandfather. “That was a fantasy—a private daydream—and you weren’t supposed to be there!” His eyes twinkled and a devilish smile lit his lined face. If you think it’s so easy straddling the line between the living and the dead, you try it. Last night I ended up in Lydia Coltron’s recurring dream 2
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of being eaten by her fridge. She wanted to be scandalized by him, but snorted instead, unable to help laughing. He laid his hand on her shoulder. Shawnessy, the need to be with another is as timeless and natural as the universe. Even the oceans flow to the welcoming shores of the beaches. Vaughn is a good man and worth the risk of rejection. You must conquer this fear or you’ll never become the person you hope to be. She increased her pace. Her boots tapped a quick rhythm against the pavement, but she couldn’t outrun her insecurities—or Nonny. “I wish I was brave enough to take the chance, but I’m not. Not yet.” She turned a beseeching gaze to her grandfather. “Let’s just leave it alone.” “Ladies and gentlemen.” The nasal voice of Big Sky’s mayor, Willy Sokum, boomed over the loudspeaker and interrupted their discussion. “The St. Patrick’s Day parade is about to start in ten minutes. Would all leprechauns make their way to the queue? Shawnessy Paxton, please get to the start of the line.” The crowd surged and pulsed, green waves in a leprechaun ocean. She glanced at her grandfather, silently asking his understanding for her cowardice, then turned away and followed the parade-goers. “Shawnessy!” She skidded to a stop as the familiar bass voice of Vaughn Heistheone made her skin goose-pimple with excitement and her heart race. He seemed to materialize in front of her, six-feet five inches of glorious masculinity. Her breath left her body in an excited whoosh. “What are you doing here?” Her voice hitched as the proverbial butterflies invaded her stomach and started dancing. “I thought you were in New York on business.” 3
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“I was, but I managed to tidy everything up sooner than anticipated.” His smile crinkled the edges around his eyes and made his teeth gleam against the wind burnt tan of his skin. “Oh,” she said, and silently cursed her splurge purchase of a push-up bra. Though the saleswoman had claimed it would do wonders for her modest breasts and leave men panting at her feet, Vaughn seemed to have no trouble keeping his eyes on her face. Nonny poked her in the side. Ask him out! Despite his ethereal form, the sharp jab of her grandfather’s bony elbow met painfully with Shawnessy’s ribs. She winced and rubbed the sore spot as subtly as she could. “How was your trip? Did you sell your company?” She ignored Nonny’s pantomimes, his exaggerated mouthing of ask him out! Her grandfather rolled his eyes. Then he dusted his hands against his suede pants, and shoved her into Vaughn. She smashed into his body, her forehead and nose crashing into his hard chest. The rough fabric of his wool sweater grazed her skin. “Are you okay?” he asked, holding her close. The scent of him was rich and spicy, and made her feel weightless and heavy all at the same time. His dark eyes warmed her; his smile heated her libido to molten temperatures. “I’m fine—I…slipped—” She winced. She’d been standing still, what could she possibly have slipped on? His forehead crinkled, then cleared as he let her go. “As long as you’re okay.” Take the chance for love. Gather your courage— you’ll never make those sexy dreams of yours come true if you don’t ask him out! A raging torrent heat flooded her cheeks. Shawnessy did her best to ignore Nonny, but the 4
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sight of her grandfather doing some kind of cheerleading dance torpedoed any intelligent thought. Besides, while the rest of the world may not see him, for all intents and purposes, he was right beside Shawnessy and yelling in her ears. She glanced to Vaughn, saw the expectant expression on his face, and realized she’d totally missed his conversation. “I’m sorry, the crowd is so loud. I can hardly hear you.” What a lame excuse. After all, she was standing right in front of him, close enough to see the gold flecks in his eyes and feel his warmth. She mentally bid goodbye to her hope that a strong fifty-sixth impression could undo a dismal first. “I was saying that I liked your outfit. You make a great leprechaun.” Damn it! Had she missed a lecherous glance? “Technically,” she said, “there were no female leprechauns. How they propagated —” Shawnessy, stop talking about love making—go out and do it! Ask him out! Through the myriad of voices—Vaughn’s, Nonny’s, and her own internal cacophony of fear and hope—there remained one she could follow: Mayor Sokum’s, bidding her to get to the start of the parade. She wanted—desperately—to listen to Nonny and to herself, to take the chance, put what her heart felt into words and lay her emotions bare. But terror gripped her in its bony grasp, squeezing the breath out of her with visions of rejection and ridicule. “I should get to the start of the parade,” she said to Vaughn. “What’s the use of being the marshal if I don’t make good on my part? Will I see you afterwards?” He smiled, that knee-buckling-make-hercollapse-on-the-floor smile that turned her body to mush. Vaughn reached out, slid his finger along her 5
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jaw. “I’ll be waiting right here.” Her body exploded in a shower of fireworks and electricity. She gulped and nodded. It was all she could do because she was terrified if she opened her mouth, her heart would jump out and lay itself prostrate at his feet. She urged her body to move, but it remained immobile as her heart and mind pounded with one message: Take the chance! Grabbing her courage with shaking fingers, her breath and hopes exploding in one adrenalinepumping exhalation, she blurted, “Vaughn, doyouwantogooutforcoffeeonenight?” He blinked. “Sorry, what?” She swallowed, hoped her slamming heart wouldn’t implode, and tried again. “Do you want to go out for coffee?” His hands slipped into the pockets of his jeans, his brow furrowed. He shrugged. “I’m not sure.” Rejection, machete sharp, sliced her heart. “Oh, sure, no problem. We’re just friends and—” “Would it just be us?” His question stopped her decent into humiliation with a sharp jerk. She frowned. “What do you mean?” “Would it just be you and me, or would your grandfather come along?” “It would just be us, my grand—” Her words slammed to a halt as the implications of his words hit. “What?” she squeaked. Vaughn nodded towards Nonny. He grinned. “I like him, a lot,” he said. “Nonny, you remind me of my grandfather, but I’d rather my first date with Shawnessy be a solitary event.” Nonny clapped his hands together and did a little jig. He’s a keeper! Smart, kind and psychic. Shawnessy, you did great! She glared at her grandfather. Then she turned back to Vaughn. “You can see him?” If her voice 6
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climbed any more octaves, pretty soon only the dogs would be able to hear. “Yes.” Her brain, frozen solid until now, jerked painfully and began to function. “Then you’ve known for the entire year I’m in love with you?” Disbelief gave way to indignation. “The whole time and you never said a word?” Vaughn held his hands up in surrender. “I wanted to,” he said, “but it seemed too important to Nonny that you take the initiative—I thought it best to wait.” He ran his hand through his blond hair, a boyish gesture that tugged at her heart and obliterated her ire. “I’m really glad you took the chance, today.” Vaughn wrapped his arms around her, cocooning her securely in a sensual hug. “But I would have waited as long as you needed. I’ve wanted to be with you from the first moment I saw you,” he said, his grip strong, firm. She rolled her eyes. “No, really,” he insisted. “The first time I saw you, you were chasing Missy Lee through the pasture, trying to give her the inoculations. You tackled her and both of you went down into the mud. When I got there, you were covered in muck and manure. But you were laughing and petting her, calming her down and telling her what a good calf she was. You were gentle, and loving.” A soft, sensual light glowed in his eyes. “In that moment, I knew you were the woman for me.” He bent his head. His lips touched hers in a gentle invitation. She pressed her mouth against his, relishing the feel of him against her, delighting in the ecstasy of risking it all for love, and coming out victorious. His kiss was like warm chocolate, rich, seductive, and better than any of her daydreams. Vaughn pulled away. “We should probably get you to the start of the 7
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parade start, huh?” She smiled. “Probably, but I’d rather stay here with you.” He grinned and stroked her cheeks with the tips of his fingers. “So,” he asked, as they stepped off the curb, “exactly what happens in that sexy dream of yours?”
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