Page 1 of Irish

CHAPTER 1

MAKENZIE

Makenzie's fingers danced nervously over the delicate lace of her gown, the fabric whispering against her skin as she stood rooted in the small room at the back of the old church.

Cold feet. That’s all. Cold feet.

The feeling of dread rock hard in her stomach was cold feet. She swallowed down the panic that kept pushing up from her chest. Cold feet. Her mother told her cold feet was normal, necessary even. Normal. Nothing was normal about her wedding. Where were the butterflies? The excitement? The joy? Instead, all she felt was impending doom. Her life was about to become everything her mother wanted for her. She was marrying a nice, quiet man, and they would buy a starter house together. Their careers were steady, reliable. They’d raise children in this church…

The Catholic church where she’d been baptized as a baby, had her first confession, and took first communion. The church where she was confirmed in front of her large family as her parents beamed with joy from the hard wooden pews. The priest marrying her today was the same man she’d confessed her most evil sins to. Her depravity. Her wicked thoughts.

While her mother assumed she was pure as snow, Makenzie knew better. Yes, she was a virgin, but her mind was dirty. Dirty as fuck. Her fantasies were anything but pure.

And, after confessing them, the same priest assigned her penances. She recited more Hail Marys than she’d like to admit for her secret online relationship with a man she’d met on a BDSM website. When the relationship ended in an inferno of drama and pain, she felt like she’d been punished for her sins and ran away from the lifestyle all together.

Sean, her oldest brother, stood in front of her, moving like a caged animal. His footsteps were echoing too loudly on the worn wooden floor as he paced the room. She asked to see him. He was the only person she trusted to not judge her. She knew any advice he’d give would be in her best interest, and hers alone. He halted abruptly, turning to face her with eyes that held oceans of concern.

“Kenzie, are you sure about this? Eugene's... He's a decent guy, but is he your prince charming? Is he the man you want to wake up next to for the rest of your life? You know how our family feels about divorce…”

Divorce.

It wasn’t an option in their family. Once you made your vows, you honored them. Come what may. It was the wrong answer, in Makenzie’s opinion; it was better to divorce than spend decades miserable. But, for hundreds of years, the Sullivan family refrained from divorcing. She knew if she stood before Eugene and promiseduntil death do us part, she would be chained to him for all of eternity.

“Makenzie Beatrice Sullivan, look at me.” The order spoken sharply by her big brother caught her by surprise. She lifted her head and looked into his worried face. “Are you sure?”

The question cracked the façade Makenzie had meticulously built for everyone else. The truth bubbled up, raw and unbidden.“No,” she whispered, the word shattering the silence between them. “I can't marry him, Sean. It wouldn’t be fair to him or to me. I–I can’t.”

“Talk to me, Kenzie.” Sean's brows furrowed.

Her breath hitched as she gazed into her brother's eyes. “Eugene is a good man. He's respectful and kind. He’s never done more than kiss me chastely. He’s everything Ma wants for me. He has a great job, he’s dependable. He never raises his voice or gets angry—but there’s something missing. There’s no chemistry. I know Ma said we don’t need chemistry to form a good union. I just always thought there’d be more. Sean, I don’t feel anything when I look at him. No sparks. No butterflies. Nothing. He infuriates me with his inability to ever make a decision. He’s sensitive, which a lot of women look for but…” Makenzie's voice quavered, the dam within her breaking. “I'm just...trying to be Da’s perfect little princess and the woman Ma expects from me, but it's all wrong. I'm not... I need…” She choked on her words, a deluge of tears spilling over, streaking her expensive and methodically applied makeup.

“Hey, hey, no tears, little sis,” Sean said softly, reaching out to steady her trembling shoulders.

“Ma and Da…” Makenzie gasped between sobs.

“They've always had these dreams for me—white dress, perfect husband, the entire fairy tale. But Eugene isn't my fairy tale, Sean. He's not the one who'll storm the castle or fight off the villains. He doesn't even know who I really am. If I marry him, I’ll be miserable. The thought of disappointing our parents, of wasting their money. All of our family is out there. I know what I should do but?—”

“Shh, it's okay, Kenzie,” Sean soothed, pulling her into his embrace. “You don't have to walk down that aisle. Not for them, not for anyone. Never settle. Don't marry someone just because you feel like it's what’s expected from you," Sean said,while holding Makenzie and letting the weight of expectation of performing the dutiful daughter role crumble away.

Her spirit, usually so bright, felt dimmed by the mask she’d been wearing ever since breaking up with her online Dominant and, turning away from the lifestyle she craved to act the part demanded of her. Longing for a different type of relationship—a darker, more honest narrative—ached within her. She wept, relinquishing the control she had clung to for so long, placing trust in her brother that he wouldn’t judge her but help her find a way out of this mess.

After a moment, Sean stepped back from her. “I have a way out for you. Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” What choice did she have? Marrying a man she didn’t love or trusting her brother. The age difference between them had Sean performing almost a paternal role over her when she’d reached high school and college. While she didn’t always like his advice, sometimes not wanting to hear it at all, he’d never steered her wrong.

Sean pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket. “Irish,” he said into the phone and Makenzie visibly startled at the word. He hit the speaker button before continuing. “You’re on speaker. Makenzie and I are both here.”

Irish.

Sean’s best friend.

The first boy she ever crushed on.

Sean and Seamus were inseparable growing up. Makenzie had stood on the sidelines, cheering Sean on during football and wrestling seasons, but secretly, her eyes never left Seamus. When Seamus started wrestling, he’d been given the name Irish, and it stuck. They’d all attended Holy Comforter Catholic Academy, a prestigious private school, whose mascot was a leprechaun. Their school colors were gold and emerald, green. With his red hair, green singlet and a name like Seamus PatrickMurphy, it came to no surprise when his teammates nicknamed him Irish. Makenzie closed her eyes and thought of the last time she’d seen him, trying to conjure up his image. He’d come home for holidays with his family, but when was the last time she’d seen him? It’d been years. And Irish was dead set against social media so his online presence was limited. Navy SEALs didn’t like photographs of them floating around the world wide web, Sean told her once.

“Hey, brother. What’s going on?”

“Makenzie is in trouble. Can you take her in for a little bit while I smooth things over here?”

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