Page 3 of Just My Luck

She flipped the pancake she was cooking.

“Are pancakes the only thing you know how to make?” I joked. She glared at me over her shoulder then gave me the bird, making me chuckle.

“You can always eat a meal with Lucky,” she warned.

I held up both middle fingers, in her direction. She thought she was a comedian because Lucky was the name of her damn pug.

“I’m not eating damn dog food,” I growled, sitting back down. She turned to face the stove, but I caught the shit-eating grin that crossed her face.

“What if I add some green food coloring and make it festive?” she teased.

“You’re a pain. You know that?” I laughed.

“Just trying to keep your favorite holiday alive,” she mused.

The sound of footsteps gained Genevieve and my attention. We turned our heads in the direction of the staircase. A few seconds later, Calleb, her husband, appeared.

“You look like shit, man.” I couldn’t resist picking on him.

He still wore his clothes from the night prior. His thick fro wasn’t neatly groomed how he usually kept it. It was flat on one side and poofy on the other side. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Someone thought they could hang out with the younger kids from work,” Genevieve huffed then turned toward the stove. “Serves his ass right.”

“Babe, you’re still mad?” Calleb walked into the room and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the side of her head. “I love you, my beautiful, ever-forgiving wife.”

“Kiss ass,” I chuckled. He flipped me off and continued sucking up to my sister.

“So beautiful,” he continued. “I will stay in tonight and make your favorite dinner, along with running you a bubble bath and a foot massage.”

“Really?” she said excitedly, turning in his arms and smiling up at him. They stared at each other tenderly, making me both jealous and nauseous.

Genevieve and Calleb were high school sweethearts. They met their sophomore year and are still together fifteen years later. They are the epitome of the perfect relationship and happily ever after.

“Get a room already,” I sighed dramatically. They looked back at me. Calleb grinned cockily. Genevieve stuck her tongue out at me then kissed Calleb.

The smell of burnt pancakes had me sitting back in my seat, crossing my arms in front of my chest, and grinning.

“You’re burning the pancakes, dear sister,” I pointed at the stove.

“Fuck!” Genevieve shrieked, pulling free of Calleb’s hold and turning her attention to her victim– the pancake.

That one was definitely going to be hers. Or Lucky’s.

CHAPTER THREE

ELAINA

The wind whipped around me as I stood outside the pub. I had been pacing back and forth in front of the brick building for well over ten minutes. Each time I gathered the strength to go inside, guilt filled me. I just couldn’t bear celebratingtheholiday that took everything from me.

“What’s a lovely lass like ye’ doin’ outside?” a man said behind me in an Irish accent. I turned and faced him despite being unsure if he was actually talking to me.

Standing there was an older, chubby man. He was dressed in a green plaid kilt, a white-collar shirt, white knee-high socks, and black leather shoes. He had red hair and a matching burly beard.

“Me?” I asked, pointing at myself.

He chuckled softly and nodded.

“Aye,” he smiled.

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