He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not: The Flower Shop Sisters

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not: The Flower Shop Sisters

By:  IRIS MORLAND   Ongoing
Language: English
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"I’m a good girl—until I got drunk in Vegas and married a panties-flaming-hot Irishman. Oops. I’ve always lived my life by the rules. Unlike my two sisters, I’m the good one. The responsible one. Going outside my comfort zone is when I wear red lipstick before five PM. That comfort zone of mine? It’s smashed to smithereens on a wild night in Las Vegas when I met—and married—Liam Gallagher. After one shot of tequila, then two, then too many to count, a good girl’s rules tend to disappear. And so do her panties, and her bra, and various other articles of clothing when she’s with an Irishman who knows his way around a woman’s body. Now my husband wants us to stay married. For six months. He says it’ll be worth my while. Considering our chemistry underneath the sheets, I can’t say that he’s wrong. Liam isn’t safe, though. Liam definitely isn’t comfortable. He’s like the male equivalent of wearing red lipstick in the daytime all wrapped up in an irresistible, dangerous package. Yet this stubborn Irishman isn’t about to let me go, drunken Princess Bride-themed Vegas wedding or no. Now I have to decide if I’m brave enough to break the rules for love."

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28 Chapters
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not (The Flower Shop Sisters Book 2)Published by Blue Violet Press LLCSeattle, WashingtonCopyright © 2019 by Iris MorlandCover design by Qamber DesignsAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Chapter 1
The moment I woke up after my best friend’s raucous bachelorette party in Las Vegas, I realized two things in quick succession:To my horror, the man had his arm slung across me, and it weighed at least a thousand pounds, I was sure. My bladder yelled profanities at me as I pushed at the ridiculously heavy arm trapping me against the bed.Finally, he turned over, taking his arm with him. I shuffled to the bathroom and didn’t feel the panic hit me until after I’d peed and saw the ring on my left hand.Ring. Left hand. I didn’t wear a ring there anymore since I’d caught my ex-fiancé cheating on me. I’d thrown the ring David had bought me in his face.This ring wasn’t that diamond David had gotten me. I peered more closely at it. It was—plastic? Was it from a ring pop?Did I call the police? No, that was stupid. 911, I got married last night to a stranger. Yeah, that’d go over well. I was sure the Vegas police would just laugh and tell us to get a lawyer.I heard movement in the roo
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Chapter 2
Two days earlier…I cocked my head, squinting at the ice sculpture that sat in the middle of the expansive table.“Is that an ice penis?” I said.Laura, one of Jenna’s bridesmaids, moved more closely to the statue. It was so dim in the private room at the restaurant that neither of us could tell if the statue was actually endowed or not.“I think so, but it’s pretty small. It could also just be its balls,” said Laura.“Why would they sculpt a pair of balls but no penis?”Laura shrugged. “It’s Vegas. Don’t ask questions.” She flashed a smile. “If it has a dick, it’s currently melting off.”“Too bad that can’t happen to men in real life,” I muttered.Laura shot me a look, but soon we were overtaken by the rest of the wedding party. Jenna and Sam hadn’t skimped one bit on this wedding: each had ten attendants, and apparently there were close to three hundred guests.Sam’s family came from money—something to do with creating the first mechanical litter box—and this was the most ex
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Chapter 3
I hadn’t planned to sleep with any women at Sam’s wedding. Bridesmaids weren’t my kink. They usually had their minds on marriage and had a bit of a chip on their shoulder because of the whole always a bridesmaid, never a bride bullshite.The last time I’d fucked a bridesmaid she’d got drunk afterward and had cried over how her eight-year relationship with her boyfriend had ended and she’d die an old maid.Nah, that wasn’t my speed. Besides, it was the twenty-first century. Who gave a shite if they were married or not? You didn’t need to put a ring on someone’s finger to get awesome, sweaty sex with a willing partner.I hadn’t had awesome, sweaty sex in… I winced inwardly as I began to swim the next lap in the hotel pool. Way too fucking long. Three months, if I were being honest. My photography business had blown up. Which was great for my bank account, but not great for picking up chicks.Right now I lived in Seattle, but I was dying to get the hell out of Dodge. I’d lived in so m
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Chapter 4
When the exotic dancer Laura had hired began to give me a lap dance, I almost fell backward out of my seat. My fellow bridesmaids hooted and hollered like a bunch of men at a cheap strip joint. I’d neglected to bring any dollar bills, but Jenna had handed me a stack with a wide grin before the party had started.“Yeah, get up on her!” yelled Reagan. She was the youngest of the bridesmaids, and she always seemed to have a flask of booze on hand at every occasion. Breakfast: vodka in her coffee; lunch, gin in her Coke; dinner, straight rum. Yet she always seemed perfectly sober. I didn’t know whether to be concerned or impressed.“Shake it!” Jenna screamed as the exotic dancer shimmied and turned to give me a view of his bare ass covered only by a gold G-string. It was so perfectly smooth I was tempted to ask him how he’d done it. Wax? Sugaring? Laser? It was like he’d never had a single hair on his butt ever.The dancer turned around, smiling widely, his crotch dangerously close to m
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Chapter 5
Present dayOn the list of things I thought I’d never do, walking down the aisle arm-in-arm with my secret husband at my best friend’s wedding was not one of them.“You’re walking too fast,” I hissed at Liam.“Why are you going so slowly?” he snapped back.I wanted to lob him over the head with my bouquet, but I couldn’t imagine Jenna and Sam would appreciate a brawl in the middle of their ceremony. I put on a tight smile as Liam and I approached the front of the chapel.Jenna and Sam had chosen one of those chapels that looks like it was built in the Middle Ages, with vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows, and an actual altar at the front. Since this was Las Vegas, it was actually built only twenty years ago. Behind the chapel was a reception room that boasted everything from a huge parquet dance floor to a stripper pole in the corner, along with plenty of dark corners to drunkenly make out with however many wedding guests you wanted.After I’d rushed out of my hotel room this
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Chapter 6
My new wife was avoiding me.I watched her dance during the reception, her green dress tight against her curves. One of the groomsmen—Kevin? Keith?—had his hands dangerously close to her arse. One more inch and he’d have a nice handful.Mari, to her credit, somehow managed to wiggle out of his grip to move his hands to a more appropriate place on her back without missing a beat. It was only her smile faltering that showed she was annoyed.I’d got good at reading my wife in the last two days.My wife. My bloody fucking wife.Me, the guy who hated the idea of marriage. I was a bitter old man in a young man’s body when it came to shite like this. Yet I’d skipped to the altar like a starry-eyed girl the second I got rat-arsed and horny for a gorgeous redhead.It’ll make me feel better, she’d said, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy. It’ll make David so mad. And it’d be fun. Don’t you like to have fun?I liked to have fun. Fun that didn’t involve signing my life away to a woman in o
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Chapter 7
My eyes glazed over when I ended up reading the same line in this wastewater management manual for the third time. Rubbing my temples, I glanced at the clock on the wall across from my desk.11:45. I still had five more hours of work. A workday had never moved so glacially as today.I didn’t hate my job. As a technical writer at a large engineering firm, I received a good salary and benefits. I had regular hours. I could take vacations; I had sick leave. We could even invest in the company’s stock options, if we felt so inclined.I’d been fortunate enough to get this job right out of college. I’d been told how lucky I was, given the economy and that I had little work experience. Be grateful you found full-time work right away.I’d seen my friends and peers struggle to find jobs while I started making a cool fifty thousand a year. Not a fortune, but enough to support myself.“Mari, have you finished editing that manual?” said my boss, Leslie, as she stopped by my cubicle.“Not yet
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Chapter 8
A week after I’d got back to Seattle, I had dinner with Niamh at our favorite sushi place in Capitol Hill. Niamh had just bought herself a car after working all summer at our uncle Henry’s auto shop, and she showed the car to me like it was her new kid.“Isn’t she a beauty?” Niamh brushed a hand down the side of her Volkswagen that had to be three times older than she was. “The second I saw her, I knew she’d be mine.”“Did you help fix her up?”“Duh. Put in a new transmission, brakes, everything. I wouldn’t let anyone touch her, except for when Uncle Henry got mad at me for messing with the engine. He said I didn’t know what I was doing and could’ve gotten hurt.”I wished Niamh were less like me, but Christ Almighty she was just as stubborn and impulsive. As a toddler, I had to buy a leash to keep her from running into traffic. I’d got a reputation in town for being the teenager who took his sister out for walks like a dog.As the years passed, Niamh hadn’t lost that willfulness.
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Chapter 9
I have a proposition for you,” said Liam without preamble.When Liam had texted me a week after we’d returned from Las Vegas to ask that we meet in a neutral place, I hadn’t hesitated.Now I wondered why I hadn’t hesitated. Apparently him giving me an amazing orgasm had fried my brain and made me forget he was a giant jerk-wad.“A proposition,” I repeated. “Why do I not want to know what that means?”His grin was too easy, his body language almost languid. Like he knew I’d agree before I’d said the magic yes word. It was annoying.We’d decided to meet in a neutral place, a coffee shop in Ballard that currently had an array of customers, including a man with a blue macaw on his shoulder. No one batted an eye at the bird even when it squawked random words at other customers. Beans! Coffee! Llamas!Last week in Ballard, I’d seen a guy wearing a cat in a front pack so random pets were pretty normal around here.“I don’t need people knowing we got married when we were drunk in Vegas,
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