Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
I followed her upstairs, where Ronan’s brother waited. It was the man from that fateful day who had been with Ronan. The one who wore the leather jacket. He looked bigger than I remembered, which, as Paige said, was enormous. His broad shoulders filled the hallway, but his expression was calm and his eyes gentle. His mouth was curved into a smile as I approached.
“Hi,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m Beth.”
He enclosed it in his grip, shaking it. “Hi, Beth. I’m Liam. Ronan’s other brother.” He winked, looking directly at Paige. “The non-triplet one.”
I heard her squeak, and I tried not to laugh. There was no doubt he had heard everything she said. His eyes danced, and the smile that broke through was the equivalent of a thousand-watt bulb.
“Considering I’m a landscape architect, the tree reference was particularly pleasing.” His gaze never left her face. “Climbing can be arranged. I’ll make sure Beth has my cell number.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Paige’s face was flushed, her eyes locked on Liam.
“Okay, then,” she responded. “I’ll, ah, I’ll be leaving now.”
She turned and hurried away.
Looking back, I caught him ogling her ass, and I lifted one eyebrow in a silent question.
“Single, right?” he said quietly.
“Yes.” I paused. “With a daughter.”
“Lucy,” he confirmed. “Ronan thinks she’s adorable.”
“She is.”
“I’ll give you my number in the car.”
“Okay, then.”
“Now—” he grinned “—let’s get you to my idiot brother. He has no idea his miserable little existence is about to take an upswing.”
“I only agreed to talk to him.”
He leaned close, mischief once again dancing in his eyes. “I’ve got a good feeling. And, Beth? I am never wrong.”
* * *
Ronan
My feet pounded on the sand, and the only sound aside from my heavy breathing was the water lapping at the shore. I headed toward the trail in the woods, the heavy overhang of the trees casting shadows, the change in temperature immediately cooling my overheated skin. I stopped by an overturned trunk, stretched, then sat down. I grabbed the water bottle from my waistband clip and drank deeply. All around me were the signs of new growth, signaling that summer was fast approaching. The trees were budding, new shoots of green peeking up through the forest floor.
I had seen Liam yesterday, walking around the complex. No doubt he was planning, mentally calculating what spots needed filling, already mapping out what bloomed when and how the gardens would all look once he was done. Every year, he added and changed, thinned out and replanted. He had flowers and plants blooming from early spring until late fall. We all helped with the maintenance, and all the women had their preferences for their own private gardens by their houses, and Liam made sure each one was met. He loved working in the dirt and spent many hours bent over the neatly laid-out landscapes. His own garden was filled with fruit trees, and there was a large vegetable patch we all took care of and had access to.
I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I had promised him I would help work on turning over the dirt in the vegetable garden later this afternoon. It would keep me busy—at least, my hands and body. My mind, however, seemed stuck in the same place, no matter how hard I tried to move forward.
I was still standing on that street, watching the hurt fill Beth’s eyes. Desperate to erase it. Frozen as she walked away, refusing to listen.
Not that I blamed her.
Selfishly, I had tried playing a game, not thinking of the consequences, and I had lost. I had made her feel as if I were keeping her hidden, as if I were ashamed of her, when in fact, it was myself I was ashamed of. My actions caused her pain. I had hoped if I gave her space, she would cool down and at least let me talk to her. But my phone remained silent, and there was no attempt to reach out.
And the chickenshit I was, I never reached out to her.
I hung my head, a long exhale of air leaving my mouth. I could recall, with finite detail, the look on her face when she saw me with my father and brothers in the hall. The way the color drained from her face. How her dark eyes widened, the pain and insecurity filling them as she stared at me. The conclusions her mind made. As soon as the elevator doors closed, I ignored the shocked, curious stares of my family and headed to the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. I caught up to her on the street, my long legs easily closing the distance as soon as I spotted her.
The agony in her eyes, the emotion in her voice, destroyed me. She was distraught, unable to process the depth of what she had discovered. What I had hidden from her. She refused to listen, thinking the very worst of me. Thinking she had meant nothing, when in fact, she had meant more than I had even realized.