Bree

Emer’s definition of a girls’ night consisted of the three of us sprawled out on Owen’s king-sized bed talking about marriage, pregnancy, and babies. Not that I had a lot to contribute to the conversation. My knowledge of all three is limited, not to mention jaded.

But I couldn’t help but catch the bug of excitement for both of them, even though I doubt I’d ever experience such things myself.

After spending an entire evening with Emer and Delaney, I’ve come to the conclusion that they are genuinely both lovely, and that between the two of them, they never stop talking. Even in the elevator, on our way to breakfast, they chattered away, always trying to include me in their conversations.

But I’ve always been quiet, one to keep my thoughts to myself. Still, I enjoy listening to them, learning more about the men and all their little quirks.

All four of the guys, as well as Agnus, are already waiting for us in the restaurant. Owen’s hard, brooding gaze watches me as I sit down, never wavering as the others start to talk and interact, unaware of the silent conversation going on between the two of us.

I’m not done with you, his eyes say.

You’re going to break me.

I’m going to fuck you, his smirk says.

And then break me.

“What about ye, Bree?” Agnus asks as she stirs milk into her tea.

I glance over at her and lift my brows, not knowing what the question was.

“Anyone special back home?”

I risk a glance at Owen, but his attention is diverted now, his stormy eyes brooding, mouth drawn into a tight line as he listens to something Cillian is saying.

Black hair brushes over his forehead as he tilts his head to the side in a silent answer to Cillian’s question. He roughs a hand over the dark scruff on his jaw, his muscles tensing and bunching under his fitted t-shirt.

God, he’s gorgeous.

As if he feels my gaze, he glances back, and my insides melt at the heat that burns in his eyes.

“No.” I look back at Agnus, hoping the heat that warms my cheeks isn’t too noticeable.

“Ye’ll find the right one when the time is right.” Emer says, giving me a look that isn’t as subtle as I’m sure she thinks it is.

I shrug. “People always say that, but how many don’t find the right one? Or, they think they do and end up in a loveless marriage…or worse.”

It’s probably the most I’ve opened up since being here, and I realize that all eyes are on me, including Owen’s.

He frowns at me, but I have no idea what he’s thinking. Because, for the life of me, I can’t figure the man out. The only thing he’s said to me all morning was a quick growl in my ear that we still needed to talk.

But the hardness in his gaze now has me on the edge of my seat, my nerves twisting in my stomach.

“Not everyone’s made for marriage,” I say, my words directed at Owen, but knowing they hold just as true for myself.

“Amen to that,” Shane says with a laugh, lifting his coffee cup towards me and winking.

Agnus clucks her tongue. “Surely, ye want to have a family one day?”

“Ma, leave her alone,” Emer says. “Not everyone wants the same things.”

“I know that.” Agnus frowns. “I raised yer brother, didn’t I?”

Shane chuckles. “Nothing wrong with bachelorhood.”

“And nothing wrong with finding the love of yer life when ye’re sixteen years old,” Emer says, placing her hand on Aiden’s, her smile brightening her whole face.

Shane grunts and gives a look like he’d rather be speared in the eyes with a fork than ever settle for what Emer and Aiden have.

That’s where we’re different. It’s not that I don’t believe in family, or in finding the one. I just know not everyone is that lucky. Watching my mother go through a revolving door of men and hostile relationships, I can say with certainty that there are very few Prince Charmings out there.

“I’m not saying I don’t envy what you have,” I say, glancing back at Emer. “I’m just a realist. I don’t believe in fate or soulmates.”

“That’s not what ye told me when we were little,” Emer says with a twinkle in her eye. “It was ye who convinced me to take a chance on Aiden.”

“I didn’t know that,” Aiden says beside her.

“She gave me yer note. The one with the lyrics on it.”

My blood goes cold.

Aiden chuckles. “I write music, sweetheart. Not poetry. Maybe ye had another secret admirer.” He cups her chin when she frowns. “If ye want me to write ye pretty words, I’d be happy to try. But that’s always been Cillian and Owen’s specialty.”

“Wasn’t me,” Cillian says, putting his hands up and shaking his head, the look on his face pure horror at the thought.

There’s a clatter at the other end of the table when Owen drops his utensils on his plate and pushes his chair back.

No one says a word as we watch him storm out of the restaurant.

A tension-filled silence stretches between us, before Shane finally breaks it. “Can someone tell me what the hell just happened?”

Looks pass between the men, before their attention turns to me.

Shit.

Emer is frowning when she says, “Ye told me Aiden wrote the note.”

“I…” Shifting under their stares, I wince. “I wanted you to think he did.”

“Bree?” Emer asks.

“I was twelve and stupid, and…”

“In love,” Emer says, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Infatuated,” I correct her. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait.” Shane sits up, his eyes widening when he finally understands. “Ye’re saying Owen used to crush on ye? Did ye know that?”

Emer shakes her head, while Aiden continues to frown.

“I should go talk to him,” Aiden says.

“No.” Agnus pats her son-in-law’s arm before standing. “Let me.”

“That was awkward,” Shane says, when his mother leaves.

“Which is exactly why Owen never wanted anyone to know,” Aiden says, still frowning.

“Ye knew?” Emer asks.

He shrugs. “I had my suspicions when we were younger.”

“I’m really sorry,” I say again.

Emer places her hand on Aiden’s and squeezes it. “It might be wrong to say, but ye did me a favor. I’d been half in love with this buffoon since before I could ride a bike. Ye only gave me the courage to let him know.”

Maybe. But I doubt Owen will see it that way.