Bree

I curse Owen under my breath as I struggle with the keycard to get into my hotel room. Just when I finally hear the click, and see the small green light on the door, I hear my name behind me. I don’t need to turn around to know that it’s Emer.

Damn it.

It would be easy to scoot inside the room, shut her and all my problems out. And for a second, I consider it.

I glance over my shoulder, while still keeping my hand on the slightly opened door.

She frowns when she looks at me, and I can only imagine what she sees. Red eyes, blotchy skin, a mess of emotions that I’m trying desperately to keep contained.

“If Cillian told you to check on me-”

“Cillian?” She frowns and shakes her head, her lips pursed. “What did he do now?”

“Nothing. I thought…” I sigh, looking back at the door, not wanting to have this, or any, conversation right now.

“I came to ask ye to join us for dinner tonight-”

“No.” I stop her before she has the chance to finish. “Thank you. You’ve been really sweet and, like I said earlier, it was nice seeing you. But this was a mistake. Coming here. Thinking…”

She tilts her head, studying me. “Thinking what?”

“Nothing.”

“Just as stubborn and guarded as always,” she says with a small shake of her head, despite the affection in her voice when she says it.

My defenses go up. “I’m not-”

She laughs. “See. Ye always had to argue with everything.”

“I don’t,” I mutter, knowing the words only prove her point.

“Do ye remember when ye used to lock yerself in the henhouse because ye didn’t want to go to church? Or when ye ate a whole pumpkin pie by yerself because Cillian bet ye couldn’t?”

I groan. “I was sick for days.”

Silence stretches between us.

“We didn’t forget about ye, if that’s what ye’re thinking.” Emer says gently, giving me a sad smile. “I missed ye. We all did.”

There’s a little girl inside of me that wants to shout at her that if she cared at all she would have written or called. But what would that prove now?

“I missed you, too,” I say softly, wishing the admission changed something. But it doesn’t.

Her smile returns. “So, ye’ll come to dinner?”

She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. And if I hadn’t made a big mess with Owen, maybe everything between Emer and I could be different.

“I made an ass of myself with Owen,” I admit, not sure why I tell her, other than that I don’t want to be the person that Owen accused me of being. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. “I lied to you. I knew you were staying here.”

A sad smile tugs at her lips. “I figured that.”

“You did?” Heat fills my cheeks and I glance down at my hand, still resting on the partly opened door.

“It was a bit of a coincidence that ye’re in the same hotel.”

“I guess it is.”

“I just wish ye would’ve come sooner.” Her hand rests on my forearm, and she squeezes it gently.

I let out a shaky breath. “I figured when you didn’t write or call, that you all forgot about me.”

“Oh, Bree, I wrote ye a hundred letters! But I never got any in return.”

I blink at her. “That’s not possible. I didn’t get them.” Confusion wars inside of me. My mom would never have kept the letters from me; she knew how much I missed my family. And all the letters I wrote to Emer—to Owen—why wouldn’t she have sent them?

I know the answer.

Frank.

It had to have been him who threw them out. The man was controlling, sometimes violent, but I never imagined he was that cruel.

I knew he never liked my Aunt Agnus. He’d rant that she was a nosey busybody who’d be happy if their marriage broke up. He started restricting our calls, saying the long-distance charges were too expensive.

Had he made her throw out the letters?

“All this time, I thought…”

Emer wraps her arms around me, crushing me against her extended belly. When she pulls back, her eyes are glistening with tears.

“Ye’re home now. That’s all that matters. Now, tell me what ye did to get under Owen’s skin.”

I wince, heat creeping into my cheeks as I say, “I...kissed him.”

Her mouth drops open and her brows raise, but then she says with a touch of humor, “Was it that bad?”

“No.” I laugh, despite how rotten I feel. “It was…perfect. But…”

“But what?”

“He didn’t know who I was. I should have told him last night. And now he thinks I deceived him on purpose. Maybe I did. But I didn’t mean to. I didn’t come here for this. Not really…” I’m rambling now, not making any sense. “Now, he has my luggage held hostage in his room.”

Emer starts to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“It makes sense now. Owen’s expression at breakfast, when he figured out who ye were.”

I grumble. “He hates me.”

“No. There’s not an ounce of hate in that man’s body. Unless it’s for himself. But I can imagine his shock.”

“I know I should have told him who I was. But I was afraid…” More heat infuses my cheeks. I can’t believe I’m admitting this. “I wanted one night. That’s all.”

“Just one night?” She raises a brow and gives me a knowing smile.

“It’s his thing.”

“Ah, yes.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ve heard. But ye want more?”

“No. Maybe.” I sigh, and confess, “Of course, I want more. He’s Owen freaking Gallagher.”

She chuckles. “I always knew ye had a crush on him.”

“And he was in love with-” I stop myself before saying her name, and say instead, “His music.”

She shrugs. “They all were, and still are. But music only soothes the soul for so long. If ye want him, then ye should go after him.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I watched my mom love a man who never loved her, and it destroyed her. I won’t make the same mistake.”

“Then Owen will just have to get over himself, because now ye’re definitely coming to dinner.” She chuckles. “And I can’t wait to see him squirm.”

“You’re not going to tell him you know, are you?”

“I’ll keep yer secret. But I can still have my fun.”

“Emer,” I warn.

She laughs again. “Ye’re coming to dinner tonight. And that’s not a request.”

“Even if I wanted to, I don’t have anything to wear. Owen has my luggage.”

“I’ll take care of that.” Her gaze roams down my body, and a smile plays on her lips. “What size of shoes do ye wear?”

“Six and a half.”

She nods, grinning from ear to ear. “You and Delaney are about the same size. I’ll have some clothes sent to yer room.”

“What? No.” My protest is to her back as she walks away. “Emer.”

“Be ready at seven,” she says over her shoulder as she presses the elevator button. “I’ll have Shane come and pick ye up.”

She waves a hand before disappearing, and I groan as I enter my hotel room. But, despite the anxiety of having to see Owen, there’s a lightness inside of me that wasn’t there before. That maybe I was right to come here.

Hope. I haven’t felt it in years, and it takes me a moment to realize what it is. And despite the warning bells that ring inside my head, I let it stay there. I may have messed things up with Owen, but maybe there’s still a chance to be part of the family I left behind.