Bree

Seven hours on a plane, three hours driving a rental car halfway across the country, on the wrong side of the road, and all I can think about is falling into Owen’s arms, and his bed.

I didn’t call.

I should have called.

Because as I pull up to his house, I realize that he might not even be here.

I knock on the door, holding my breath, but just as I feared, no one answers.

“If ye’re looking for Owen, he’s gone.” A pretty redhead approaches from the road, a shaggy Irish wolfhound trailing behind her. Her gaze roams over me, and one eyebrow raises as if in recognition.

A cool chill sends a shiver down my spine from the way she watches me.

“Sorry, do I know you?”

“Molly,” she says, a smirk pulling at her lips. “I’m friends with Owen.”

“Oh.” I know what she’s implying, what she wants me to think. That she’s been with him.

Don’t fall for her games, Bree, my head warns. I know women like her. My mom was one of them.

“Thanks,” I say, starting back to my car.

“Do ye want to know where he is?” There’s a lilt to her voice, as if she’s tempting me, dangling a piece of information like a steak in front of a dog. Something that I know I probably don’t want to hear.

Don’t say yes.

I turn, and nod.

“Heard he’s in France with Mila Blakely. The supermodel,” she adds, her lips twitching up as if she’s enjoying this. “At least, that’s what people are tweeting.” Her shoulders lift and fall, and her smile broadens. “Ye can check for yerself online, but I doubt ye’ll be seeing him back here anytime soon. Not after the way that floozy made a fool of him like that all over the internet.”

I have no doubt that she knows exactly who that floozy is. Me.

Stupid emotions twist in my chest, and I hate that I’ve allowed her to get under my skin.

I don’t even know if she’s telling me the truth. The way she continues to smile as she turns and walks away, back down the road, I doubt it.

But then, all rumors usually hold some sliver of truth.

Is he really off with someone else already?

He wouldn’t. Would he?

Doubt strangles me, twisting in my throat and making it difficult to swallow.

I fidget with my phone, debating whether or not to do a Google search.

Call Emer. I know I should. But embarrassment stops me. Instead, I do what my head screams not to – I turn on my data, type in Owen Gallagher’s name, and hit search.

The video of us at the airport is the top trend, but as I scroll down I see the words that make my stomach roll. Wild Irish’s Owen Gallagher in Paris with ex-girlfriend Mila Blakely after botched proposal.

There are pictures. Fuzzy shots taken from a distance and zoomed in. Unrecognizable faces. But it looks like Owen. Dark hair and scruff, avatar sunglasses hiding his beautiful eyes. Mila’s mouth covering his gorgeous lips.

My heart sinks.

I lean against the car, trying to catch my breath as I scroll through my contacts needing to talk to someone. I shouldn’t call Emer. She just had a baby, not to mention major surgery. She doesn’t need this drama. I don’t even think she’d be back from the hospital yet. And I’m sure Agnus is with her.

I dial the only other person I know here.

“Bree?” Delaney says when she answers.

“Hi.” My voice is shaky. Stupid emotions. “I’m sorry to call you…”

“You sound upset. Are you okay?”

“I was just hoping that offer about staying with you was still open.”

“Of course, it is. When do you plan on coming?”

“Tonight.”

“You’re here.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I’m at Owen’s. But he’s…not here.”

“I know.” There’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “I’ll have Cillian come get you.”

“It’s okay. Owen showed me where you live. I’m going to spend a few minutes down by the lough, and then I’ll come over.”

“You’re sure you’re all right?”

“Not really. But I’m home. So, I will be.” I end the call, then start to walk down the path towards the lough.

When I get to the old oak, I glance up at its twisted, thick branches, my fingers itching to climb. Instead, I sit down with my back against the trunk and close my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I open them again, I’m jolted by my name echoing down the hill, and the sun is low in the sky.

“Bree?” A deep voice calls out behind me, and for a fraction of a second hope soars inside my chest.

Owen.

But when I glance around the tree, it’s Cillian who walks down the hill towards me, frustration drawing his dark brows down.

“What the hell are ye doing down here? Delaney’s worried sick about ye.”

“Sorry.” I stand, my legs trembling from being jolted awake. “I must have dozed off.”

He keeps frowning at me. “Ye came back.”

I nod.

“For how long?”

“I was hoping for good.”

His lips tug up slightly. “Ye came back for Owen.”

“I came back for myself.” Liar.

“So, my brother had nothing to do with yer decision?”

I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. It’s too late. He’s already off with some other girl.”

“Who told ye that?” He frowns.

“It doesn’t matter who. It’s all over the Internet.”

Cillian grunts. “My brother is a moody son of a bitch, but he’s loyal to a fault, and he’d never hurt ye that way.”

“He has no reason to be loyal to me. We’re just-”

“Tell me ye aren’t as empty-headed as I always thought ye to be.”

“You’re definitely just as much of an asshole.” Crossing my arms, I glare up at him.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Do ye want to know where he is?”

“He’s in France with Mila-”

“He’s in Michigan. Looking for ye. And I have a feeling he’s not going to think this is as funny as I do when he finds out ye’re here.”

My mouth drops open, and my heart starts to beat a little more wildly in my chest.

Hope.

“Now, would ye stop yer moping and come back to the house with me?”

It takes my brain a moment to catch up to my heart. But when it does, I can’t help the tears that pool in my eyes.

“Shit,” Cillian mutters. “Can ye save the waterworks for Delaney?”

I chuckle, wiping my cheeks. “Will you do me a favor?”

“What?” Cillian looks at me suspiciously.

“Don’t tell him I’m here.”

It earns me a scowl, but he nods. “Ye better have a damn good reason for keeping it from him.”

“I do,” I say, a plan forming. “But I’m going to need you to give me a key to his place.”