Owen

“Please tell me ye didn’t fuck the girl?” Cillian glares at me as he strides through the door.

I wince, realizing he must have seen Bree coming from my room just now.

“Shit,” he mutters, when he sees my face. “Ye did.”

“No. I didn’t. But if Shane hadn’t…” I shake my head and let out a pathetic breath. “I didn’t know it was her. Not until this morning at breakfast.”

Cillian just frowns at me, his lips tight, brows drawn down, and I know he’s holding back from saying something I probably don’t want to hear.

“What?”

“She was pretty upset.”

“I’m the one that should be fucking upset.”

He grunts. “It’s Beatrice.”

“Bree,” I mutter.

“She can change her name, but she’s still the same girl who used to idolize ye. And, she’s still Agnus’ niece.”

I groan at the mention of Agnus. “The woman will have my balls marinated and roasted on a spit if she finds out. I swear to fecking God, I wouldn’t have touched her if I knew who she was.”

“And ye told her that?”

“Of course.”

Cillian snorts and rolls his eyes. “Ye really are an ass.”

Maybe I am. But she’s the one that lied. The one who pretended to be someone she wasn’t.

I sit down heavily on the couch and rub my palms over my face, guilt eating at me. Because Cillian is right; it’s Beatrice we’re talking about.

I’d cared about the girl. Saw how lost and alone she always was. The way she always held herself back from the others. She’d practically attached herself to me the last summer she’d been in Ireland, and I saw the way she looked at me like I was some kind of savior.

The same look she gave me last night. Shit, I see it now, and I don’t know how I didn’t recognize her.

Those eyes. Bluer than an Irish summer sky.

“She knew who I was,” I mumble, as if the fact somehow lets me off the hook, even though I know it doesn’t.

Cillian shakes his head. “Of course she knew who ye were.”

“And she knew we were here. She admitted it. She came here for a reason. And I want to know what it is.”

“And ye think the reason was ye?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Seducing ye?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ye think she has some big plan?” He leans against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a grin tugging at his lips. “Maybe she wants yer babies. Or, are ye worried she’s going to conspire with Agnus and have yer dick tied in a matrimonial knot?”

“This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny.” He keeps grinning at me.

I glare at him. “What do we even know about her?”

My comment makes him frown. “She’s family. That’s enough. And from what I’ve heard, the girl went through hell when she left.”

My chest constricts, remembering the bits and pieces I’d heard over the years about her. Not much, but enough to know that the Yank her mother married turned out to be a controlling bastard.

But I was too caught up in my own life at the time. Losing Emer to Aiden, then my father’s drinking, and Cillian’s rebellion and anger as I tried to be both mother and father to him. Then, the night when the booze finally won, and my father drowned in his own bile, leaving me alone with a mortgage, a mountain of debt, and a numbness in my chest that never really went away.

Until last night.

Shit. I push the thought away.

“I’ll deal with it,” I mumble.

“Like ye’ve been dealing with everything else?” The humor is gone from his tone, and his frown hardens when he glances over at the empty liquor and beer bottles that litter the coffee table. “Ye’re drowning, brother.”

“I’m the one who taught ye to fecking swim. I always keep my head above water.”

He grunts. “Pretty sure those were Dad’s words before he-”

“I’m not Dad,” I growl out.

Cillian sighs. “No, ye’re not. Ye’re a better man. And ye deserve to find some happiness.”

“Just cause ye’re shitting rainbows and unicorns these days doesn’t mean that’s the fecking definition of happiness. I’m fine. And I’d be a hell of a lot better if everyone would stop harping on my ass.”

“All right.” He holds his palms up in surrender. “I’ll lay off. But I do have to warn ye that Shane just went to pick Agnus up at the train station, so whatever ye said to that girl to make her cry, ye better fix it quickly. Because if she leaves and Agnus finds out it was ye who ran her away, she’ll do more than cut off those balls ye’re so worried about.”

I drag my fingers over my face and let out a low moan, knowing he’s right. “She can run all she wants. But she’s not going anywhere.”

“How do ye know?”

I give a sheepish grin. “Because I have her luggage. And I won’t give it back until I get some answers from her.”

Cillian chuckles as he walks towards the door. “Ye really are an asshole.”