by Laura Scott
“Jemma. Bree.”
She stiffened when she heard Jake’s deep rumbling voice behind them. She really, really wished she hadn’t impulsively jumped a flight to Michigan. Staying here in a room right across the hall from him in the McNally B&B was beyond awkward.
“Jake, sit down.” Jemma jumped up from her seat as if someone stuck a pin in her behind. “I’ll get you some lemonade.”
“I’m fine, Jem.” Jake mounted the steps to the gazebo platform. “Don’t go to any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble, Jake,” Jemma assured him. “I wanted to thank you again for making the trip here for my wedding. I know you were just here this past June, but I’m so happy you were able to stand in for our father to escort me down the aisle.”
“I was glad to do it,” Jake assured her. “I like Garth, he’s a good guy. Better than your first husband.”
“A worm is better than Randal.” Jemma let out a wry laugh. “But thanks to Garth, Randal has left me and Trey alone, which is all I ever wanted.”
“Glad to hear it.” Jake dropped into the chair beside her, his elbow lightly brushing her arm. Bree moved away, feeling burned by his fleeting touch.
“I better check on Trey.” Jemma ducked out, leaving them alone.
Bree wanted to call her back but obviously couldn’t blame Jemma for wanting to check on her young son. Bree kept her gaze on the vast lake. If one didn’t know better, it would be easy to mistake it for the Irish Sea.
Silence stretched long and tense between them.
“I’ll be heading back to Kalamazoo in the morning.” Bree tucked a curl behind her ear in a nervous gesture. “After I help your sister with breakfast.”
Jake was silent for a moment. “You don’t have to help Jemma cook, she doesn’t mind.”
“It’s the least I can do, after dropping in without an invitation, isn’t it?” Bree didn’t dare look at Jake, fearing he’d see the dejection in her gaze. “And I like to cook, the way she does. Making a full Irish here in Michigan has been fun, even though nothing compares to the rashers back home.” She remembered how much Jake liked Ireland’s bacon.
How wonderful the two intense weeks they’d spent together touring castles, the Blarney Stone and the County Wicklow mountains.
Jake lifted a hand. “Whatever makes you happy.”
He certainly didn’t make her happy, and wasn’t that the real heart of the issue? “Thank a mil for playing tour guide for the past couple of days, McNally Bay is a lovely town.”
Again, Jake didn’t respond, his tendency to remain silent grating on her nerves. She took a sip of her lemonade, wishing for what seemed like the hundredth time that she hadn’t come.
Bad enough to know Jake didn’t fancy her, and planned to move on, but so much worse to prolong the agony. It was well past time to move forward with her own life. One that didn’t include the handsome American.
All the McNallys were good-looking, coming from some sort of incredible Irish gene pool, but in her opinion, Jake was the most handsome of all. His brown hair shimmered with gold highlights that came naturally from the sun, and his dark eyes, similar to Jemma’s, were intense. He was tall, rangy yet strong.
And the wrong man for a homebody like her.
“It’s not home,” Jake finally responded. “Not the way the Murphy Farm is for you, Quinn, and your father.”
“What does feel like home to you, then?” She turned in her seat to look at him, but he was watching the sun drop lower over the lake.
“I don’t really have a place that feels like home.”
His words made her feel incredibly sad for him. It wasn’t the first time he’d downplayed his connection to McNally Bay. Bree found it odd, considering three of his five siblings had settled in the area. Why wouldn’t McNally Bay feel like home to him?
“Home is where your family is.”
He shrugged and finally met her gaze. “Sometimes, but not always. Would you be willing to let me hitch a ride with you to the airport in the morning?”
Her pulse gave a betraying thump of anticipation, and she struggled to keep her voice level. “Coming back to Collinstown with me, are you?”
“Only to get my things.” He turned away, gazing out toward the lake. “I left a few items behind in the cottage.”
Deep down, she’d known he couldn’t stay long in the small cottage on her father’s property. By her last calculation, he had about four weeks left to spend in Ireland before he’d have to move on.
She’d tried to offer him the idea of getting a two-year work visa as her father would have gladly offered to employ Jake on the farm, but he’d declined.
Unwilling to extend his time in Ireland for her. Or her family.
“If you don’t mind,” he repeated when she didn’t respond.
“Grand to ride together. Saves on petrol.” She drained her lemonade glass and stood. No way was she going to sit here with Jake to watch the sun set as if they were some sort of romantic couple. Maybe they were once, but not anymore. “See you in the morning.”
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but she didn’t linger. Instead, she edged past him and carried her empty glass inside.
“Everything okay?” Jemma asked as she entered the kitchen.
“Brilliant.” Bree forced a smile. “We’re heading back to Kalamazoo in the morning, after breakfast. I’ll be down bright and early to help out again.”
“You really don’t have to help me cook breakfast,” Jemma protested. “Although, you do an amazing job. Thanks for teaching me a few new tricks.”
She smiled, a genuine smile for what felt like the first time over the past few days. “You’re more than welcome. And like you, I find cooking relaxing.”
Jemma impulsively gave Bree a big hug. “Jake’s an idiot,” she whispered fiercely.
Tears pricked Bree’s eyes. “Go on now. No reason we can’t be friends.”
“Yeah,” Jemma agreed. She stepped back and swiped at her face. “Friends.”
“Come for a visit sometime,” she offered. “You, Garth, and Trey are welcome on the Murphy Equestrian Farm any time. Jazz and Dalton, too.”
The invite made Jemma smile. “Don’t think I won’t take you up on that offer. It’s been a dream of mine to see Ireland, the country my great-grandparents came from.”
“Anytime, truly.” It felt like the least she could do for the McNally twins. “See you in the morning.”
Bree left, heading through the dining room and the great room, one that reminded her of some of the old Irish mansions that managed to survive the revolutionary rise against England. She was awed by the great stone fireplace, with tall elegant silver candlesticks framing the painting of the Cliffs of Moher from County Clare. The thick cherrywood furniture, the grand curved staircase leading to the second-story bedrooms, six of them all decorated with different colors, were just as amazing. Jemma had given her the rose room, which she found lovely.
She approached the grand curved staircase now, enjoying the fact that a bit of Ireland was here in Michigan’s McNally Bay.
It seemed appropriate considering Jake McNally would take a small piece of her heart with him when he left Ireland for good.
*
Every cell in his body urged Jake to follow Bree, but his muscles remained frozen in place.
She shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. How had he messed things up so badly?
Just under five months ago, he’d flown from Canada to Dublin, leaving a pretty blonde behind. He thought for a moment, trying to remember her name. Katie? No Kayla? Karin? Something like that.
Whatever. It didn’t matter. None of them did. He enjoyed spending time with women, and he had never lied to them about his intention to move on when his current project or investment opportunity was completed. Yet somehow every woman he met decided they were the one to change him. To be the one to convince him to put down roots.
To make him realize what he was missing.
They were
wrong. There was no way to save him. No way to rescue him from himself. The quicker the women he met understood that, the less likely they would be hurt by his inevitable goodbye.
Like Bree.
He stared vacantly at Lake Michigan, a hollow feeling in his chest. Oddly, leaving Bree Murphy was bothering him in a way he’d never experienced before. Maybe because he’d enjoyed the few weeks he’d sporadically spent in Ireland over the past five months. The moment he’d stopped in at the Murphy Equestrian Farm, he’d felt as if he’d recognized the place. As if the DNA embedded deep in his cells from his Irish ancestors had sprung to life.
But his time in Ireland was over. Frankly, he’d stayed longer than he should have, using up sixty-five of the ninety days his Visa allowed. The moment Dark Rogue had won his first two races, Jake had known his project of rejuvenating the Murphy Farm was complete. But he’d continued to come and go between England, where his visa allowed him to stay a full 180 days, to Ireland. He’d also invited Bree to accompany him to Jazz’s wedding in June, a mistake as she’d begun to act as if they were a couple. He’d left, spending weeks at a time in Berkshire, England, then had stopped back in Ireland again, before returning to McNally Bay for Jemma’s wedding mid-August.
Having Bree show up unexpectedly the day after the wedding had forced him to stick around in McNally Bay for an additional couple of days, playing tour guide for Bree the way she had taken him through Dublin, various castles and the mountains of County Wicklow.
Long after the sun disappeared below the horizon, he roused himself to head back inside. It was both a relief and an impending sense of doom to know he would be leaving with Bree in the morning.
He’d miss his siblings, but he was determined to move on to his next adventure. He’d been toying with the idea of heading to Florence, Italy. There was a café and villa that he believed might be a decent investment.
Besides, he’d never been to Florence and thought it would be a great place to spend the last three and a half weeks that remained on his visa.
Jake headed inside, making his way to the green room Jemma had given him. He paused outside Bree’s door, listening for what he wasn’t sure, before moving on.
He didn’t sleep well that night, but when he heard Bree’s door open across the hallway, he found himself shooting up and out of bed.
After a quick shower, he packed his duffel bag so they could hit the road right after breakfast. Then he headed down to the dining area where he found Jazz and Dalton enjoying coffee.
“Jake!” Jazz jumped up to give him a quick hug. “Jemma told us you’re leaving today.”
“Yeah.” He returned her hug, then stepped back. Long goodbyes made him uncomfortable. “Not sure when I’ll be back now that the wedding madness is over.”
“Don’t count Jeremy and Trina out yet,” Jazz warned, dropping into the seat across from her husband. “It’s only a matter of time before they’ll make it official. I’m convinced there will be one more ceremony in the wings yet this year.”
He tried not to groan as he took the seat beside Jazz. “At least Jeremy won’t need me to walk him down the aisle.”
“Ha, ha.” Jazz elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re so not funny.”
“Not true. I’m hilarious.” He glanced around. “Where can I get a cup of tea?”
Jazz lifted a brow. “From the kitchen. Help yourself.”
He scowled, realizing his sister wasn’t going to wait on him as if he were a B&B guest. Since Bree wasn’t seated at one of the tables, he felt certain she was working with Jemma in the kitchen.
His sister’s not-so-subtle attempt to push him at Bree wasn’t enough to stop him from seeking the caffeine he desperately needed. Bracing himself, he went into the kitchen to find Jemma and Bree discussing a new recipe for rhubarb and walnut bread.
“Hi, Jake.” Jemma’s cheeks were pink from the heat of the stove. “What can I get for you?”
“Tea, if you don’t mind.” He noticed Bree avoided his direct gaze. She was beautiful when she wore her long naturally curly dark hair loose around her shoulders, and this morning her blue eyes seemed incredibly bright. She still had the power to steal his breath. If he were a different kind of guy…but he wasn’t.
“I have the kettle on.” Jemma pushed a small wooden box full of different teas across the counter. “Take your pick, I’ll bring out some hot water for you shortly.”
“Thanks.” He chose the strongest black tea she had, along with a cup and saucer, then retreated back to the dining room.
Man, it was going to be a long drive to Kalamazoo.
Breakfast went by quickly, especially since Bree hid in the kitchen the entire time. When everyone had finished eating, and the kitchen was cleaned up to Bree and Jemma’s high standards, it was time to hit the road.
“I’ll be down in a minute.” Bree headed up to her room, returning with her small carry-on bag. He’d been impressed she hadn’t overpacked.
“Goodbye, Bree. Jake.” Jemma hugged them both. “I’ll call you soon, Bree.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Bree responded.
Jake wanted to know what they were planning to discuss, then reminded himself it was none of his business. He carried his duffel out to Bree’s rental and stashed both of their bags in the trunk.
Bree held out the keys, her gaze hidden behind large sunglasses. “Would you mind driving? I was a wreck driving here on the wrong side of the road.”
“Hey, at least our roads are wide enough for two cars.” He flashed a quick grin as he plucked the keys from her hand, opened the passenger side door for her, then went around to slide in behind the wheel.
“We’ll need petrol.” Bree buckled her seat belt. “I managed to get lost, took a wrong turn out of the airport, and ended up in Battle Creek rather than McNally Bay.”
“Not a problem.” He was glad she didn’t seem to be super upset with him. Maybe the drive to Kalamazoo wouldn’t be as awful as he’d anticipated.
He headed into town, secretly amazed at the never-ending stream of tourists roaming around this late in August. A lot had changed in McNally Bay since the last time he’d spent the summer here, twelve years ago.
The gas station/convenience store wasn’t far. He pulled in next to the pump and began filling the tank.
“I’m going inside for a few minutes.” Bree didn’t wait for him to respond but left the car and disappeared inside the mini-mart.
When the tank was full, he paid for the gas via his credit card and waited for Bree. After a few minutes, he sighed and followed her into the building. Maybe she was loading up on snacks for the long plane trip back to Ireland.
He didn’t see her but figured she might be using the restroom. Perusing the shelves, he considered the snack options.
After pulling a bag of almonds from the rack, he froze when he heard a raspy voice behind him.
“That nosy family is looking for evidence.”
Jake’s mouth went dry, his pulse spiking with fear. It was a voice from the past. One he’d hoped to avoid, forever.
“They won’t find it,” a second, nasally voice said.
“You’d better hope not.”
“It doesn’t matter, we’ll be fine as long as we keep our mouths shut.”
“You have more to lose than I do.”
The brief conversation ended when the two men rounded the corner and left the convenience store.
Jake slowly turned but couldn’t see the two men as they left, as they were hidden behind the post. By the time he’d made his way closer to the window, they were well out of sight. Still, he felt as if he’d stepped back through a time machine to twelve years ago.
To the summer that had changed him, forever.
His breath hitched in his throat as a shiver of fear washed over him.
Everyone thought McNally Bay was a pretty little tourist town, harmless except for the occasional drug bust and other petty crime.
But Jake knew better.
McN
ally Bay had a dark underbelly. And the deeply buried secrets upon which the idyllic town had grown into a well-known tourist destination were exactly what had kept him far away all these years.
He couldn’t wait to get out of there, once and for all.