Irish Love (The Claddagh Trilogy Book 2)

by Amanda Heartley

  “Hey, Kales,” I say with a giggle. “What’s been happening?”

  “Oh, you know me,” she says, waving her hand. “Nothing and everything. Forget about me. I want to hear about you! When did you get in? Where are you staying? With Rory? How is Rory, by the way?” she adds, her voice dropping a few levels when she says his name. I laugh and shake my head, surprised she’s still crushing on my brother.

  “I’m staying in a swank hotel in Downtown LA because his girlfriend is sick,” I explain. “Hear that, Kales? Girlfriend,” I tease.

  “And she’s sick? Oh, that’s a shame,” she says, her voice dripping with fake concern. “I hope it’s not terminal. Will you at least tell me she’s an absolute bitch?” she asks hopefully.

  “I could, but I’d be lying,” I say with a laugh. “Because she's great and an absolute sweetie.”

  “Typical,” she mutters. “Well, then I’ll have to console myself in someone else's arms. You’re coming out with me tonight,” she announces. It wasn’t a question as much as it was an observation. “There’s a party we can go to.”

  “Sure,” I say. “Sounds good.”

  I’m tired, and going out to some party is the last thing I want to do, but since I haven’t seen Kayla in ages, I feel obliged to say yes.

  “Good,” she says with a nod, as if I had a choice. “Text me the address of where you’re staying, and I'll pick you up when I finish my Tai Chi class at around four.”

  “Great,” I nod. I force a smile, because that gives me just fifty minutes to get ready. There goes my nap. “See you then.”

  I end the call and walk over to my suitcases to unpack—and by unpack, I mean upending everything onto the bed, so I can sort through it. Even then, I struggle to find what I’m looking for. My fingers eventually land on my favorite little black dress and I hold it out in front of me like a trophy.

  I have a quick shower, because the long flight hasn’t been kind to my body, then I get changed into my dress. When my make-up is done, and my hair is styled, I examine my reflection in the mirror. Happy with how I look, I grab my bag and head downstairs to wait for Kayla.

  Much to my dismay, she drives up to the hotel on time. I’m shocked, considering she’s consistently late for everything. It was a running joke back when we were teenagers, that anytime we arranged to meet somewhere, I’d add an hour onto the time and still be there first.

  “Siobhan,” she says when I climb into her car. Her eyes are glassy with tears as she smiles at me. She reaches over and squeezes my arm. “You look amazing. God, I can't believe I haven't seen you in forever. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “It's been, what, eight months?” I tease.

  I roll my eyes, pretending I’m not feeling the same tug of emotions, but we both know I am. Kayla has been over here for the last eight months, studying fashion design, and she loves it. Our town just isn't big enough for her. She's got a huge personality and tastes to match. Everything has to be big in Kayla's world, or there’s no point in it being there. I don't know how I slotted in, because we’re complete opposites, but maybe that's why we work so well as friends.

  “Eight very long months,” she corrects. “So, what's happening?”

  I shrug, surprised at how hard it is to find words to summarize the last eight months.

  “Not much.” I say after thinking about it. God, I’m so boring. “The usual, I guess. College and life. More college than life,” I add. I glance at her. “You?”

  “Same. Except college and guys.” She pauses, a cheeky grin spreading across her lips. “More guys than college,” she giggles, and I smile. Yep. Still the same, boy-obsessed Kayla.

  “So, exactly where are we going?” I ask her.

  She grins at me. “Vegas, baby.”

  “Vegas?” I repeat with a laugh. “Isn’t that a little far to drive for a party?”

  She shrugs. “For a good party, you’ll travel as far as you need to,” she says with a shrug. “And besides, it’s not far. It’s like four, maybe four and a half hours.” My head flops forward and I groan at the thought.

  "Fine, but only because I might get some sleep on the way.” I glance at her. “Can you tell me more about this party?” I ask suspiciously. I narrow my eyes, because she's doing that thing with her nose, which is a sure-fire sign she’s holding something back. “Kayla?” I ask, my voice a low growl.

  “Oh, fine,” she huffs, caving in. She shakes her head. “It was going to be a surprise, but we’re going to a wedding.”

  “A wedding?” I repeat. I shake my head because, it's ridiculous. “Whose wedding? It’ll be like nine in the evening when we get there.”

  “Which makes us just in time for the reception,” she retorts. “And I don't actually know her name,” Kayla admits. She pauses for a moment. “Or his, for that matter.”

  “So, then why are we going?” I ask, laughing. “Did you sleep with the groom or something?” I tease.

  “Of course not,” she snaps. “Well, probably not,” she corrects herself, because the likelihood of that being the case is still high. “We’re going to meet Dylan Kane. It’s his cousin who’s getting married. I thought we could try and get in there and—”

  “You want to crash some movie star’s wedding?” I repeat, gaping at her.

  She can’t be serious, can she?

  “Not his wedding. His cousin’s,” she corrects, and I shake my head again and laugh. That doesn’t make it any better.

  “Fine. Whatever,” I say, giving up. It's crazy, but it’s so hard to argue with her. Besides, what else am I going to do? I glance at her and groan, sure I’m going to end up regretting this.

  “Should I have brought a change of clothes?” I ask. There’s no way we’d be driving back home tonight, surely?

  She waves her arm. “Nah, I’ve got plenty. You can wear something of mine.”

  “You do know this is not gonna work, right?” I chuckle.

  “I guess we’re going to find out,” she says, a devious grin on her face.

  All I can do is laugh, because nothing has changed at all. It’s like we’re sixteen again and back in Ireland. Kayla’s still getting into trouble and I’m still going along for the ride.

  Chapter Three

  Ben

  I drop Rory’s phone back to him later that afternoon, but not before updating a few things first—and stealing his sister’s number, of course. I sent her a text, so she has mine… just in case. I’m nice like that. I ring the doorbell and grin at Rory when he answers. He motions for me to come in, so I follow him through to the living room.

  “Your phone,” I say tossing it to him.

  “Thanks,” he says, glancing down at it. “Do I need to go through it to check for swapped numbers, inappropriate photos and other immature shit?” he asks, looking suspiciously at me. I try my best to look wounded.

  “Really, Rory? What am I, eight?” I ask with a frown.

  “Sometimes, I do wonder,” he says.

  I chuckle. “Fair point. How’s Amelia?”

  “She's okay. She’s feeling better than earlier, but she’s still not completely over it. I might leave Siobhan at the hotel for another night or two, just to be safe.” He glares at me. “Which means I'm still expecting those photos every half hour.”

  “Can you, uh, clarify which photos again?” I say with a sly grin. “Because I had this daydream a while ago—”

  Rory shakes his head. “Seriously dude? That's my sister.”

  My smile widens. “I know.”

  He groans and wanders over to the couch, sinking down onto it and I sit next to him. He reaches forward and grabs two waters from the coffee table, tossing one at me. I catch it and twist the cap off, drinking half of it in one hit.

  “So, are you ready for the concert next weekend?” I ask him.

  His face says it all. “I'm terrified as fuck, to be honest. What if she says no?”

  I laugh, because just the idea of her saying no is beyond ridiculous.


  “Dude, she's not gonna say no. She loves you. You guys are great together.”

  He nods, as though my words are helping.

  “It's just really nerve-racking. I get anxious performing in front of people as it is, but throw the proposal in there and the pressure’s really getting to me.”

  “Okay, but you're Rory Maguire. You gotta go big or go home, dude. Not that Amelia wouldn't be just as excited if it was just the two of you alone and you did it by candlelight, or some other romantic shit. You know what I mean? It’s you she’s saying yes to, not the big music star.”

  “I just want to make it special for her,” he says quietly.

  “And it will be. You’re committing your life to her, and she’s going to love it,” I remind him. This is all stuff he already knows, but I know it won’t stop the doubts from creeping in. I glance at my phone and sigh.

  “I should go now, and let you look after Amelia, but do me a favor? Stop stressing. Okay?” I say. “I'll catch up with you soon. I need to discuss some ideas I have for your tour, sometime in the next few days.”

  “Sure,” he says. “Hey, thanks for calming me down.”

  “Anytime,” I grin. He goes to stand but I put my hand up to stop him. “I can see myself out.” I start walking towards the door. Just as I reach it, I hear Rory curse my name. I chuckle because I'm guessing he's just seen the new screen saver I put on there for him.

  ***

  Once outside, I climb into my car and just as I’m about to leave, my phone rings. I glance at it. Mom. I frown, feeling guilty that I’ve been meaning to not only call her, but also get off my ass and go visit her. She’s a four-hour drive away, and until recently, I managed to do that drive once a month with no problem. Then my career took off and there was always something that took higher priority. That sounds awful, especially considering how close we are to the anniversary of Dad’s death.

  “Hey, Mom,” I say, putting the phone on speaker so I can drive. “I’ve been meaning to call you,” I mumble, sheepishly.

  She laughs. “You’re always meaning to call me, Ben. I was starting to get worried about you. Is everything okay?” she asks, concerned.

  “Yeah, fine. I’ve just been so busy with work and stuff…” My voice trails off, because they just feel like weak excuses… and if I’m honest, they are. How hard is it to call your own mother once in a while?

  “You don’t need to explain it to me,” she says, reading my thoughts. “Just call me every now and then. Or come and visit. If not for me, then do it for Josh and Jess. And Grammy.”

  “God, I’m such a bad son,” I mumble, feeling terrible. “I’m sorry, Mom. Okay, I’ll come visit you soon. Hell, you know what?” I say, a wave of determination hitting me. “I’ll come now. I’ll stay in Vegas, visit Grammy and then I’ll visit you guys on the drive back home.”

  “You don’t have to come now, Ben, I just—”

  “No, honestly, it’s perfect,” I cut in, my mind already made up.

  And it really is perfect. It makes so much sense to do this now, especially with Siobhan here. Rory will be busy getting this proposal just right, and I still have to organize a few things for his tour. Not to mention my other clients, who I’ve been neglecting a little bit lately. Besides, I love visiting my family, and I'm not ashamed to say it.

  I've always been close to my mom and siblings, and don’t get me started on Grammy. I used to spend so much time with them when I was based in L.A., then I got this job. Now, I travel a lot and my time suddenly got all chewed up. I need another ten hours in the day just to get it all done.

  “Well, good,” Mom says, sounding happy, “It’ll be great to see you. Don't change your mind either, because the kids will be crushed, and Grammy too,” she warns.

  I chuckle, because I don’t want to get on Grammy’s wrong side.

  “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say to her.

  I press ‘End’ and then call Rory, putting him on speaker.

  “Hey, thanks for the pornographic screen saver, you little fucker. Is everything okay?” he asks.

  I laugh so hard at his warm greeting. “Sure, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to see my mom for a few days. It’ll get me out of your hair while your sister is here, and I haven’t seen my family in ages.”

  “Great idea,” Rory says. “Never lose touch with your family.” He breathes out, sounding relieved.

  “Try not to be so obvious about how much you don't want me around your sister.”

  “Sorry, it’s nothing personal,” he says. “It's just that I know you, and I’ve seen how many women you go through. Sometimes, I don’t even think you realize what you do to them, and I don’t want her hurt, you know? You’re a good friend, but she’s my little sister. You’d be the same, right?”

  “Um, I guess. Thanks,” I mutter, frowning. “I'll try not to take offense at that. I'll be gone for a day or two, so if you need me, you might have a bit of trouble getting hold of me.”

  I hang up before he can add to the conversation, his words putting me in a foul mood. I usually don’t let what other people think get to me, but I do care about what Rory thinks of me. He’s the one person that usually gets me. I shake my head and push it from my mind, and then head home to pack.

  At least, I thought he understood me.

  ***

  Why I thought driving to Vegas was a good idea at seven o’clock on a Sunday evening, I have no idea. I’m not going to arrive until after eleven, which means to see Grammy and Mom, I’ll probably need two nights there. I rub my neck and yawn, fighting off another wave of fatigue.

  I’ve done this trip plenty of times before, but tonight for some reason, it’s dragging. I’ve stopped a few times already to stretch my legs, but it hasn’t really helped much. Finally, I'm almost there. I pull into a little gas station just out of Vegas to fill up with gas and get myself a drink. Just as I'm about to take off again, my phone rings.

  I smile when I see Siobhan’s name.

  “Hello?” I say.

  “Hey, Ben. It’s me.” My mouth creeps into a grin when I hear that deliciously raspy Irish accent. “It’s, uh, Siobhan,” she adds hastily. Because, of course, I have that many Irish girls calling me late at night.

  “Siobhan?” I question, acting like I don’t know a girl of that name

  “Are you winding me up, Ben?” she says, all feisty. “Siobhan. We met at the airport today? You picked me up and tried like, forever to get in my pants? That Siobhan? Onto the next girl already, are we? You dirty little bastard!”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s with the insults already?” I ask. “Calm down, my little Irish firecracker. I was only yanking your chain. Of course, I know who you are. Holy fuck, you’re as bad as your brother for taking the bait, aren’t you? Must run in the family.”

  “Oh, okay. Sorry,” she says, all sheepish now. “I’m just a little jet-lagged is all. I’m very sweet, really.”

  “Right? I’m sure you are. Anyway, what’s up?” I ask.

  “Remember you said if I needed anything, you'd gladly help me out?” she says, her voice getting a little high-pitched at the end, like she’s nervous.

  “Yes,” I say slowly. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, I need your help,” she says. “Like now.”

  “Okay, can you elaborate on that?” I ask, still no closer to understanding what she wants from me.

  “Could you come and pick me up?” she says.

  “Right, well that might be a bit of a problem, considering I’m almost in Vegas,” I say apologetically.

  “Vegas?” she repeats, excitedly. “But, that’s where I am.”

  “What? How? Why are you in Vegas?” I ask, confused.

  “Why are you?” she retorts.

  “Technically, I’m not there yet,” I chuckle. “And I asked first. On second thought, do I even want to know why you're there?”

  “Probably not.” She pauses for a moment. “Can I explain when you get here?”


  “Sure, fine. Just text me the address, and I'll be there as soon as I can,” I assure her. “I'm still about half an hour away.”

  “Okay,” she says, sounding relieved. “Thank you for this. I owe you.”

  “I’ll just add it to the list, huh?” I tease.

  “Hey, the airport was Rory’s thing,” she argues. “He owes you for that.” She pauses. “Now’s probably not the time to be arguing the little details though, right?”

  “Yeah, I’d wait until you’re in my car before you do that,” I agree, chuckling.

  “Good advice,” she says. “And, thanks for not asking questions,” she adds in a small voice.

  “Oh, don't worry,” I say with a smile. “I'll be asking plenty of them when I see you.”

  I wait for Siobhan to text me the hotel address, then toss the phone on the seat, deep in thought. It's killing me, imagining all the different scenarios she might've gotten herself into. How did she go from the hotel downtown to being stuck in the middle of Vegas? I have to laugh, because it doesn’t make any sense at all.

  Even though it's not my fault, and I’m doing everything I can to avoid her, Rory would probably kill me if he knew I was going to pick up his sister. But on the other hand, it’s not like he’d want me to leave her stranded there. I shake my head and lower the window, keen for some fresh air.

  So much for using this road trip to stay away from her.

  Chapter Four

  Siobhan

  I have no idea where Kayla is. I lost her not long after we got to the hotel where the wedding was being held. Now it’s two hours later and I haven’t seen nor heard from her at all.

  Just like I expected, security saw right through her claims that she was the bride's sister when she couldn't even remember her name. Shortly after that, I went to the bathroom and when I came back, Kayla was gone. I assumed she’d somehow found her way inside, but since she's not answering her phone or my texts, I can’t be sure. I'm only slightly worried about her, because she's done this so many times before, but I can't sit in this bar all night and wait for her to come back for me. Especially, considering I have next to no money with me and no way of getting home. Thank God he’d sent me his number, or I would’ve been forced to call Rory for help. I can’t imagine how that would’ve gone down with Amelia still sick in her bed.