by Katy Regnery
Loving Irish
The Summerhaven Trio #3
Ian Haven and Halcyon Gilbert haven’t seen each other since Hallie’s seventeenth birthday…
…the same day Hallie pledged she would never, ever speak to Ian again for as long as she lived.
Hallie Gilbert has had an especially awful year. When her husband of five years left her, Hallie’s four-year-old daughter, Jenny, essentially stopped speaking. Add to this, she had to sell her Boston apartment to pay her husband’s exorbitant credit card bills. What Hallie needs is an uncomplicated autumn at Colby Cottage, her family’s summer home in Sandwich, NH, where she and Jenny can regroup and figure out what happens next.
But Colby Cottage, located adjacent to the Summerhaven Camp, has not been well-maintained, and Hallie finds it in such disrepair, it’s almost unlivable. When nearby camp owner Rory Haven arranges for his brother, Ian, to handle renovations for Hallie, her plans for an uncomplicated autumn suddenly get a lot more challenging.
LOVING IRISH
Copyright © 2018 by Katharine Gilliam Regnery
Sale of the electronic edition of this book is wholly unauthorized. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part, by any means, is forbidden without written permission from the author/publisher.
Katharine Gilliam Regnery, publisher
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Please visit my website at www.katyregnery.com
First Edition: June 2018
Katy Regnery
Loving Irish: a novel / by Katy Regnery – 1st ed.
ISBN: 978-1-944810-29-0
Many a time a man’s mouth broke his nose.
It is not a secret after three people know it.
―Traditional Irish sayings
In memory of
Pauline Katharine Kelley Tapley
xoxo
Table of Contents
LOVING IRISH
Copyright
THE PLAN
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
THE PLAN
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
THE PLAN
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
THE PLAN
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
EPILOGUE
ALSO AVAILABLE by Katy Regnery
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
THE PLAN
(Part 1)
Ten years ago
“Tonight’s the night!”
Almost seventeen-year-old Hallie Gilbert fell dramatically onto the lower bunk as the screen door of the cottage slammed shut behind her.
“Really?” cried Brittany Manion, her best friend, who suddenly appeared from above, her pretty face upside down. “Oh, my God! For your birthday? That’s so romantic, Hallie! Are you sure you’re ready?”
“I’m in love,” said Hallie with a sigh. “He’s the one.”
“The…one?” Britt’s eyes widened before she swung her legs over the bed and jumped down onto the bare, wood plank floors of the cabin they shared at summer camp. “Tell me everything.”
Hallie sat up, patting the comforter beside her to invite Britt to sit down. “Where are Tate and Chelsea?”
“We’re meeting them at dinner.”
“Perfect.”
Hallie loved their other two roommates, but she hadn’t filled them in on her secret summer romance with Ian Haven. Britt was the only one who knew, and it needed to stay that way.
Once Britt was cross-legged across from her, Hallie recounted the steps of her epic summer love affair. “The first week of camp we kissed, right?”
Britt, who was Hallie’s biggest supporter in all things romantic, nodded earnestly. “Right.”
“That’s first base. The second week, he…well, you know.”
“Touched your boobs,” said Britt, trying not to giggle.
“Exactly,” said Hallie matter-of-factly, accustomed to the way her friend occasionally blurted things out. “And last week, we…”
“—did everything but the deed!”
“Yes,” sighed Hallie. In various make-out sessions over the last several weeks, she’d become accustomed to the weight of Ian’s muscular body on top of hers, felt his panted breath on her throat as his lips dragged across her hot skin, and watched the drunk expression in his emerald eyes when she touched him “down there.” She felt both powerful and vulnerable in his arms, her body coveted and beloved, her heart safe in his keeping. “And so tonight it’s time to…”
“DO. THE. DEED,” said Britt in a dramatic whisper.
“Voilà,” said Hallie, grinning at her friend.
“You love Ian?” asked Britt. “You really love him?”
“I really love him,” said Hallie, her voice soft and fervent because she really did. She was utterly and totally in love with Ian.
Ian Haven, the son of the camp owners and the same age as Hallie, had been her from-a-distance crush since she’d first attended Summerhaven Camp at age thirteen. With jet-black hair, sparkling green eyes, and a teasing smile he lavished on the female campers, he was the hottest boy she’d ever seen…not that he’d seen her in return.
In fact, for her first three years at Summerhaven, Hallie, and her best friend, Brittany Manion, had commiserated together about how Ian—and his equally good-looking brother, Rory—hadn’t seemed to notice them at all.
But something had changed this year, at least for Hallie.
Maybe it was the fact that she had grown out her long, straight dirty-blonde hair, or that she’d finally convinced her parents to let her start wearing contacts. She’d also lost the last of her baby fat, had her braces removed, and noticed that her breasts, which had been slow to develop, were perfect B-cups for filling out bikini tops now. Or maybe it was that she’d finally garnered the notice of the boys at her Boston private school, who’d invited her to dances and on dates, boosting her confidence.
Whatever the reason, the moment she’d stepped off the bus in June, Ian had finally noticed her. Blinking in surprise, his smile had grown from small to teasing to full as he reached out his hand and helped her down the stairs. And the moment her hand had touched his? She’d known. She’d known it as certainly as her name or her reflection in the mirror or anything else that was intrinsically hers: Ian Haven belonged to her. And she belonged to him.
“More details!” said Britt. “It’s clear that Rory is never going to notice me. I’m going to have to live vicariously through you, Hal.”
Hallie sighed happily, thinking about the note she’d just found under their “special rock,” behind the public phone booth. It read,
Happy almost birthday.
You and me.
The barn.
Tonight.
9:00.
ILY.
—Irish
Her stomach fluttered with butterflies as she reached for the note in her back pocket and passed it to Britt.
Brittany read the note once and looked up with puppy eyes, then read it again with soft mewling sounds, and then she read it a third time, whooshing forward on the bed to throw her arms around her friend as soon as she finished.
“Oh, my God!” whispered Britt. “I can’t even!”
“I know,” said Hallie, her voice breathless.
“It’s so…perfect.”
Hallie held out her
hand for the note, folding it before sliding it under her pillow.
“Are you nervous?” asked Brittany.
Hallie thought about this for a second.
She’d never had sex, but she had made out with two boys at school, and she knew that Ian was bigger than average. From what she’d gathered, reading books and watching movies, it was going to hurt when he put it in the first time. But after that? By all accounts? It would be heaven. Besides, she loved Ian. She trusted him. She wanted her first time to be with him.
“No,” she said. “It just feels right.”
“So right,” agreed Brittany, just as the camp bell rang to announce dinner.
The girls jumped off Hallie’s bed, checking their faces in the small mirror over the bathroom sink.
“You’ll cover for me tonight? At the campfire?” asked Hallie, catching Brittany’s eyes as she swiped on a little mascara.
“Of course. I’ll say you have ‘cramps’ and you’re resting in bed. Mr. Haven won’t touch that with a ten-foot pole.” Brittany winked at Hallie and giggled. “What time will you be home?”
“Before the breakfast bell, for sure,” said Hallie. “But I want as much time with him as I can get. When the sun rises on my birthday, I’ll wake up in his arms, Britt.”
Brittany gasped, her eyes filling with tears. “I just…I just can’t even! This is so romantic!”
“C’mon. You told Tate and Chelsea we’d meet them.” Hallie reached for her friend’s hand, pulling Brittany out the door of their cottage, Lady Margaret.
They joined the wave of other campers migrating from Oxford Row to the dining hall, smiling at friends along the way. Outside the cafeteria, a group of four girls that Hallie and Britt referred to as “the Fakes,” were on “greeting” duty tonight.
Vicky, Lea, Tasha, and Christine stayed in the cabin next door to Brittany and Hallie—Pembroke Cottage. Because of the way a certain exhaust pipe was positioned in Pembroke’s bathroom, the girls in Lady Margaret could overhear a lot of their neighbors’ nightly conversations wherein they verbally brutalized other girls at camp.
Vicky was the “Queen Bee,” but Tasha was the most vicious, with Lea and Christine mostly acting as a fervent audience to Vicky and Tasha’s razor-sharp meanness. No one else knew what went on in Pembroke—the Fakes were too clever for that. Outside of their safe space, they acted like everyone’s best friends with eager smiles and syrupy-sweet compliments.
“The hottest girls at camp have arrived for dinner!” exclaimed Vicky, checking off Brittany and Hallie’s names on her clipboard with a wide smile.
“Hey, y’all,” said Lea, who was from Charleston. “Lookin’ good tonight.”
“Thanks, Lea,” said Brittany with chipper smile, playing along. “You too. Christine, your hair’s, like, perfect. For reals.”
“Staaaaaahp,” said Christine, putting her hand on Britt’s arm. “Yours is amazing!”
“Oh, my God,” said Vicky, elbowing her friend, “just take a compliment, Chris!”
“You’re so right, Vicks.” She turned back to Brittany. “Thanks, Britt. You’re the sweetest.”
Hallie flicked her eyes to Tasha, whom she caught with a sour look, checking out Hallie’s new DKNY swimsuit cover-up. It was a navy-and-peach-colored, strapless Lycra dress with a sash that accentuated Hallie’s slim hips.
“Tasha?”
She changed her expression quickly, brightening her face with a huge smile and gesturing to Hallie’s outfit with a flick of her chin. “New?”
Hallie nodded. “My Mom sent a box of stuff for my birthday.”
“OMG! It’s your birthday?!” exclaimed Vicky. “That’s so cool! We’ll make everyone sing for you tonight, Hallie!”
“You guys are the best,” said Brittany sweetly, tugging Hallie into the dining hall with her. She leaned closer. “Ugh, those four. I feel dirty now. Where’s the shower?”
“Tonight, Tasha will be talking about how ugly she thinks my dress is. Make sure you take notes.”
Brittany squeezed her friend’s hand. “Forget it. You’ll have to ask Tate or Chelsea. I’m putting on headphones and tuning them out. I can’t even with the meanness.”
Hallie grinned at Brittany before looking up to find Ian Haven walking toward her from across the great room, his muscular chest covered by a royal-blue Summerhaven Camp polo shirt, his tan legs corded with sinew, his calves flexing with each step.
Tonight. Tonight. Tonight.
With his eyes locked on hers, he touched the skin behind his ear with two fingers, a coded gesture that meant, I left a note for you.
She wet her lips with her tongue. I got it.
He bit his lower lip, then raised his eyebrows. Yes or No?
She nodded at him, a gesture so subtle it would be missed by anyone but him. Yes.
He never slowed his pace, passing her without incident, careful not to touch her, careful, as always, not to draw attention to their fierce, thriving love. It was the most important rule of their relationship: his parents could never find out. Dating campers was totally forbidden by Mr. and Mrs. Haven, and while Ian didn’t seem to mind breaking the rules, he didn’t want to be caught and punished for it either.
“You two,” murmured Brittany from beside her. “I could literally feel that.”
Me too, thought Hallie, weak with desire as Brittany pulled her toward the salad bar. As she took a chilled plate from the stack, she flicked her eyes in Ian’s direction, watching as he stood at the entrance with the Fakes for a few minutes, talking to Vicky and Tasha before tossing back his head with full-bodied laughter.
It didn’t make Hallie jealous. If anything, it made her smile to watch him laugh. Because, she thought, let’s face it: in three hours, it won’t be one of their bodies he’s worshipping.
It’ll be mine.
Happy birthday to me.
***
Ian Haven made it a point to deflect attention away from him and Halcyon Gilbert by flirting with other girls—any girls, it really didn’t matter whom—after every time he saw her.
Just in case someone had noticed the quick, hot look they’d just shared, he needed to be sure that it appeared that he didn’t have a favorite. Because shite, if his parents caught wind of what was going on between him and Hallie? His goose would be cooked. Nah. Worse. His mother would draw blood if she knew what Ian had planned for tonight.
“…a Rory and Ian sandwich!” finished Vicky Lafontaine, winking at Ian as her friends tittered around her.
He had no idea what she’d just said, and frankly, from the tidbit he’d caught at the end it sounded pretty disgusting, but he threw back his head and laughed. “Damn, Vicks!”
“Vicky, you’re pure evil,” purred Tasha.
“I’m just sayin’,” she said, ignoring her friend, eyes only for Ian, “you and Rory are scorching hot this summer.”
“Takes one to know one,” he said suggestively, letting his glance flick to her full breasts before catching her eyes again.
Vicky’s cheeks flushed as she laughed breathlessly. “You’re the worst flirt, Ian Haven.”
Ian winked at her. “I have it on good authority that I’m the best, actually.”
Vicky gasped softly, licking her lips and taking a step toward him. “Wouldn’t mind finding out for myself.”
Shoot. This is going too far. Ian chucked her under the chin like he did with Tierney sometimes.
“‘No datin’ the campers, Ian,’” he said in his best Irish brogue, imitating his mother.
“I wouldn’t tell,” said Vicky, her eyes wide and dark as she cocked her head to the side.
Ian took a step back from her, straightening his expression. “Rules are rules.”
“…and made to be broken,” persisted Vicky.
He should have known better than to choose Vicky for his deflection tactics. She was increasingly bolder this summer. She didn’t need his encouragement.
“Ian? Ian! I need your help.”
Thank God.
He looked up to see his sister, Tierney, standing nearby with an armful of towels that she could easily handle on her own.
“Duty calls!” he said, winking at the girls before sprinting away.
Tierney gave him a look as he took half of the towels from her. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Nah. It’s nothing.”
“Ten bucks says that Vicky’s parents file a complaint by August.”
As they started walking side by side, Ian flicked a glance over his shoulder, only to find Vicky watching him thoughtfully from the dining room door. When they locked eyes, she smiled widely and winked at him. Ian turned quickly, though he had a sense that Tierney might be right. Fuck.
“For what?”
“Disappointed expectations,” said Tierney.
“I don’t like her. Not like that.”
“Yeah. I know,” said Tierney matter-of-factly, “but she doesn’t.”
Ian’s neck felt itchy, but his hands were full of towels so he couldn’t scratch.
He should have flirted with one of the other Pembroke girls, but Hallie’s sky-blue eyes had distracted him so thoroughly, their plans for tonight so filling his head, he hadn’t been on his game.
Hallie. Halcyon Gilbert.
The old Webster’s dictionary in his parent’s living room said that “halcyon” was an adjective that meant happy and golden, and damn, but it was the perfect name for her. Everything about her—everything about the way she made him feel—was happy and golden.
He was so in love with that girl, he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Speaking of…” said Tierney as they continued walking toward the Cambridge Row cabins, “who is your flavor-of-the-month? Rory and I can’t figure it out.”
“I think that’s a good thing.”
“Is it?” Tierney was quiet for a moment. “I know you’re with someone. I can tell. How come you haven’t told us who?”
It was a good question, a fair question, because Ian was usually forthcoming with his siblings about whom he was dating…or fucking, for that matter. But this time? It all felt different. He hadn’t told anyone about his feelings for Hallie. They were too sacred. Too special. He couldn’t risk them by speaking of them—not even to the people he trusted most in the whole world.