The Irish Getaway: A Kennedy Boys Optional Short Novel (The Kennedy Boys)

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The Irish Getaway: A Kennedy Boys Optional Short Novel (The Kennedy Boys) Page 2

by Siobhan Davis


  Rach has always kept her cards close to her chest, so it’s not really anything new. When I first moved to Dublin and met the girls, I was so consumed in my own problems that I didn’t notice anything was up with Rach for ages. When I did cop it, I asked her if she wanted to talk and she deflected. She’s been doing it ever since.

  But I get it.

  I understand, and I will never be the type to push her on it. Not when I spent years trapped in my own head, dealing with crap I had no control over. If anyone understands how difficult it is to manage stuff like that, it’s me. And I know you can’t force the feelings to come out. Sharing is difficult, yet also cathartic, but the timing has to be right. It can’t be rushed or forced.

  Over the last couple of years, I’ve reminded her I’m here for her and tentatively suggested therapy. It’s helped me enormously, and it most likely would help her too, but she seems reluctant to take that step.

  The doorbell goes off again, and Jill seizes the opportunity to escape. Rach turns back around, swirling her drink with her finger. There’s a petulant look on her face. I nudge her shoulder. “Chill. We just worry about you.”

  “You shouldn’t. I’m fine.”

  I clink her glass with mine. “Cool. I hope you know I’m always here for you if you ever want to talk.”

  Her shoulders visibly relax. “Thanks. I know that, and you’re a good friend, Faye.” Her eyes turn shiny. “If I was going to tell anyone, it’d be you,” she whispers, and my breath hitches in my throat. It’s the first time she’s come close to acknowledging there is something. “I really miss you.”

  Her voice chokes a little, and a deep pain pierces my chest cavity. I hate that she’s hurting and I’m seemingly powerless to do anything about it. I’m just about to tell her I miss her too when another familiar voice rings out across the room.

  “Wow!” Luke whistles none too discreetly, his eyes raking me from head to toe. “Faye, you look fucking gorgeous.” He holds out his arms in invitation. “Come here, baby. I’ve missed you.”

  Chapter Two

  Kyler

  I walk into the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks. Some douchebag has Faye locked in a tight embrace, his hands resting on the top of her ass. Her back is facing me, so I have a perfect view of the lovelorn expression on his face. “You smell fucking gorgeous, too.” He leers, and I stalk toward them with my fists clenched at my side. His hand creeps up her back, winding into her hair as she struggles to remove herself from his grasp.

  “Get your fucking hands off her.” My growl and my expression are predatory in the extreme, and I couldn’t give a shit. The jerk needs to know she’s mine. I’m about two seconds away from knocking this asshole flat on his back.

  His head picks up, and his eyes narrow as he stares at me. Faye manages to wriggle out of his embrace. Her hands land on my chest as I continue glaring at the douche. “Babe, it’s okay. He doesn’t mean anything by it.” She turns and levels one of her deadly looks at the guy. “Isn’t that right, Luke?”

  Luke? Shit. Now I know who he is. He’s her ex. Who clearly wishes he wasn’t if the drunken lusty look in his eyes is any indication.

  “Who the hell are you?” he demands, eyeballing me with ill-disguised venom.

  “I’m Kyler. Faye’s boyfriend.” I enunciate the word, wrapping my arm possessively around her shoulder.

  He snorts, and my nostrils flare. “Fuck me. It’s true?” He pins Faye with a skeptical look. “You’re screwing your cousin? For real?”

  Faye turns rigid beside me, and a muscle ticks in her jaw. “I’m only telling you this out of respect for what we shared in the past,” she says through gritted teeth. “Ky is my cousin by marriage only. There are no blood ties and nothing stopping us from dating, or screwing, as you so politely put it. So, in answer to your question, yes, I’m happily screwing my cousin, and I’m going to continue screwing my cousin for as long as he wants me.”

  “I still love you, baby,” Luke slurs, completely ignoring me. Didn’t he hear what she just said? What an idiot. Then again, if I ever lost her, I would probably act the exact same way. A bout of intense shivers whips up and down my spine at that hideous thought. I force it aside, inwardly chastising myself for even thinking such a thing. We are together forever, and I’m never letting her go.

  Never.

  “No, you don’t. You’re drunk, and if you only came here to stir shit, you know where the door is.” Faye points behind her. “I mean it, Luke. I don’t want to throw you out, but I will if I have to. I’m with Ky now, and I won’t have you upsetting him in my own home.”

  “I’m in love with Faye and you need to back the hell off,” I add, just so the douche gets the message loud and clear.

  “Or what?” he snarls, stepping up.

  He’s as tall as me so I’m looking directly into his eyes when I reply. “Or my fist will make you.”

  He barks out a laugh, and three other guys move into position behind him. I release Faye, flexing my knuckles. I’m confident I can get a few punches in before they overwhelm me.

  “I don’t think so, yank.” His lips curve into a sneer. “I don’t know what you’ve done to corrupt my girl, but she’s clearly not thinking straight.”

  My girl? What a delusional jerk. How did Faye ever go out with this idiot? Then again, I’m hardly in any position to throw stones. I dated that psycho Addison.

  Faye mumbles incoherently under her breath as I grab his shirt. “Listen here, asshole. She’s mine. She’ll always be mine, so do us all a favor and fuck off.”

  Rach puts her drink down on the counter and steps forward, nudging her way in between us. She plants one hand on each of us. “Cool the jets, boys. There’ll be no fighting on my watch. Capiche?” She sends daggers at both of us, and I’d challenge any guy not to cower under the weight of her impressive glare. She turns her death ray on the guys behind Luke. “Same goes for you idiots. Fuck off unless you can control yourselves. I mean it.”

  “Aw, come on, Rach. There’s no need to be like that,” the beefy, dark-haired guy says.

  “Shut your gob, Conor. I’m not taking any of your shite tonight.”

  He winks at her, and she gives him the middle finger. The other guys chuckle, and the tension evaporates.

  “Get your hand off me,” Luke demands, grabbing Rachel’s wrist.

  I pull her to my side, shielding her with my body as I peer into his pissed-off face. “What is it with you and touching girls without their permission?”

  “I’ve known them for years. You’re just a blow in. Quit telling me what to do.” He puffs his chest out, and the urge to pummel him into next week is riding me hard.

  Faye sighs. “Right, that’s it.” She takes Luke’s elbow. “Bye, bye, Luke. Off you go.” She drags him toward the door.

  His eyes pop wide. “You’re kicking me out? Me?”

  “Yep. There’s way too much testosterone in the air for my liking, and I’ve had enough of you insulting my boyfriend. Maybe I’ll see you around before I leave.” She shrugs, and his shoulders slump a bit.

  “When did you become so stuck up? I remember what you told me, you know. You said tha—”

  Rachel clamps a hand over his mouth and starts hauling him away. “That’s enough out of you.” She swats the back of his head. “You’re an idiot.”

  “And you’re still a mean drunk,” he slurs ironically.

  She shoves him out the door, and his posse trails behind, shooting me a few choice looks as they go.

  “Well, that was entertaining,” Jill pipes up rather cheerily from her position at the far wall. She’s leaning back against her boyfriend. Sam has his arms around her waist and his chin on her shoulder. They’re a nice couple and I’ve enjoyed hanging out with them. There’s no drama and that’s refreshing.

  Sam locks eyes with me, grinning. “Luke’s always had a thing
for Faye, but he’s harmless really. And it’s not like you’ve got anything to worry about.”

  I pull two beers from the refrigerator, tossing one to him. “Faye knows I’m the jealous type. Can’t help it even if I trust her more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.”

  “Don’t be jealous.” She circles her arms around my waist from behind. “No one else could ever compare to you.”

  Just like that, my sour mood disappears. Rachel makes a gagging sound from behind, and I turn us as one, grinning like a fool.

  She mock pouts, reaching for her drink. “I’m surrounded by lovesick couples. It’s disgusting, and it’s turning my stomach.”

  “Well, if you’re looking for a little action, the rest of my brothers arrive next week.” I send her a suggestive wink while Faye slaps the back of my head. “Ow.” I rub the sore spot. “What was that for?”

  “Don’t be encouraging that.”

  Rach and I both turn dirty looks on Faye, and she holds up her hands.

  “Are you insinuating my brothers aren’t good enough for your best friend?” I quirk a brow.

  “Are you insinuating I’m not good enough for your cousins?” Rachel plants her hands on her hips, leveling a slightly hurt look at her friend.

  “I’m not insinuating anything of the sort, and there’s no need to look so hurt. I couldn’t care less if you hooked up with any of my cousins. It’s just, I thought you were anti-men these days, and if you want to avoid complications, you should definitely steer clear.”

  Rach almost chokes on her drink. “Anti-boyfriend does not mean anti-men. As if!” She huffs jokingly.

  “You can expect Kent to be all over you,” I explain, remembering how his disastrous attempts at flirting with her last year were immediately shot down. Kent loves a challenge, and he’s not one to back down easily. Rejection barely makes a dent in his confidence.

  “I’m looking for a man not a boy.”

  “Ouch. I suggest you don’t mention that to his face.” I’m not sure even Kent’s uber-confidence could withstand that put-down.

  “Are your older brothers still single?”

  I tip some beer into my mouth before replying. “I honestly couldn’t tell you, but I’ll find out.”

  “Okay, Mr. Wannabe Matchmaker,” Faye says, pinching my butt. “I think that’s enough interference from you. Rach is well capable of making all the necessary moves.”

  “Too right, girlfriend,” Rachel says, high-fiving Faye. “And right now we’re going to make some other moves.” Faye’s forehead puckers in confusion. Rachel laughs. “We’re dancing. Come on.” Then she grabs my girlfriend, dragging her into the midst of the writhing crowd in the living room.

  The rest of the party passes by uneventfully, and we finally crawl into bed at five a.m. when the last of the stragglers have left. Jill and Sam went to bed at around two, and Rachel passed out about an hour ago. I helped Faye carry her to the other spare bedroom.

  I slip into the bed, curling my naked body around Faye, chuckling at her light snoring. She’s already out for the count, and it doesn’t take me long to follow suit.

  The next morning, I rise early, cooking a big breakfast for everyone. Smells of coffee and bacon draw the others to the kitchen, and we reminisce about the night as we chat in between eating. Rachel is very quiet this morning, but I figure she’s nursing the mother of all hangovers. I pour her a second cup of black coffee without asking. She accepts it from me with a grateful smile. Her big brown eyes are sad as she stares into the swirling liquid, and not for the first time I wonder what’s happened to her. I’ve had enough personal demons to recognize them in others. Still, it’s none of my business. But she’s a nice girl, and I hate to see her in pain. I hope whatever is bothering her gets resolved soon.

  After breakfast, we walk our friends to the front door. “I’ll call you during the week,” Faye says, hugging the girls goodbye.

  “What day do your brothers get here?” Rachel asks, giving me a quick hug.

  “Next Saturday.”

  “I’m going to throw them a ‘welcome to Ireland’ party that night. Unless you’ve already made plans?”

  I smile at her. “Nope. We were just planning on crashing here before Mom forces us into all the touristy shit she’s lined up, so that’s perfect. I’m sure they’d love that.”

  “Great. That’s sorted.” She beams, pushing strands of her long brunette hair back off her face.

  “You sure your parents won’t mind?” Faye asks, looping her arm in mine.

  “They’re still abroad, and I have the house to myself. They won’t care.”

  “Okay, then. Thanks, babe.” Faye hugs her again. “Call me if you need any help with the party planning.”

  “Will do!” She waves as she runs out, hopping into the back seat of Sam’s car.

  I clean up the kitchen while Faye gets ready. “You sure you still want to do this?” she asks, coming into the kitchen looking all cute in her jean shorts and tight white tank top. A pink cardigan is wrapped around her toned stomach, and she’s wearing black Converse. My eyes travel a path up her long, slim, tanned legs, and blood rushes south. I discreetly adjust myself in my jeans, and her lips purse knowingly.

  Grinning, I reel her into my arms, unable to resist touching her. “Yes.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

  She kisses me softly. “No. I want you to come with.”

  I grab my hoodie off the back of the chair, lacing my hand in hers. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

  The graveyard is only a twenty-minute drive from Faye’s house. I grasp her hand firmly in mine as we walk through the vast cemetery. Glorious sunshine beats down on us making a mockery of everything I’ve ever heard about Ireland. It rained for about an hour the first Wednesday we were here, but every other day has been sunny and dry. Faye joked we brought the good weather with us. We nod at an elderly man as he passes by, leaning on a curved walking cane for support. There isn’t anyone else in sight on this side of the humongous graveyard. Faye veers right, tugging me along a row that is under the protective shade of towering oak trees that look as old as dirt.

  She stops in front of two adjoining graves with matching marble headstones. Clinging tightly to my hand, she gulps, smiling nervously. She bends down, removing the dried, withered flowers in front of both graves, replacing them with the fresh ones we bought at the cemetery gate.

  Dropping down on her butt, she crosses her legs in front of her, and I mirror her position. “Hey, Mum. Hi, Dad. As promised, I brought Ky to meet you.”

  Pushing aside my discomfort, I clear my throat. “Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Donovan, I’m Kyler, and I’m madly in love with your daughter.” Faye laughs quietly, and I run my fingers through her hair. “Thank you for raising such a beautiful, smart, sexy woman.” She leans into me, kissing my cheek. “I wish I’d had the opportunity to meet you in person, and it sucks that your passing was the event that brought Faye into my life. I like to think we would’ve met any way because she’s the only girl for me.” My voice turns soft, and a tear gleams in Faye’s eye. I twist my head around, focusing on the headstone. “I want you to know that I’ll take really good care of her. You don’t need to worry. She has me, and I’ll be by her side for as long as she’ll have me.” A strangled sob rips from Faye’s lips, and I tuck her in under my arm, kissing her temple. “I will love her, protect her, and support her for the rest of my days. I give you my solemn promise.”

  A gentle breeze ghosts over my skin, and the trees that line the perimeter of the cemetery swish back and forth, creating an eerie but peaceful ambience. Faye sniffles, and I hold her tighter. Her arms wrap firmly around my waist, and I press a kiss to her hair, closing my eyes as I inhale the familiar smell of vanilla and lavender. The smell that I now associate with home.

  “Words cannot convey how much I love you, Ky,” she whispers
a few minutes later. “You make everything better. You don’t know how much it means that you came here with me, that you said that.” She sniffles again, and I hand her a tissue from my pocket.

  “I meant every word, babe.”

  “I know.”

  I tilt her chin up, peering intently into her glassy eyes. “I will always be here for you. No matter what. My world would cease to exist if you weren’t in it, and that’s not something I’ll ever consider. I’m going to propose to you one day, Faye.” I kiss the back of her hand. “I want marriage, kids, everything, with you.”

  She beams, and a shy blush spreads over her face. “I want that too, babe. There isn’t anyone more perfect for me.”

  I kiss the tip of her nose. “Thank fuck. You mean the world to me, Faye. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

  She sighs, and her features relax. “God, if I could bottle you, I’d make a fortune!”

  Her comment breaks the heavy emotion in the air, and we both laugh. “Ditto, baby,” I say, pecking her lips. “Absolutely, ditto.”

  Chapter Three

  Faye

  The rest of the week passes by in a whirlwind. I drag Ky everywhere, but he doesn’t complain. We took the Dart to Sandycove one day to go swimming. The weather was fab, and we had a lazy day swimming and sunbathing between Sandycove and Killiney Beach. Another day was spent in Dublin city center, shopping up a storm and then drinking and dancing into the early hours. Ky still can’t get over the fact he can legally drink in bars and clubs, and we might have overdone it a bit, having to drag ourselves out of bed with matching sore heads the next day.

  I’ve deliberately held off on the usual touristy stuff because I know Alex and James want us to do all that the first few days they are here, but I did take him to Croke Park to see Leinster beat Munster in the All Ireland GAA quarter finals, and we did the Skyline walk so I could show him all the key landmarks in the capital city. We spent a couple of nights hanging with Sam, Jill, and Rachel, but I’m glad we have tonight to ourselves and that we’re staying in. The rest of the Kennedy gang arrives tomorrow, and I just want to enjoy our last night alone.

 

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