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

by Siobhan Davis

  “Now you sound like Mom,” Kent snipes.

  “Oh, God, Mom is going to treat her like her own personal Barbie doll,” Keanu adds with a roll of his eyes.

  “Hundred bucks she asks her to model within two minutes of being here,” Kal throws out.

  I snort. “Only an idiot would take that bet.” Mom is legendary for it.

  The front door slams shut, and we all perk up. Mom and Dad stroll into the sitting room looking way more animated than when they left. Kaden and Keven trail in their wake, wearing their usual sullen expressions. Kal and I exchange wary looks.

  “Good, you’re all here,” Mom exclaims, taking Dad’s hand and pulling him down on the leather couch alongside us. “We want to tell you about Faye.”

  Mom is practically bubbling with enthusiasm, the kind we rarely see anymore. My sense of trepidation rises a few notches. “She is indeed your father’s niece, your cousin, and she’s going to be living with us at least until she is eighteen.”

  “How old is she?” Kal asks.

  “Seventeen,” Dad replies, and every head swivels in my direction.

  “What?” I send them my best “fuck off” face. “She’s the same age as me, big fucking deal.”

  “Kyler.” Dad’s tone is sharp. “Don’t start. My sister just died and I’ve already missed the funeral, so please, for once, can you stay quiet unless you have anything substantive to add to the conversation.”

  The asshole is back.

  That didn’t take long.

  I glare at him but keep my mouth closed. I can never say the right thing around him, and I know I’m a big disappointment. The usual anger simmers in my veins and it takes considerable effort to stay tuned into the conversation. The urge to get on the bike and hit the open road is riding me hard.

  “We are going to enroll her in O.C., and she’ll be a senior, same as Ky. Technically the guardianship is only until she’s eighteen, but when January rolls around, we are naturally hoping that she’ll remain here with us. She doesn’t have any other family. Her father was an only child, and his parents died a few years ago. We are all she has in the world.”

  Mom laces her fingers in Dad’s, and I stare at the unfamiliar sight. I can’t remember the last time they were openly affectionate with one another. “She has only just found out about us, too.”

  “Why all the secrecy?” I ask. We didn’t know about her, and she didn’t know about us. That’s hardly normal. Then again, there is little about the Kennedys that is. Abnormal is our normal.

  “I don’t know,” Dad says, but I notice how he can’t meet my eyes.

  He’s hiding something.

  “Dad is taking the jet to Ireland the day after tomorrow. They should be back by nightfall. I expect all of you to be here and to be very welcoming. Faye’s just lost her parents and found all this out. This will be a huge change for her. Let’s help her settle in, and give her whatever support we can.” Mom is positively glowing. “I’m taking tomorrow off work to turn one of the guest rooms into a suitable bedroom for her.”

  Kent turns his head away, but not before I notice the hurtful look on his face. I honestly cannot remember the last time Mom took time off work just like that.

  “What’s in the file?” Kal asks, gesturing toward the brown paper folder resting on Dad’s lap.

  “Official documentation, school records, and other stuff.”

  “Do you have a picture of her?” Kal asks, leaning forward on his knees, excitement written all over his face.

  “Yes.” Mom extracts a large white envelope from the folder. She hands Kal a bunch of photos, and my brothers all crowd around.

  “Damn, she is hot!” Kal exclaims, passing the photos around. I stand back, lounging against the arm of the couch, feigning disinterest.

  “Kalvin Edward Kennedy.” Dad’s voice is fierce. “There will be none of that talk around Faye. And, just so I’m clear, she is off limits. She is your cousin, and I don’t want any of you laying a hand on her.”

  “Dad,” Keanu cuts in. “Don’t be gross.”

  “She’s a pretty girl and hormones are running rampant in this house”—he eyeballs Kal and me in particular, which is ironic because Kent is the one he should really be keeping an eye on—“and this needs to be spelled out.” I smirk, folding my arms across my chest. “I mean it, Kyler. Do not touch her.” I glare at him, annoyed to be singled out. Kal snickers, and Dad turns his laser-sharp focus on him. “Same goes for you. Grabby hands off her.”

  I don’t understand why he’s making such a big deal of this. She’s our cousin. There is no need to spell anything out. Who in their right mind would ever consider going there? Ugh. A shiver crawls up my spine at the thought.

  As if.

  This is the scene leading up to Faye’s arrival at the Wellesley house. Also narrated from Kyler’s perspective.

  I throw my cell down on my bed, groaning. Addison is up to her old tricks, and I’d like to know why. That’s the fifth time she’s called me this week. I haven’t picked up or called her back or responded to the twenty texts she’s sent me. But I know her. When she gets something into her head, she throws her all at it. No isn’t in her vocabulary.

  Maybe that’s why she ended up fucking my best friend, who I’ve been told was chasing after her behind my back for months. You think you know someone, when really you don’t have a clue who they are. I shake my head, still pissed after all this time.

  But I miss the disloyal prick, and I hate myself for that.

  Frustrated, I head to the gym and work up a sweat. My thoughts flit to my new cousin who is on her way here right now. Dad is late and Kaden has been frothing at the mouth over missing study time.

  I snort. As if I’m buying that.

  Foregoing pussy time, more like. I can tell there’s someone new on the scene. Not that he’d tell you anything. He’s the cagiest of all of us.

  After I’ve showered and changed, I head down to the garage to check the documentation is in order. Rick has organized storage for the bikes at the warehouse, and transportation is arranged for tomorrow. I want to make sure my babies have a smooth ride. The sound of voices reaches me as I step into the garage. I falter, every hair standing to attention on my body.

  Slim, jean-clad legs swing out the side of the car, and I step back, keeping firmly in the shadows as I catch the first glimpse of my cousin. Her black-and-white Converse bounce off the ground as she straightens up, her thick garishly red locks swaying from side to side. She walks briskly toward my bikes, and my eyes rake up and down her long legs. Her clingy black sweater hugs curves that are all woman, and her shapely ass molds to her form-fitting jeans. Blood rushes to my dick, and I frown, never taking my eyes off her. Dad is chatting to Max in the corner, oblivious to my presence.

  Her fingers coast over my bike, sweeping lovingly over the bodywork and dipping into the grooves in the tires. My eyes lock on her fingers, watching every caress with an intensity bordering on craving, and I wonder what her hands would feel like touching my body. She bends slightly at the waist, her fingers tracing a line farther down the tires, her hair falling in cascading waves over her shoulder. I’ve a sudden urge to run my fingers through it, to bury my head in the strands, to see if she smells as good as she looks.

  I jerk back, almost tripping over a box at my feet. Things are getting tight in my jeans, and I scrub a hand over my prickly jaw, as my heart starts pounding furiously in my chest. I’m totally shocked at my reaction, and instant self-loathing travels up my throat. I should feel grossed out, but instead, I’m turned on. I’m a fucking pervert, hiding in the shadows, checking out my cousin’s ass.

  Without giving it another thought, I cross the space, heading straight for her. She’s still engrossed in the bike, and she only registers my approach at the last second. “Get your hands off my bike,” I snap in the harsh tone I usually reserve for my
father.

  As she straightens up, a faint red blush appears on her chest, rising to her neck. Her head is down, and she’s not meeting my eyes, but I watch as her gaze treks from my feet and up my legs, before zoning in on my abs. Her tongue darts out, and she licks her lips. Slightly parted, her lips are full and inviting, and the urge to suck and bite on her lower lip is almost overwhelming. But I’m a master at disguise, and no hint of what I’m feeling will ever be displayed on my face.

  She tilts her chin up as she continues her exploratory journey beyond my chest and onto my face. Mesmerizing, wide, blue eyes, framed within a set of long, thick, dark lashes meet mine, and instant desire ties my insides into knots.

  Dad should be shot for calling her merely ‘pretty.’

  She’s way more than that.

  Her skin looks pale against the brash red hair, but it’s smooth and clear except for the smattering of tiny freckles across her nose and the faint stain on her cheeks. Her V-neck sweater doesn’t quite conceal all she’s got going on, and I can detect the swell of her generous breasts just peeking out from under the edge of a lace-trimmed vest.

  My dick is rock-hard in my jeans, and I’m hoping she doesn’t notice.

  Fuck me.

  She’s been sent here as a test.

  There can be no other reason why the first girl I’m attracted to in months just happens to be my cousin—a girl I’m forced to live with day in, day out—and there’s a strict “hands off” policy in place. Not that Dad’s warning would stop me if I wanted to take it there.

  How the hell am I going to resist a taste when I’m already primed to explode and she’s just set foot in the door?

  My dick twitches in my pants, and I know I’m totally fucking screwed.

  No wonder Dad warned me off her.

  Bringing a girl like Faye into our house is akin to inviting Hugh Heffner around to party twenty-four-seven.

  What’s worse is I see the way she’s looking at me, the way her body is subtly reacting to mine, and I know she’s feeling the chemistry too.

  What an absolute nightmare.

  I’ve been staring at her with indifference, but now it’s time to put my real game face on. This can’t happen, and it’s time to make that abundantly clear. Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at her, trying to ground myself.

  This shit can’t happen. Not ever.

  Snarling, I pin her with my most lethal look. “Are you done drooling yet?”

  Her eyes narrow to slits as a smirk spreads over her mouth. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re the first specimen of prime American a-hole I’ve seen. I wanted to memorize the form so I know what to avoid the next time.”

  Kill. Me. Now.

  Although her tone is biting, the smooth, husky quality to her voice contrasts perfectly with her lilting Irish accent, and I’m done for. Combine that with her gorgeousness and her obvious sass, and this is a lost cause. Nonetheless, I’ve a part to play, so I smirk back at her, acting as if her words just glided over my head instead of super-charging my arousal. I spot the flare of anger in her eyes before she schools her features into an impressively blank façade.

  Her fingers twitch as she continues to feign indifference. Her reaction is like a shot of liquid lust straight to my crotch. I force my smirk higher, almost laughing when a sneer washes over her face. This is going to be a living hell, and I need to deflect it now, so I lean down close to her ear, ignoring the compelling urge to pull her body flush against mine, and attempt to warn her off. “I don’t know how they do things in Ireland, sweetheart, but you’re in my house—in my domain. And you don’t get to talk shit to me. Keep out of my way, and I’ll keep out of yours. Same goes for my brothers.”

  If I’m having this reaction, I can only imagine how Kal is going to respond. He can barely keep it in his pants as it is. If he even looks funny at her, I swear I’ll…

  You’ll what? I ask myself.

  Shit, now I’m getting territorial.

  As if she’s mine.

  In a different lifetime, I can already see that. How easy it would be to fall for her. To want to keep her. To make her mine.

  My thoughts scare the shit out of me.

  What the hell is happening to me?

  If she were just any girl, I’d probably be rejoicing right now. Because I’ve thought for so long that I’d never be able to feel anything for any girl again. To ever risk letting anyone in. Not after my heart was smashed into pieces. But as I look at this girl, this stranger, who I’ve known for all of five seconds, I know I could do it with her. She could be that for me.

  If only she wasn’t my cousin.

  END OF BONUS SCENE

  Bonus Content From Losing Kyler

  This is the scene from Chapter 20 of Losing Kyler where Brad takes Faye back to the lake to help distract her from the impending test results. These scenes are narrated from Brad’s perspective.

  “I love it here,” I say, pausing to drink my soup. My limbs are stiff with the bitter cold, and I must be crazy to have brought Faye out here today. Even though the thick plaid blanket is draped over her lower half, she’s visibly shivering. I’m a thoughtless ass. “I’ve spent a lot of time here the last few months. It’s one of the few places where I can organize my thoughts into some kind of order.”

  It’s true. Out here, with only the wildlife for company—and the odd grumpy fisherman—I can calm the cluttered thoughts in my mind. The sensation is fleeting. The minute I step back into normalcy, all the usual worries return. But out here, I can find some inner peace.

  “Is that why you brought me here?” she asks.

  Yes. And no.

  I look directly into her wide, trusting blue eyes. “I know you’ve got to be worried. You get the results on Monday, but you haven’t said one word to me since the last time we were here. I thought you might need an ear to bend.”

  I am concerned for her. She’s had to deal with so much these last few months. Deal with much worse crap than me, and she’s been restless all week. I know she’s freaking out over the test results, and I figured it would do her good to get out of the house.

  But that’s only half the truth.

  I wanted to get her alone. Needed to get her alone. I crave her company like a kid craves cotton candy at a fair. All this fake boyfriend shit is totally fucking with my head. There’s nothing fake about it on my part, and I’m not sure how much longer I can continue to deny my feelings.

  The more I get to know her, the more I want to.

  And I don’t just mean as her friend.

  She groans, and that little noise she makes at the back of her throat is exquisite.

  “Why’d you have to be so bloody perfect?” she asks, and damn, if that doesn’t warm up all the frozen parts of me.

  I’m far from perfect, but who am I to shatter a girl’s illusions? She’s edging dangerously close to where I’d like to bring this convo. Even though I know there’s a strong possibility this won’t go the way I want it to go, I refuse to pass up the opportunity. Shoot me if that makes me selfish. I’ve spent weeks acting all selfless and saint-like—I believe I’ve earned my shot. I raise my brows. “Let’s imagine, hypothetically, that that’s true,” I say, lifting my palm when I see her mouth opening to say something. “Why is it a problem?”

  Her beautiful face contorts. “It makes it harder.”

  My brow furrows in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  She groans again, and I sit on my hands to avoid acting on the impulse to reel her into my arms and kiss the heck out of that sultry mouth. She places her cup on the ground and runs her hands over her face. “Do I have to spell it out?”

  The anguish and uncertainty in her gaze is obvious in the extreme, and I take pity on her. I lean in closer, and a dart of electricity zings through my veins when our knees collide. Her touch does the most amazing th
ings to me, and I long to know if it’s the same for her. I know she cares about Ky. I’m not an idiot. But I have eyes in my head, and I see the way she looks at me sometimes. The way she reaches for me instinctively without even realizing what she’s doing. She feels something for me. Whether it’s enough is yet to be seen, but I’m done playing it safe. Time to bring it to the next level.

  She needs to understand she has options.

  Forcing a trace of guilt aside, I take her hands in mine, biting back a wince as her icy-cold skin impacts mine. Dammit! I should’ve thought to bring gloves for her. I force my lips into a playful smile, figuring it’s best to downplay this so I’m less humiliated if it doesn’t go my way. “A gentleman never makes the lady go first.” Before I can chicken out, I spit the words I’ve been harboring in my heart out through my mouth. “I’m falling for you, Faye, but you already know that.”

  She’s struggling to hold my gaze, and my heart pounds anxiously in my chest. My eyes penetrate hers, conveying the full extent of my words, my emotions. Although Faye is one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen, my attraction for her goes way deeper. She’s the first girl since Rose who I’ve made a real connection with. I can be myself around her without fear, and I think it’s the same for her. None of the relationships I’ve had since Rose have ever meant anything or were ever going anywhere because they were too superficial. I couldn’t talk to any of those girls the way I can talk to Faye. On a basic level, we understand each other in a way that’s so rare. So refreshing.

  She’s got to realize that too.

  “And we’d be so good together, I know we would.” My voice resonates with confidence. Confidence I’m struggling to hold onto in light of the conflict playing out on her face.

  Fuck. What have I done? I’ve opened a hornet’s nest, that’s what.

  “I know that too,” she whispers. “In a lot of ways, we are so alike. We’re dealing with similar situations; we both have no parents around, and I know you feel lonely and disconnected like I do. I know we could be good for one another. I know all these things.”