by Callie Quigg
Anger radiated from his tight eyes. “I found out she’d lied to win the job. I wanted to be here when she botched everything up, and then I was going to step in and take over.”
Quinn bit down on her bottom lip and wished she could take the words back. Wished she hadn’t said anything. Keeping her mouth close would have been better for everyone involved. The pieces of her heart not already broken by Brady shattered into smithereens.
“Quite the team, aren’t you?” Lily clucked her tongue. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t tell Ella.”
Quinn paced back and forth. “We can make this wedding everything she’s dreamed of. I might have lied, but I’m good at my job.”
The smell of burning bacon filled the kitchen. “I still don’t believe it,” Brendan said. “You two seemed so much in love.”
Ronan snorted.
“No one was supposed to find out,” she said, stopping in front of Ronan and reaching for his hand, “but I couldn’t lie. Not anymore.”
“Seems I’m no longer needed.” Ronan pulled away and headed for the staircase. “It’s time I left.”
“Ronan, wait, please.” Quinn ran up to the foyer after him and grabbed his arm, but he shook her off. How could this backfire on her so badly? He was behaving as if she’d killed someone. “Why are you leaving? I told the truth. I don’t understand. Lily doesn’t care. I didn’t want to lie anymore. I wanted to show you I’m not like your ex.” Even though he stood beside her, the distance between them stretched for miles and then snapped.
“Abbey? What’s she got to do with this?” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Don’t you think you should have talked to me before you spilled your guts? You don’t think I deserved to have a say about whether I wanted my character brought into question?”
“How am I bringing your character into question?”
“I promised not to say a word. You should have trusted me. A few more days and this charade would’ve been over. No one would’ve been any the wiser.” He tunneled his fingers through his hair. “I should never have listened to Brady.”
A heartbeat passed before she realized what he’d said. Brady! He was in league with Brady. A slap across the face would’ve shocked her less.
“You. You’re the wolf. And the ‘someone who knows someone’ is Brady. That’s how you knew. And you had the nerve to call me a liar and say I was the one using you to make your lies more convincing. More fool me. What plan did you and Brady concoct?” Her hands shook and her chest tightened. She was going to have a panic attack. How could he have done this to her? All along? All along he knew everything. So many lies. “Why did you ask questions about him if you knew?”
He ran his fingers through his already messy hair “For Christ’s sake, Quinn, forget about him. He’s not the one who’s wrecked everything for both of us. You are. One word from Lily and both of our businesses are finished. Do you know how many of my competitors would love that?” His fists repeatedly clenched and unclenched. “I’ve worked too long and too hard to have my reputation ruined by someone as desperate as you.”
“Yeah, I was desperate. Desperate enough to trust someone like you.”
“Why did I think you were different?” he spat. “Women are all the same.”
Pain oozed from her heart and soaked into every pore. She thought telling the truth would be best for everyone, but now she’d dug herself into an even deeper hole.
She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t breakdown. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as disappointed by anyone in my life, and that includes Brady.”
He turned his back on her and took the stairs two at a time.
****
Ronan charged into the bedroom and threw his clothes into his suitcase. How could he have fallen for her? Trusted her? Why the fuck hadn’t she discussed her plan with him before opening her mouth? No one needed to know. To think he’d wanted to help her. Got rid of Brady for her. He was a fool.
He zipped his suitcase and left the room. If Lily told anyone what he’d done, how he’d pretended to be someone’s fiancé, Donovan Events would become a joke. He’d call his office manager from the car and prepare her for damage control. He had to get away from the castle, weddings, and deceitful brunettes. He wouldn’t give Quinn the opportunity to manipulate him any further with her lies, her smile, or her body. He’d head to his parents’ house and say he’d come home early for Christmas as a surprise. Fuming anger consumed him, and he stormed downstairs. Quinn stood at the bottom, but he didn’t stop.
“Ronan. Wait I—”
“Save your words for some other gullible sap.”
The intensity of her stare prickled his neck, but he left the castle without a backward glance.
Black ice would cover the roads to his parents’ house, and even though every forecast had warned people to stay indoors, he wouldn’t listen. All that mattered was putting as much distance between him and Quinn as possible. If the airport was open, he’d jump on the next flight to New York.
Bitter wind whistled by and yanked his hair. He pulled his wool coat tight and hurried to his rental car. Thick clouds hung in the Arctic-blue sky, and the cold sun glistened off the snow-packed ground. The calm wouldn’t last. Another storm was rolling in, and he wanted to get out of the castle grounds before the plowed driveway filled with snow again.
His fingers rested on the door handle, but his feet turned toward the castle, his heart willing him to go back. But if he went back, the hurt on Quinn’s face might make him forgive her, and he couldn’t do that. No way. Not now. Not ever.
He got into the car, turned the ignition, and watched the snow slide down the windshield.
Snow wind-drifted over the car, and Ronan let out a stream of curses—as if the driving conditions weren’t already miserable enough. He glanced in the rearview mirror at the castle entrance and saw Quinn. Her hunched body appeared waiflike. Thoughts of getting out of the car and swooping her up in his arms looped through his head like a Hallmark movie, but as much as his heart wanted him to turn around, his mind point blank refused.
Flurries blurred Ronan’s visibility and the wipers scraped back and forth hypnotically. He’d called his brother during the drive to explain the full story—leaving out Brady’s involvement. Caden laughed and called him a flippin’ eejit. Maybe he was right.
His car slogged through the grit and snow, and the usual hour drive lasted five, which added to his bleak mood. By the time he pulled into the driveway of his parents’ house, his head, eyes, and shoulders burned from concentrating on staying alive.
A coal fire blazed in the fireplace, and the twenty-year-old Christmas tree, complete with a tattered fairy on top, twinkled by the window. He inhaled and exhaled deeply and turned off the engine. He hoped Caden hadn’t blathered to their mother about him being home. If he had, Ronan would never hear the end.
He crunched over the snow to the front door and a soothing sense of familiarity washed over him. Tonight he’d sleep in his childhood bed, and his mother would feed him to the point of bursting. He didn’t want fussing over, but it would be nice to be surrounded by people who knew who he was. Who wouldn’t betray him or make a fool of him.
He dug the key out from beneath the loose brick on the porch and let himself in. The aroma of cinnamon candles assaulted his nose, making him want to sneeze, and Dean Martin’s velvety tones told him it was cold outside. Dean wasn’t wrong. He kicked off his shoes and placed them in the basket beneath the hall table.
“Holy Mary, Mother of God, someone’s in our house,” his mother shrieked from the kitchen.
“Calm down, Ma. It’s me, Ronan.” He tried to put some enthusiasm in his voice but failed. “Surprise.”
His mother barreled toward him. Her eyes widened, and her hand reached for her mouth. “Paul, would you look at what the snow blew in?” She wrapped her arms around Ronan and pulled him into a Chanel-scented hug. The duty free perfume she asked
for every birthday and Christmas.
He leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I wasn’t expecting you until Christmas Eve. I don’t have your room ready.” She gave an expectant glance behind him. “You couldn’t talk your brother into coming?”
“It’ll be the twelfth of never before Caden comes back.”
“I live in hope.”
Caden hadn’t been home since he’d left, and would never come back. He said he was fine now. Denied anything was wrong. But what had happened to him and Sarah had scarred him for life so it was up to Ronan and their other brothers Kiernan and Rian to come home whenever they could.
His dad entered the hallway with glasses perched on the end of his nose and a cup of tea in one hand. “I don’t believe it.” He sat his cup down on the hall table and gave Ronan a back-slapping hug. “This is a grand surprise. I was about to get ready for work, but I’ll give it a miss now.”
Ronan hung his coat on the rack behind the front door. “You aren’t going to go to work in that, Da. I don’t think many people will be out looking for taxis today.” Despite having four sons and three daughters who had more than enough money to allow their father to retire comfortably, their dad insisted on going out to work every day. He was a proud man and had passed his work ethic onto his children.
“It gets me out of the house for a few hours and out from beneath your mother’s feet.”
“You’ve got that right.” His mother gave his dad a playful push into the kitchen. “Well, don’t just stand there growing moss, Son. Come on. I’ll make you a cuppa, and you can fill me in on your news.”
“Nothing much has happened since we talked last week.” What could he say? He’d blackmailed a woman into saying he was her fiancé and had fallen in and out of love.
His mother leaned against the cooker. Her gaze started at his feet and worked its way up to his hair. “Something’s up. I can tell.”
“Something’s up, all right,” he said, “I don’t have a beer in my hand.”
“It’s much too early for that.” His mother pressed a hand to her chest.
“What do you say to a wee Bailey’s?” his dad said with a pat on his mother’s bottom.
“Thanks, Da, but I’ll stick to the beer.”
Ronan warmed at his parents’ never-ending affection. After thirty-six years, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Quinn’s smiling face flitted into his mind, and his heart sank, but before his emotions overwhelmed him, he shoved her image away and accepted a cold bottle of Smithwicks from his dad.
“Sláinte.” He tipped his bottle against his dad’s wine glass full of Bailey’s and ice.
“Your sisters will be more than delighted you’re home.” His mother picked up the phone. “I’ll call them now.”
While she busied herself phoning each one of his three sisters, his dad pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “What’s troubling you, Son?”
Ronan ran a hand over the scratches on the table—some as old as him. “Nothing. Exhausted from the flight.”
“And what flight would that be? I’ve done the airport run for longer than you’ve been living, and I don’t recall a flight that gets in around this time. In fact, I didn’t even know they’d reopened the airports.”
“Leave it, Da. It doesn’t matter.”
His dad sipped the creamy drink. “Suit yourself. I won’t pry, but you know we’re here for you.”
His taste for ale gone, Ronan tore strips from the label. “Thanks. I know that.” He pushed his chair back from the table and stood with a stretch. “I’m knackered. Think I’ll head to bed for a while.”
His mother curled her hand over the mouthpiece. “I’ll make the bed for you in a minute.”
He placed a kiss on her head. “I’m almost thirty, Ma. I can make the bed.”
She nodded and returned to her phone call. When she thought Ronan was out of earshot, she said, “Something’s not right. He looks as if he hasn’t slept in days. I haven’t seen him like this since Abbey.”
“Leave it, love,” his dad replied. “He’ll tell us when he’s good and ready. You pushing him for an answer isn’t going to make him tell us anything.”
“I should talk to his brothers.”
“You’ll do no such thing.” His dad’s voice rose, something that only happened if he was annoyed. “We’ve never poked around in our children’s business before, and we won’t start now. He’s a grown man.”
“You’re right. I just worry about my boys being so far away.”
Ronan tore upstairs. Abbey. Why did it always come back to her?
Chapter Nine
When Quinn opened her eyes, late evening darkness surrounded her, and an emptiness leaked into places that, until earlier, overflowed with happiness. It’d been seven hours since Ronan stormed out. Seven hours since she’d discovered he’d been in cahoots with Brady the entire time.
How could he betray her like that? She balled up the covers and pulled them over her face. Her head throbbed in time with her heartbeat and her eyes stung, grainy from crying. Why was she so upset over a man she’d met five days ago? Five unimportant days. Not five months. Not five years. One-hundred and twenty insignificant hours. He wasn’t her dream man. He was a stranger. A fabrication. Make believe.
A sob fell from her lips. Who was she kidding? He was everything she’d dreamed of. The piece of tin engagement ring she still wore strangled her finger. It had to go. She yanked the trinket off and threw it into the fire. Good riddance.
Curling into the fetal position, she pulled a pillow over her head in an attempt to silence her thoughts. She might stay hidden away forever. Pretend nothing else in the world existed. She could live in the room. If only. She’d have to face everyone eventually, plus if Lily hadn’t already fired her, she still had a wedding to plan.
There was a knock on the door. “Quinn, sweetheart, you in there?” Brendan called.
Quinn peeked from beneath her fabric fortress. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll come downstairs.”
“You okay? It’s been a few hours since… well, you know…”
Since I committed personal and professional suicide .
“Is Lily still here, or has she left?”
“I’m going to come in,” he said matter of factly. “Are you decent?”
“Apart from looking like I’ve been dumpster diving, I’m fine.”
The door opened with a creak. The light flicked on, smarting her eyes, and Quinn tunneled beneath the blankets again.
“Come out, chicken.” Brendan tugged at the covers.
“I’d rather not.”
“Lily’s still here.” He sat at the edge of the bed. “You need to talk to her.”
“Does everyone know how I ruined Ella Harper’s wedding?”
“Why would you think that?”
She moved the blankets down, so her eyes were visible. “I’m sure Lily has already been on the phone to Ella.”
“You’ve got her all wrong. Whenever you’re ready, come down and talk to her.”
“I don’t think I can face the world right now.” She never wanted to face anyone ever again.
“No matter what happened, no matter what’s true and what isn’t, you and Ronan care about each other. You have a connection.”
“We don’t. He destroyed everything. He was in league with my ex.”
“Destroyed everything, did he?”
“If he hadn’t lied to me about Brady, things wouldn’t be the mess they are now.”
“Tell yourself whatever’ll make you feel better, but you have a job to do.” He lowered his head and interlaced his fingers as if in prayer. “Take it from someone who’s been there, lying in a bed of your own sweat and tears isn’t the way to get things done.
“The airport’s opening as soon as it can and will be fully functional by tomorrow. If you want this to
work for the both of us, then you need to get your arse in gear. You committed to a job that needs finishing.” He left the room without looking back.
When she was on her own, Quinn kicked off the covers and stared at the ceiling. Brendan was right. She couldn’t hide away piecing back her shattered heart. It wasn’t as if she’d die if she never saw Ronan again. It wasn’t as if the world had ended. It wasn’t as if there weren’t other men who would make her weak with one glance.
****
Lily sat on a fireside chair in the kitchen with her legs tucked beneath her and a fishbowl-sized glass of red wine cupped in her hand.
“Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with an appearance.” She eyed Quinn. “You look like shit.”
“You’re so sweet.” Quinn nodded toward Lily’s yoga pants ensemble. “The soccer mom look suits you. You should wear yoga pants more often.”
Peals of rasping laughter spilled from Lily. “You need to work on your insults, hun.”
Quinn scooped up a wine glass and an open bottle of Merlot warming by the fire and poured herself a generous helping.
“That’s my girl.” Lily raised her glass in salute. “Drown your sorrows with alcohol. Wine makes everything so much better, don’t you think?”
Quinn took a large gulp, and her body relaxed as soon as the honeyed liquid hit her taste buds. “I needed that.”
“Sit.” Lily patted the seat of the chair opposite her.
“I shouldn’t.” But she plopped down anyway, which made the wine slosh over the rim of her glass and drip onto her jeans. “I don’t have time. I have to read my texts, my emails. Have you seen my phone?”
“Stop fidgeting. You’re wasting wine.” Lily reached out and steadied Quinn’s wrist. “I have your phone. No calls or texts from lover boy if that’s what you wanted to know.”
Quinn crossed her legs and arms. “You’ve been reading my messages?”
“Eh. When you were off having a pity party for one, someone had to make sure the sky didn’t fall.”