That’s why I offered to organize her wedding for her. She was finally getting married to the love of her life, and she was having a child to boot. I wanted her to know how much I care about her, so I have been spending months planning a Halloween wedding. Yep, I did say a wedding on all hallows eve. It definitely was the worst time of year for an outdoor wedding.
Me Da, who has insisted on paying fer the entire shindig, told me to buy every tent in Dublin if I had to, it was still going to be a challenge since the probability of rain was most likely 99.9%.
Still, I was happy to be doing something for her, even after she called me a few months back and added another bride and groom to the ticket. Apparently her fiancé’s brother, Lucas, had proposed to Sara and Synclair thought it would be grand if they were married all at the same time. A thoughtful and romantic notion if there ever was one. So although it would mean more work for me, I couldn’t turn the exasperatin’ woman down, not when she was pregnant with me cousin.
That was the other happy thing, both Synclair and Sara were pregnant, with Synclair being due shortly after the wedding, she had agreed to stay in Dublin to have the baby. I was so excited I could pee me trousers. I was going to be the best cousin this babe had ever had, I couldn’t wait to spoil me little cousin rotten.
Wait, I’m getting off track. Back to me rotten, snarky, piece of shite, ex-boyfriend.
A few years after I started at the college, Sean had become the equivalent of a Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise here in Europe. I stupidly thought he would keep his promise to not let the fame get him big-headed. I actually believed him when he told me that it was us against the world. I was a bloody eejit.
It was our official three year anniversary since actually becoming a couple and our one-year anniversary since becoming engaged, I had planned to make that night our first night together. I know it wasn’t very modern of me, but I had wanted to save my virginity for someone special, so why we had done all sorts of other stuff, we hadn’t actually had “intercourse.”
That night I was going to change all that, give meself to Sean both body and soul. That was until I showed up at his apartment, that I paid the rent on, and found him shaggin’ me best mate on his kitchen table, a table I purchased I might add. If that wasn’t shocking enough, two days later me mate’s mum turned up pregnant and called out Sean as the baby’s father.
Sean had tried to explain, but I stopped listening after he started blaming the whole situation on me, using words like closed off, frigid, and my favorite phrase, “a man has needs.”
Pissed beyond reason I had stomped out of there and threatened to turn him from a fella to chick if he ever came near me again. Now five years later, he was an even bigger international star, but he was reelin’ from a massive scandal. Aggie Sims, my ex-best mate, had dumped him for another celebrity and the baby that Aggie’s mom had claimed was Sean’s, after five years it was discovered to be another man’s. My mom tried to tell me all the gossip that would come down the grapevine from her friends or from shows on the telly, but I didn’t want to hear it. Every time I thought about how Sean and me mate had betrayed me and the cruel things he had told me when I had found out, made me chest hurt and my Irish temper flare.
Which brings me back to the irritating notion of my mother inviting the wanker to Synclair’s wedding. I know my ma had always hoped that Sean and I would work things out, but she had a better chance of Jesus himself showing up at the wedding.
“Now, you’ve put this situation on the long finger long enough, Camille.” My mother pointed her finger at me for emphasis.
I sighed, the woman was like a dog with a bleedin’ bone.
“Fine Ma, invite who you want, but don’t expect me to be pleasant to the arsehole, I just won’t do it,” I warned her. I didn’t want her to be getting her hopes up that Sean and I would work things out. As far as I was concerned that was never going to be happening.
Ma clapped her hands together in delight, I rolled my eyes and concentrated on my cuppa. A cuppa is tea with lots of sugar and trust me I need lots of sugar so that I don’t kill all the bloody eejits that I deal with in a day.
“Good now that’s settled I need you to go into town and pick up the contractor from the airport,” Ma told me as she put a plate teeming with eggs and sausage in front me hungry face.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes again. I didn’t get why we needed a contractor to come all the way from the states, no matter what kind of deal he was giving us. I had already told me Da that there were plenty of excellent Irish contractors that could build that gazebo that the brides were to be married in. I had sketched it all out on me notepad and showed me Da a few months ago. I was going to have a large, white gazebo built in the back yard, and I was going to adorn it with colorful spring flowers. Of course, I expected it to be expensive, but I was still shocked when me da came to me last week and told me that Reece knew a contractor that was willing to come to Dublin and build the gazebo at such a discounted rate that none of the local contractors could even compete.
Of course, me, ma offered the man a room here in the house and apparently I had been offered up as the personal taxi for the wanker. It’s not that I had anything personal against, whoever the man was, it was just the fact that he was a man that doomed him to be forever called, wanker, in my mind. Since Sean I hadn’t dated a single fella, the idea of someone touching me made my skin crawl. I had come to terms with the fact that Sean may have been right about me being frigid. I just can’t relax and let go, so I figured why date? After all, wasn’t the point of dating to eventually shag? Besides, I didn’t need a man, I could be happy with me family, me job at Lark’s Pub, me friends and of course me battery operated vibrator. Who needs a fella when I can have an orgasm and no morning after awkwardness.
Grabbing me keys and pocketbook from the table by the door I braced myself against the brisk cold Irish morning that was waiting for me and trudged off to the airport to collect the American wanker my father had hired.
Dalton
“So, this is your first trip to Ireland, is it?” The beautiful girl next to me, who’s name I don’t remember and really don’t care to ask.
Turning my attention from the small window I gave her my standard issue Hudson smile. Just as expected the cute blonde with the big blue eyes placed her arm on mine and scooted closer.
“Yep, I’m here to build a gazebo for my brother’s wedding, his fiance’s family lives in Dublin.” I don’t know why I offered that information.
“Oh Dalton, you must tell me their names, maybe I know them.” She pushed.
I tried to sigh inwardly, as outward would have been rude, I always try my best not to be rude to a lady.
“Annie, was it?” I asked as I drew small circles on the back of her hand.
Her head jerked up and for a minute, her blue eyes narrowed.
“Aggie, my name is Aggie.” She pouted.
Shit, that was my bad. I wasn’t generally bad with names but after an eighteen-hour flight with a crying baby seated behind me, I wasn’t on my A-game.
I put one hand on her slender neck and rubbed her ear lobe between my fingers, worked like a charm, she nestled her cheek into my hand. All was forgiven, God I loved women.
“Sorry, doll, I think the name is McDougall, they live in Dublin,” I told her as I continued to pet her like a cat.
She sat straight up and stared at me. I was about to ask her if she knew the McDougalls but she shook her head and started to laugh.
“Ach, this is brilliant. You brother is marrying Cami’s cousin then?” She asked seemingly pleased by the connection.
“So you know Camille?” I asked using her full name. I know everyone called her Cami, but I just couldn’t do it, anyone with as much spirit as Camille had, should never be abbreviated.
Hearing the Captain announce we were about to land I buckled my seatbelt and looked over at Aggie and waited. Something about her face changed, the features I once thought to be cute seemed dist
orted somehow as she sat there with a mean smirk on her face.
“Oh, I know Camille, let me tell you all about the frigid ice queen of Dublin.”
Cami
I got to the airport a few minutes before the American’s flight landed from Las Angeles. I took me time walking through the airport, stopping to check out some of the offerings from the shops that were there. Still, even with all my wandering about I still arrived at the baggage claim a wee bit early. Not that I’d know the American when I saw him, my parents had failed to send me with a description. It was all the same to me, besides if I failed to find him, then I guess he’d just have to board a plane back to the states.
It’s not that I had anything against Americans, in fact, I find them bang on funny, I just didn’t like me da taking charge of the building of gazebo when it was my bloody design in the first place. Sure, he was paying fer the wedding and such, but I wanted Synclair to be happy when got to Ireland and happy with me when she saw the grand wedding I’d planned for her.
“Cami?” Asked a familiar voice from my past. Or at least I had hoped it would stay in my past.
I raised me head from my thoughts and found meself staring at the arsehole, ex-boyfriend, Sean.
I stood up from the bench and stepped to the side prepared to bolt. Yeah, it was cowardly of me but seeing him standing there in his fine trenchcoat, and perfect hair made me sick to my stomach. So it was either rush off or puke all over his expensive shoes.
“Cami wait.” His hand grabbed my arm stopping my less than graceful escape.
“What do ya want Sean?” I demanded as I jerked my arm from his pansy ass grasp. Jesus, his hands were so soft he could be a hand lotion model.
His blue eyes narrowed, and he started to frown. Yeah, well too bleedin’ bad, I thought to meself. What right did he have to give me attitude after what he’d done?
“Well, I don’t have all bloody day Sean, spit out whatever you have to say and then go away.” I practically shouted, ignoring the looks from the people pushing all around us as they grabbed their bags from the belt.
“Still as lovely as an Irish wildflower, Cami.” He purred. The man actually purred at me. Did he think he was in one of his romantic films? Did that shite actually make women fall back with their legs in the air?
“Was that it? Was that your brilliant statement?” I asked getting more and more pissed off by the second. Any minute the American would be bustling by me and I could tell I was going to make a grand impression.
“Of course not, if you’d just stop being so bloody angry with me for a moment, I could apologize. Jesus, you’re just as stubborn and childish as you always were.” He ground out in an angry whisper so that no one could hear his words but me.
His remarks stung and for a moment, I wanted to physically rub my chest. Then I remembered who was spewing this crap, and my anger won out over my humiliation.
With all the hurt of five years coursing through my blood I swung out my fist and connected it with his unblemished cheek.
“That’s what I think of your proper apology Sean, my mother may have invited you to me cousin’s wedding but don’t think for a moment that I want you there,” I shouted rubbing my hand. Shite, it felt like it was on fire and I could already feel my knuckles swelling.
I had never seen Sean look so angry. He straightened and rubbed his red cheek. He starting stalking toward me, not sure what he was going to do, but deciding I should definitely do all I could to avoid finding out, I stepped back for every step he took toward me.
Just as I backed into a cold, steel wall, I saw him close in on me. I flinched when I saw his hands raised, then turned my head to ward off the blow to the face I knew was comin’.
When the blow never came I popped one eye open and looked about, what I saw had me opening the second eye straight quick and gawking.
Dalton
Mad didn’t even begin to cover the emotions I was feeling right now. Aggie had gleefully told me the story of how Sean had used Camille for financial support while he made a name for himself in the film business. If what Aggie said was true, Camille worked two jobs and went to school so he could devote himself full-time to his career. How does the little fucker reward her devotion, by fucking Aggie six ways from Sunday on Camille's dinner table?
What was mind boggling was how Aggie claimed that she had been Camille’s best friend, but couldn’t ignore the pull she felt toward that asshole Sean. So Camille had been fucked over by not only her mooching boyfriend but also by her slutty bestie. No wonder the woman was so uptight, with friends like those who needed enemies?
I tried to hide my anger when Aggie explained that Camille’s mother had invited Sean to the wedding, with the hopes they could patch things up. Aggie for her part had dumped Sean for another guy, but now that her fling was over she was coming to Dublin to get him back.
She went from a woman I was seriously contemplating taking into the Mile High Club to someone I couldn’t get away from fast enough.
How she kept up with me in those ‘fuck me’ heels she was wearing, I would never know, but she trailed me through the terminal all the way to baggage claim.
I scrubbed my hands down my face while I waited for my duffle bag to come closer. Aggie hadn’t noticed that I had stopped talking and why would she? She hadn’t shut up since the Captain had announced we were going to be landing soon.
Pulling the bag onto my shoulder, I moved away from the cackling witch and began to search for Camille. I had gotten a text from her father letting me know that she would be the one picking me up from the airport.
Oh, joy! The last time we had spent any time together, she had pushed me into the pond on the ranch. I had never understood why she was so immune to my charm, however, after hearing about Sean and Aggie, I knew why she was so closed off. The woman wasn’t frigid, far from it.
I had tasted her mouth just briefly in the moment before she had hauled off and pushed me into the water. Just before flipped out I had felt her relax, had felt her hands tighten on my shirt and her tongue was definitely not shy. Whatever Camille Patrick-McDougall was, she was definitely not frigid, possibly just uninspired.
As I walked through baggage claim, I finally spotted Camille, standing in front of a guy in a black trenchcoat. Her face was flushed red with anger, and she was standing with her fists clenched at her sides. I quickened my pace and was about ten feet from them when I saw her swing out and catch the much taller man with a decent right hook.
I stopped to laugh but thought the better of it when I saw the very pissed off, trench coat guy start backing her up menacingly. Fits the description of her ex-asshole! Oh hell no, jackass, we do not hit women.
In two strides I was there, his hand was raised to strike, but I struck first. In two moves I had kicked the back of his knees causing him to fall to the ground kneeling and then I rounded on that asshat and right crossed him.
“Fuck off Sean,” I growled.
Camille opened one eye and then the other. When she saw me standing over her ex, she leaped from the wall like it was on fire.
“Dalton bloody Hudson, just what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”
Smiling, I tucked a stray bit of hair back behind her ear; when I noticed how her breath hitched I realized she wasn’t as immune to me as she let on. Okay, this I could work with.
“Looking for a pot of gold,” I told her flashing her one of my brilliant smiles.
All I got in return was a scowl and eye roll. Part of me hoped her eyes got stuck in the back of her head when she did that, not a big part but a part all the same.
“American eejit, this isn’t a cereal commercial, ya just knocked a lad flat, we need to get out of here before the Garda come.”
“Garda?” I had to ask.
“The police, the cops, the po-po.” She explained like I was a simpleton.
Shit, I had only been in Ireland twenty minutes, and I was already running from the law.
Sean groaned from the
ground, and I had to laugh. I laughed harder when Aggie pushed past me to cradle asshat’s head in her lap. That was until I saw the look on Camille’s face. Her fair skin looked far too pale, even her usually rosy, lips were white.
“You little shite, how dare you lay yer hands on him, he has a photo shoot next week,” Aggie shouted at Camille.
“Let’s go Captain America,” Camille told me as she pushed me toward the exit.
I followed behind her as she wove through the crowded airport. She was beyond pissed, I could tell by the way she walked and the way her hands shook. Not that it was a bad view from behind. She had an ass that just begged to be touched, worshiped and bitten. Okay, so I’m an ass guy, maybe it’s a Hudson trait since my brother Reece can’t shut up about how much he loves to worship at the alter of Synclair’s lush behind.
The little wench pulled farther ahead of me, and I had to actually sprint to catch her.
“Dammit it Camille, stop.” I stopped her from opening the door to her tiny car. I mean seriously it looked like a damn clown car.
“Why didn’t they want me to know you were the contractor they were hiring from the states Hudson?” She looked up at me with those mocha colored eyes and a face that was full of hurt.
I just wanted to wrap her in my arms. However, at that moment, the action would probably earn me one less testicle, so I kept my comforting notions to myself.
I sighed, she was right. They should have told her when Synclair had told me about the design for the gazebo that Camille had emailed her I had asked to see it. It was beautiful. It was a large rounded structure with lots of white lattice work and she even sketched all the flowers she planned to place on it for the wedding. As soon as I saw it, I wanted to be the one to build it. The only issue was that I had committed to the renovation of Synclair and Sara new restaurant, “Good Eats”.
No Refunds No Exchanges: A Hudson Family Series- Book 4- Matt and Ali Page 45