Tempting Irish

by C. M. Seabrook

  Don’t say yes.

  I turn, and nod.

  “Heard he’s in France with Mila Blakely. The supermodel,” she adds, her lips twitching up as if she’s enjoying this. “At least, that’s what people are tweeting.” Her shoulders lift and fall, and her smile broadens. “Ye can check for yerself online, but I doubt ye’ll be seeing him back here anytime soon. Not after the way that floozy made a fool of him like that all over the internet.”

  I have no doubt that she knows exactly who that floozy is. Me.

  Stupid emotions twist in my chest, and I hate that I’ve allowed her to get under my skin.

  I don’t even know if she’s telling me the truth. The way she continues to smile as she turns and walks away, back down the road, I doubt it.

  But then, all rumors usually hold some sliver of truth.

  Is he really off with someone else already?

  He wouldn’t. Would he?

  Doubt strangles me, twisting in my throat and making it difficult to swallow.

  I fidget with my phone, debating whether or not to do a Google search.

  Call Emer. I know I should. But embarrassment stops me. Instead, I do what my head screams not to – I turn on my data, type in Owen Gallagher’s name, and hit search.

  The video of us at the airport is the top trend, but as I scroll down I see the words that make my stomach roll. Wild Irish’s Owen Gallagher in Paris with ex-girlfriend Mila Blakely after botched proposal.

  There are pictures. Fuzzy shots taken from a distance and zoomed in. Unrecognizable faces. But it looks like Owen. Dark hair and scruff, avatar sunglasses hiding his beautiful eyes. Mila’s mouth covering his gorgeous lips.

  My heart sinks.

  I lean against the car, trying to catch my breath as I scroll through my contacts needing to talk to someone. I shouldn’t call Emer. She just had a baby, not to mention major surgery. She doesn’t need this drama. I don’t even think she’d be back from the hospital yet. And I’m sure Agnus is with her.

  I dial the only other person I know here.

  “Bree?” Delaney says when she answers.

  “Hi.” My voice is shaky. Stupid emotions. “I’m sorry to call you…”

  “You sound upset. Are you okay?”

  “I was just hoping that offer about staying with you was still open.”

  “Of course, it is. When do you plan on coming?”

  “Tonight.”

  “You’re here.”

  I let out a shaky breath. “I’m at Owen’s. But he’s…not here.”

  “I know.” There’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “I’ll have Cillian come get you.”

  “It’s okay. Owen showed me where you live. I’m going to spend a few minutes down by the lough, and then I’ll come over.”

  “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “Not really. But I’m home. So, I will be.” I end the call, then start to walk down the path towards the lough.

  When I get to the old oak, I glance up at its twisted, thick branches, my fingers itching to climb. Instead, I sit down with my back against the trunk and close my eyes.

  I must have fallen asleep, because when I open them again, I’m jolted by my name echoing down the hill, and the sun is low in the sky.

  “Bree?” A deep voice calls out behind me, and for a fraction of a second hope soars inside my chest.

  Owen.

  But when I glance around the tree, it’s Cillian who walks down the hill towards me, frustration drawing his dark brows down.

  “What the hell are ye doing down here? Delaney’s worried sick about ye.”

  “Sorry.” I stand, my legs trembling from being jolted awake. “I must have dozed off.”

  He keeps frowning at me. “Ye came back.”

  I nod.

  “For how long?”

  “I was hoping for good.”

  His lips tug up slightly. “Ye came back for Owen.”

  “I came back for myself.” Liar.

  “So, my brother had nothing to do with yer decision?”

  I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. It’s too late. He’s already off with some other girl.”

  “Who told ye that?” He frowns.

  “It doesn’t matter who. It’s all over the Internet.”

  Cillian grunts. “My brother is a moody son of a bitch, but he’s loyal to a fault, and he’d never hurt ye that way.”

  “He has no reason to be loyal to me. We’re just-”

  “Tell me ye aren’t as empty-headed as I always thought ye to be.”

  “You’re definitely just as much of an asshole.” Crossing my arms, I glare up at him.

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “Do ye want to know where he is?”

  “He’s in France with Mila-”

  “He’s in Michigan. Looking for ye. And I have a feeling he’s not going to think this is as funny as I do when he finds out ye’re here.”

  My mouth drops open, and my heart starts to beat a little more wildly in my chest.

  Hope.

  “Now, would ye stop yer moping and come back to the house with me?”

  It takes my brain a moment to catch up to my heart. But when it does, I can’t help the tears that pool in my eyes.

  “Shit,” Cillian mutters. “Can ye save the waterworks for Delaney?”

  I chuckle, wiping my cheeks. “Will you do me a favor?”

  “What?” Cillian looks at me suspiciously.

  “Don’t tell him I’m here.”

  It earns me a scowl, but he nods. “Ye better have a damn good reason for keeping it from him.”

  “I do,” I say, a plan forming. “But I’m going to need you to give me a key to his place.”

  Chapter 34

  Owen

  Frustrated and exhausted, I dump my bags in the foyer of my house and walk to the kitchen to get a beer, my chest feeling just as empty as the way I found Bree’s apartment.

  She’s gone.

  The superintendent didn’t even have a forwarding address for her.

  Disappointment, loss, and an ache I can’t even explain winds through me. I rough my hands across my face, trying to sort out what I’m feeling, and what I’m going to do.

  Can’t let her go. That’s all I know. Have to find her.

  God, I’m in so deep.

  I frown when I hear music coming from down the hall.

  Cillian and the guys have a key to the place, but I didn’t see any of their cars out front.

  My chest begins to thump wildly when I recognize the melody being played on the baby grand, and the soft voice that accompanies it.

  Bree.

  It isn’t possible. Is it?

  I suck in a breath when I see her.

  Dark hair tumbles down her back in waves, her eyes closed as she croons out the love song we created together. “Found the lost pieces of my heart. You’d carried them in your pocket all these years.” She compensates with her left hand, to play the notes her right can’t. “…I’m coming home.”

  “Bree…” Words escape me.

  Slowly, she turns on the bench, her blue eyes meeting mine.

  “Hi,” she says softly.

  Adrenaline rushes through my veins, and I have to hold myself back from stalking towards her and diving my fingers into the mess of dark waves that roll across her shoulders and down her back.

  So damn beautiful.

  The kind of beauty that could leave a man desperate, and make him do things he never thought he’d do. Make promises he never thought he’d make.

  “Ye’re here,” I say, my voice like gravel.

  “I am.” A smile pulls at her lips. “Is that okay?”

  “Yes,” I breath out. I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather her be, except in my bed. Naked. With me on top of her.

  Her blue eyes blink up at me expectantly, pulling me in, sucking me in deeper.

  Go to her, asshole, my brain screams. But I’m still a little in shock that she’s sitting there. Worried that if I mak
e the wrong move, say the wrong thing, she’ll leave again.

  “How long ye staying?” I rub the back of my neck, needing to do something with my hands, wanting desperately for them to be on her. The need to touch and consume every inch of her body is overpowering.

  She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, a sliver of doubt slicing across her features. “For good. Agnus said I can stay with her until I find a place of my own. But…”

  There are a million questions in that one word. A hundred promises.

  But…

  I move towards her. “But what?”

  “I thought…” She looks up at me, her expression vulnerable. “…maybe…”

  I place a palm on her cheek, using my thumb to tilt her chin up to me, and I feel her tremble. “Ye thought what?”

  “That we could…try…the something you were talking about.”

  I close my eyes, trying to gain some control over the wave of emotions that pull at me.

  “Unless you don’t want to.”

  “I just spent fourteen of the last twenty-four hours on a plane to find ye. Trust me when I tell ye, I want to.”

  “No promises,” she says. “I’m not asking for forever. Just for right now.”

  I pull her up, wrapping my arms around her. “Ye belong here. With me. Tell me what ye want, Bree, and I’ll make sure ye have it. Everything.” I kiss her, my lips lingering, tasting. “Anything.”

  A smile plays on her mouth, and she brings her fingertips to my chest, her palm covering my heart. “I want this.”

  Her desperate hands fist in my shirt.

  “It’s yers. Every damaged piece of it.” I drop my forehead to hers, my fingers gliding through her hair.

  She sucks in a shaky breath. “Then, I have everything I want.”

  And so do I.

  Epilogue

  Bree

  Six Months Later

  “Can’t go back to broken promises…” I sing, smiling when I catch Owen’s gaze a few feet away, still overwhelmed that I’m actually doing this, recording an album. “…catch me when I fall.”

  Owen grins at me through the microphone filter as he sings in harmony. “…worth fighting for…”

  Our gazes remained locked as the music fades. My heart is so full, it knocks the breath out of me.

  God, I love him.

  I never thought any of this was possible. Some days, I’m just waiting for it to all fall apart. But each day I’m here, in Ireland, surrounded by my family, I’m learning to open my heart a little wider.

  “Sounds great,” Shane says into our headphones from the sound room.

  “I think we should do the last part one more time.” I chew on my bottom lip, the perfectionist in me wanting it to be flawless. “I think my voice cracked in the last verse.”

  “Ye sounded incredible,” Owen says, putting his guitar down and moving around the mics to place a palm on the back of my neck. “I think we’ve got it. Leave the rest to the sound guys.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “We’ve been here for hours.” He grins down at me, his eyes twinkling with promise. “I want to spend time with ye somewhere other than the studio.”

  “What do you have in mind?” I run my palms up his chest, around his neck, fisting my fingers in his hair, and trailing a line of kisses along his jaw.

  Shane clears his throat, speaking into our headphones again. “Reservation’s at eight.”

  “Reservation?” I frown.

  He tries to hide it, but I see him wince. “Almost forgot about that. The guys are coming into the city tonight to talk over a few contracts we’ve been discussing.”

  “Oh.” I don’t mask my disappointment. “I can go back to the apartment.” With the money Frank left me, I bought a small apartment close to Owen’s new recording studio. We’ve been alternating between spending time at his house and the apartment in Dublin, but the past few weeks, seeing as we’ve been finishing up the last recordings of my album, we’ve been mostly here.

  “I want ye to come with me,” Owen says, his hands roaming down my back. “It involves ye, too.”

  “You’re sure?”

  His lips press against mine, soft and possessive, and I can’t help the tremble of desire that races through me. It’s unrelenting, the undeniable attraction he holds over me.

  “I’d have ye by my side every second, if I could,” he murmurs.

  Shane groans into the headphones. “Ye know I’m still here, right?”

  I chuckle, and Owen grins. “We better go.”

  There’s a nervous energy in the car as the three of us drive to the restaurant. Owen keeps glancing at me from the corner of his eye, and even Shane won’t stop bobbing his knee up and down.

  It isn’t just Cillian and Aiden who wait for us at the X70 Bistro, but Delaney and Emer as well. The women stand when they see me, huge grins stretching across their faces.

  “Owen didn’t tell me you’d be here,” I say, allowing them to hug me, no longer uncomfortable with the affection they both lather on me.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Emer says.

  Delaney nudges her and gives her a look.

  “Miss what?” I ask, frowning between them.

  “Ye’re first album,” Emer says quickly. “Aiden says it’s almost finished.”

  “Cillian hasn’t stopped talking about it.” Delaney rubs a palm over her extended belly, looking like she’s ready to pop at any moment. “He says it’s brilliant. I can’t wait to finally hear it.”

  My cheeks burn at the compliment. “It’s all so surreal.”

  A small little wail has Emer turning to the stroller behind her.

  “Oh, you brought Cadence,” I gush, happy to take the baby from her arms when Emer hands her to me. “She’s getting so big.”

  The baby smiles up at me with a toothless grin. Already, she’s starting to look like Emer.

  “Looks good on ye,” Owen’s warm voice rasps in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

  I glance up at him and suck in a breath. We haven’t talked about babies, or even marriage. Not that I expect him to. I’m happy where we’re at right now. We haven’t made any official promises, but when he smiles at me the way he is now, and when he touches me, I have everything I need. Everything I could ever want.

  And if that makes me a little bit like my mom, I don’t care, because some things, some people, are worth the risk.

  The conversation is easy, like it always is among our group, and it hits me halfway through dinner that I’m a part of them.

  My family.

  My friends.

  My roots.

  This is where I belong.

  Tears prick the backs of my eyes. I take Owen’s hand under the table, and he glances over at me, concern drawing his brows down.

  “Ye all right?” He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip.

  “Just happy.”

  His lips twitch up slightly. He takes my hand, brushing my knuckles across his lips before standing. He picks up his champagne glass. “I want to make a toast to Bree.”

  The table goes quiet, a nervous tension mixed with excitement seeming to hum like an almost visible energy.

  Owen takes a visible breath. “Shane and I both want to thank ye for being Lucky Fours’ first signed artist. I believe in ye and this record. Ye’ve got a truly special gift, and I’m proud to be part of the journey to help bring it to the world.”

  There are claps, and Shane hoots, while the others lift their glasses.

  “Thank you.” I sip my champagne, the damn tears I was holding in earlier slipping down my cheek.

  “Ye’re not allowed to cry just yet,” Owen says, pulling my chair out, then kneeling in front of me on one knee.

  It takes me a full second to realize what he’s doing.

  He takes my hand, and I feel him tremble. I hear the long, uneven breath he lets out. “I love ye, Bree.”

  A tangle of emotions has me twisted up inside, but I know one thing is true
. “I love you, too.”

  He grins and lets out another nervous breath, then drags a hand through his hair. “I had this all planned out, but the words…Shit, I’ve never been so damn nervous.”

  There’s a small rumble of laughter around the table.

  “I once told ye that if ye had strong roots, ye could survive anything. And I know ye felt for a long time like ye didn’t have any. But ye’re stronger than anyone I know.” His voice is like gravel, filled with emotion. “But I want ye to know ye don’t have to be alone anymore. Never again. We’re yer family. And I…”

  He pulls out a small box from his pocket and rolls it around in his palm.

  My heart beats, frantic and wild.

  “Until ye came back into my life, there was an emptiness inside me. I didn’t know what it was, or how to fill it. But ye fit in it perfect. I know we said no promises. And if ye still want that, then I’ll honor yer wishes. But I want to make a promise to ye.”

  “Owen-”

  “Let me finish, love. I don’t know if I’ll get through this if I don’t say it now.” His gray eyes darken with hope and insecurities. “I love ye. And I make this promise in front of our friends and family. I promise to protect ye, to honor ye, and to be yer husband, if ye’ll have me.”

  He flips open the ring box and takes the white gold band between his thumb and index finger. There’s a pattern cut into the band, and it takes me a moment to realize that it’s the Dara knot.

  “Will ye marry me, Bree?”

  “Yes,” I cry, causing the table to erupt in cheers.

  Owen pulls me up, kissing me hard.

  My chest squeezes tightly.

  Happiness, that strange emotion I’d had very little of until recently, overwhelms me as I stare up at the gray eyes filled with so much love.

  Love.

  I feel it with every touch, every word Owen gives me. In the hugs that follow from my old family turned new.

  I didn’t think any of this could happen. I just never let my heart hope that much.

  I know there’ll be storms.

  There always are.

  But, for the first time in my life, I know I’ll be able to weather them, because my roots are tangled and twisted with the people in this room.