Troubles (Beekman Hills Book 1)

by K. C. Enders

  She shakes her head when I point to the mustard accompanying our paper-wrapped pretzel.

  I hand Lisbeth a bottle of water, and place my hand at her back, guiding her down the crowded sidewalk.

  “Nothing specific, I just really like it here. The people watching is out of this world—where else can you see Elmo, Cinderella, and the Naked Cowboy in the same place?” We head north toward Central Park, weaving through the throngs of people and sharing our pretzel.

  “I have a friend from Dublin, here.” I look to see her reaction. “He asked to meet for a drink a little later on, is that alright?”

  “Of course, are you kidding me? I can hang out in the park, or whatever, take as much time as you need—I can just…” She’s so sweet.

  “Jimmy’s down here too. He had to visit his gran this morning but said he’d meet us for dinner so you’ve someone to talk to while I catch up with Liam.” I’ve waited far too long to spend this time with Lis, I don’t want to spend even a single minute away from her.

  We continue on along some of the smaller paths and come out at a small white gazebo and huge rock that juts out into the lake at the center of the park. There’s a boathouse along here somewhere, but the view from this rock is gorgeous and we are remarkably alone.

  It amazes me that in a city of this size, two people can find a private moment at all, let alone in such a public place. I watch as she scrambles up the rock. I should have gone ahead of her and helped her up, but the view from behind her is worth my breach of chivalry. I climb up after her and set myself down on the top of the rock.

  Turning with a sweet smile over her shoulder, she lowers herself down next to me. “This is one of my all-time favorite places. I love it here.” She practically whispers, “It’s so serene. I saw a marriage proposal last time I was down here.” She looks toward the arched bridge wistfully. “It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I run my hand down her back, unable to refrain from touching her. Grasping her hand, I pull her in close, her back to my front. Her body melting into mine. She untwines our hands, instead running her fingers lightly up and down my arm. “Tell me what was beautiful about it. Was there a rowboat? Champagne and great declarations of love? Tell me you heard him quoting Oscar Wilde.”

  “No. Nothing that elaborate. Just a simple proposal. At the center of that arched bridge.” She nods off to our left. She’s quiet a moment and obviously touched by the memory. “They weren't dressed up, they weren’t doing anything fancy, just enjoying a day together completely alone, surrounded by a ton of people. He paused just shy of the top of the arch, pulled her around to face him, holding both her hands in his.” She meets my stare and smirks. “No Wilde was harmed or abused in the overture. He just got down on one knee and asked.” She looks back at the bridge—seeming lost in the memory. “She said ‘yes,’ and he pulled a small box from his pocket. It was a normal, nothing day that became the start of their forever.”

  It hit me then how simple she is. Not simple. Uncomplicated in her wants and desires. I’m the one making things complicated for her.

  I’d heard what she told her boss the night I had dinner at her bar. I got it the first time she told me she had a plan and needs to stick to it. I just can’t stop myself from wanting to be with her. This is becoming more than a distraction to me—much more.

  I hold her hand, touch her back, some kind of contact for our walk through Central Park and the little zoo that’s there. The time passes far too quickly and we need to get on to meet up with Jimmy and Liam at McCoy’s.

  I need to talk to Liam. I need to know what’s going on at home.

  Chapter 11

  Lis

  Aidan’s been touching me in some small way all day. And though I’m not used to being on the receiving end of so much attention, I don’t hate it. I don't hate it at all. Weeks ago, it made me really self-conscious—exposed and on edge. But, now I think I like it.

  It was reassuring, having his touch as we walked through Central Park and the zoo. It had been so much a part of our day that it totally takes me by surprise when he drops my hand and puts a little extra space between us as we walk into the pub where we’re meeting Jimmy for dinner. I try not to bristle, but it just doesn’t feel right.

  “I’ll be right back, I’m going to run to the restroom.” I’ve felt off kilter since practically tripping over Aidan outside my building this morning.

  What are we doing?

  Aidan is at the bar, deep in conversation with someone but Jimmy’s at a booth near the back of the pub. I move to slide into the seat across from him, but he pats the seat next to him. “Sit here. If he’s gonna be a daft fool, we can work on making him realize it. Come ’ere.”

  I perch on the edge of my seat and reach for a menu. “What do you mean?”

  “I saw him. Dropped your hand and took a step away. Fuckin’ stupid arse…” I miss what he mumbles after that as the pub erupts in cheers at a game up on the screens around the bar. Jimmy snaps his focus to the game and launches into a tirade on Gaelic football and the team that just scored. “…it’s like rugby but fewer rules, yeah? The players are tougher, harder—thicker skulls.” I nod along, not really paying attention, my mind picking the day apart. “…played back in Dublin.”

  “Wait. What?” I drag my gaze from the screen to Aidan. This is not where my focus is. I can’t see Aidan in the short shorts, no protective gear, with ruddy cheeks and sweaty hair fighting for an oversized football. “But he’s a photographer. They would crush him.” As fit as he is, Aidan is small compared to the guys in this game.

  “Concerned for him?” Jimmy smirks. “He played for his school—he was the big one on the field then, yeah.” He leans in sliding a pint glass toward me.

  I push him back and taste what he ordered me. “What is this?”

  “That, love, is a snakebite. Treat it with respect, or we’ll be carrying you to the train.” He laughs at me while checking to see where Aidan is. He’s no longer at the bar, they’ve moved to a small table by the door. He looks pissed, really angry about something.

  Jimmy tries to pull my attention away from what’s becoming a pretty heated discussion. He signals to the waitress and turns to me. “Are we celebrating tonight?”

  “Celebrating what?” The waitress sets a couple shots on the table and waits while Jimmy orders some appetizers. I down the shot of Jameson and look back toward Aidan “What is he so upset about? Do you know?”

  “Erm, you’ll have to take that up with your man.” Jimmy signals for another round of shots and puts his arm around me pulling me closer. The waitress unloads plates piled full of nachos and potato skins. Our table is ridiculously full with all the food, fresh pints, and more shots. Aidan looks over and his expression goes from curious to pissed when he takes in the drinks and empty shot glasses in front of us. Or maybe it’s how close Jimmy’s leaning in to me.

  “Jimmy.” Our faces are closer than I realized. “What are you doing?”

  He reaches across me, enveloping me in his grasp as he grabs the ketchup. “I told you. We’re going to show him what he’s fuckin’ with.” He sits back and looks straight at Aidan with an eyebrow about lodged in his hairline. Challenging him.

  I feel even more off balance than I did when we walked in here. The shots, the things coming out of Jimmy’s mouth and the steely glare Aidan’s throwing this way. I grab the two shots that were just deposited at our table and down them one after the other, immediately realizing my mistake.

  The alcohol burns its way through my veins, making my head swim and my cheeks heat up. When Aidan finally tears his attention away from me, I feel like I can breathe again. I excuse myself to the restroom, needing some space to think.

  I lock the door behind me and fall back against it. What am I doing? The back and forth in my head is driving me insane. No matter how hard I try, no matter how busy I make myself with school and work, I end up thinking about him constantly. I crave him. His wit, the way he cares f
or me—his touch.

  Rob is my benchmark. Ours is the only real relationship I’ve had and that was a mess. I’ve never done the casual hookup thing—can’t imagine a one-night stand. Emotionally, it’s not me, but adding in my clinical knowledge, makes it a hard no.

  This thing with Aidan falls somewhere in the gray area. There’s definitely an end point. He’s here for an extended visit, not to make a life. I know I’m not ready to jump into dating or anything serious, the draw to him is very real. I can spend time with him—date him—knowing that it will end. It all makes perfect sense bumping through my whiskey-addled brain.

  He can be my distraction.

  The bumping turns to pounding and I realize it’s not in my brain, but someone needing the restroom. The pub filled up while I was hiding out, and there’s a line five people deep. And Aidan is at the table with Jimmy. Heads bent together in a heated discussion, mirroring the scene between Aidan and Lance? Lucas? before I escaped into the restroom.

  The conversation blatantly dies as I return to the table. Jimmy’s turned his back to the brick wall with his legs stretched across the seat, and nods toward the spot next to Aidan.

  Aidan reaches for my hand, guiding me down to sit with him. “That took a lot longer than I thought it would. I’m sorry.” His thumb rubs my inner wrist sending electric heat coursing through my body.

  I’m at the tipping point, where I either should stop drinking and take a nap or just fully commit to feeling awful tomorrow. “We…we had some things to straighten out, Liam and I. I’m sorry for the time it took. But you and Jimmy—you were alright, yeah?” There’s a spiky edge to his question, something else that I can’t quite read.

  “Yup.” My rational thoughts blur into a fuzzy haze, my pulse speeding up under the lazy circles he’s tracing on my wrist. I reach for Aidan’s tumbler of whiskey and drain it in one gulp. I just shut my brain off, letting go of my tightly ordered thoughts and become a happy little mess.

  AIDAN

  I got well and truly stuck in the conversation with Liam. I had agreed to meet him—really, he strong-armed me into it—while he was in town, but this is not at all where I want to be.

  I left Dublin to get away from the drama and to try and grieve my brother’s death. On my own. In my own way. Michael was too fucking young to die. And now his widow has more shite on her plate than anyone should.

  Liam had gone ’round to check in on Lorna, and because burying her husband at twenty-six was not enough, she just learned she’s fallen pregnant. The hits just keep on coming.

  While I thought this would be a quick meetup, I’ve spent far longer with Liam than I had planned, watching as Jimmy and Lisbeth drink and laugh—watching him move closer to her. That shite’s not okay.

  I can feel my blood heating as I tense, staring daggers through him. I’m not concerned he’s making a move on her. I just wish it were me cozied up to her.

  “Are you fuckin’ listening to me?” Shite. I am—but not really. “Lorna’s not okay. She’s really struggling. I think you need to talk to her. Maybe come home.”

  “I’ll talk to her. But Christ, Liam, I can’t come home just now. I—”

  He follows my line of sight and drops his pint glass to the table. “Yeah, mate. Sure.” Liam huffs out a judgmental breath, shaking his head. “Aidan, have your fun here, yeah? But you’ve family at home that need you. She’s having a baby. She just buried her husband. You were best fucking friends and the one helping her deal with all that and then you just fuckin’ left—” Liam’s good and hacked off at me for leaving Dublin just days after Michael’s funeral. “She depended on you. And now she needs you more than ever—and you’re over here, fuckin’ about.” He’s practically spitting the words at me now and Lisbeth is watching us.

  Fucking hell.

  I lean in toward Liam, my voice calm and low. “I will talk to Lorna. I’ll let you know when I’ve spoken with her. And what we’re gonna do.” I push back from the table and stand. “It was good to see you, Liam.” I clap him on the back and turn, ready to put this all behind me for today and get back to Lis.

  I watch Lis walk away as I move toward the table in the back. She seems to have this need to escape when things start to overwhelm her. Like she just needs to wrap her head around the situation on her own before she can face it.

  I slide into the seat across from Jimmy, my thoughts swirling around in my head. I ran from the overwhelming emotion of losing my brother and left my best friend in the process, and now I’m not ready to go back. Eyes trained on the door of the loo, I swirl the whiskey ’round my glass wishing that my thoughts could order themselves the same way.

  “Are you fuckin’ listening to me?”

  “What?” No. I’ve not heard a damn thing Jimmy has said.

  “The fuck are you doin’? You’re stupid—droppin’ her hand and blowing her off. Francie saw that, he’d fuckin’ lay you out…” Jimmy’s ripping into me.

  I lean in and make sure I’ve got his attention so I can catch him up on Lorna and the baby.

  “Don’t you fuckin’ ruin shite with Lis, man. You need to come clean. You need to tell her what’s goin’ on.” Jimmy emphasizes his point by pounding his shot glass on the tabletop.

  “I know, just…let me talk to Lorna first, figure out what to do there. I…chssss—” I break off mid rant as Lisbeth comes back to the table.

  I don’t want to do this now. I’ve wasted enough of the evening and I want to take it back, spend it with this girl—not thoughts of my brother’s pregnant widow.

  The train ride back home was a mess and I feel nothing but relief that I have these two safely tucked away at McBride’s. I tried—truly tried—to talk them into calling it a night but they’re dead set on drinking each other under the table.

  I end up helping Finn behind the bar since Jimmy’s in no shape to work his shift. It’s not all that busy tonight, but that and his inebriation give me the leverage I need to swap shifts and have tomorrow free to spend with Lis.

  She’s going to feel like shite as it is, so I water down her drinks and try to get her to eat something. “What is it with you and food? We should just go have a picnic—that’s totally what we should do.” She slams both palms down on the bar to make her point. “We should go to…that place on the river…that mansion?” The place is beautiful. It’s a historic mansion with gorgeous grounds and gardens. I drove through there a while back and have had it pegged as a place to go and shoot—to get creative with my photography.

  “Maybe we should get you home soon so we can take advantage of…”

  She cuts me off with another slam to the bar top. “There will be no taking advantage of m-me tonight. Nope. Sorry, not gonna happen.’’ She’s adorable and trying so hard to look offended and serious…and not off her tits.

  “No feckin’ takin’ advantage of your girl. You treated ’er like shite today and you canna do tha…and ye nade ter be ’onest wit ’er…” Jimmy’s far gone and making no fucking sense anymore. I can hardly understand his slurs—hopefully Lisbeth will miss what he’s getting at, as well. But I slide him another pint to distract the bastard from spilling about Lorna.

  Jesus, I need to call her first thing in the morning and talk with her.

  “Love. We need to take advantage of the beautiful day tomorrow.” Though, Christ, if I’m honest with myself, I’d love to take advantage of her. “Let’s get you safe home and to bed, and we’ll go on that picnic tomorrow.” Jimmy glares at me, just now figuring out that I distracted him with a beer. I hold his stare and slide him another pint. “We’ll talk later, yeah?”

  As I help Lisbeth toward the door, I turn to Finn. “I’m taking her home now—and Jimmy’s got my shift tomorrow. You good?”

  Finn looks up from his phone. “I am. You taking Jimmy home wit’ you?”

  Shaking my head, I laugh and silently tell him no.

  Chapter 12

  Lis

  Oh. My. God.

  My head is a splittin
g, fuzzy mess. I cover my eyes to keep the bright sunlight from killing me, as I feel around for my phone. Why? Why did I do this to myself? Why did I drink so much? After rummaging through my sheets and blankets, I finally find my phone stuck to the back of my thigh—Jesus. I peel it off and swipe the screen awake squinting to check the time. Thank God, it’s only ten o’clock. I close my eyes as gently as I can, not wanting to face the world yet.

  I know Aidan brought me home and Gracyn helped him tuck me into bed, with a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. Probably, I should feel worse than I do, but I pull my duvet up and snuggle in to sleep this misery away. I’m never drinking again. Who doesn’t think that at a time like this? Just as I’m drifting off to sleep, my phone buzzes with a text.

  A: I’ll be there in an hour.

  L: Why would you do that?

  A: This was your idea.

  L: OK. What was?

  A: Our picnic at the mansion. I’ll bring the food. Drink your water and hop in the shower. You’ll feel better.

  L: I doubt it.

  Reluctantly, I drag myself out of bed and have to sit right back down. Good God, just how much did I drink last night? Way too much. I take a couple sips of water and wait for my stomach to accept or reject what I’m putting in it. Somewhat satisfied that the water is not going to make a reappearance, I shuffle to the bathroom. I start the shower before even chancing a look at the mess in the mirror. Mhmmm—ratty auburn hair, raccoon eyes.

  I strip out of my clothes and step into the steam, letting the hot water wash over me. My body shudders, actually shudders, in appreciation and I find a small bit of hope that I’ll live and not resent the hell out of life today. I stay in the shower far longer than strictly necessary and come out feeling pretty close to human. Not human enough that I deal with blow drying my hair. Instead I lazily twist it into a loose braid, where it leaves a wet spot as it lies on my tank top. I swipe on a little mascara and brush my teeth twice.