“Steady now, son,” he says, then climbs into the passenger seat. Eoin nods at me from the driver’s seat, his brow permanently furrowed. Inod back as my father closes the door, and watch them pull around the circle and down the driveway.
I sigh and turn toward the Bentley. Ronan has his forearms propped on the roof, watching me.
“I don’t know, man,” he says casually, looking up at the cloudy night sky. “I have a good feeling about all this.”
“I wish I shared your optimism,” I say, opening the passenger door and sliding in.
Since the Collins place is so close, the drive seems to take only seconds. I watch the darkening trees and looming houses pass by in a blur as I lean against the door, my elbow propped on the armrest. I can feel the nerves start to set in, anchoring under my skin, and I can hear the blood rushing in my ears.
Fuck, I think as we cross through the gate into the Collins estate, where I’d spent a large portion of my childhood. The sound of the gravel shifting from the weight of the tires fills the silence, and finally, we come to a stop, parking in the wide driveway next to my parents’ SUV.
Here we go, I think as I school my face to indifference and climb out of the car.
Chapter 3
Maeve
Brontide (n) the low rumble of distant thunder
Thirty-six minutes,I think, as I check myself in the mirror for what has to be the hundredth time. I have thirty-six minutes before this will no longer be a horrible joke, but a screwed-up reality. In thirty-six minutes, I’d be standing face-to-face withhim. He would be inmyhouse, inmyspace. Anxiety wraps around my ribs, tight and relentless, and I shake my hands loosely at my sides, trying to dissipate the thick air surrounding me.
“Well, if nothing else, at least I look good,” I say with a sigh to my reflection. The black mini-bodycon dress clings to my curves like a secret, falling just above mid-thigh and showing off the sheer back seam stockings and platform Mary Janes I’d paired with it. The top half is modest enough, though, with its square neckline and three-quarter sleeves hiding the markings on my body that I’m not ready to share with anyone else. I fluff the loose curls in my strawberry blonde hair and lean closer to the mirror to check my makeup. I’d decided on a dramatic smoky effect with a bold winged line because it makes my eyes and freckles pop. I run my fingertips under my eyes lightly, my breath fogging up the mirror.
I straighten up and fidget with the rings on my fingers, indecision adding to my anxiety. Earlier, I’d slipped on Callum’s promise ringwithout thinking, and now, I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to wear it tonight.Could be fun, I think, as I gaze down at the beautiful sapphire surrounded by tiny white diamonds.He might shit himself when he sees me wearing it. I look back up at my reflection and nod. Yep, that would be some fitting karma.
I hadn’t worn the thing in forever, of course. I do, on occasion, pull it out when it catches my eye, but for the most part, I avoid anything andeverythingto do with memories of him like the plague. And it isn’t easy to do. Callum and I had grown up together, so he’d spent a good bit of his childhood at our estate. Everything here is tainted. The house. The grounds. My mother’s garden. The only room in the house he’d never been in, at least in its current form, is my library. I’d renovated the space a few years ago when I was getting my interior design business up and running, so it’s one of the few spots that really feels like…mine. I wish I could disappear in there now, cozy up in my overstuffed reading chair, and lose myself in a book. But instead, I’ve got to head downstairs for the world’s most awkward dinner party.
Just then, Biddy knocks on my door and peeks her head in, giving me an empathetic look.
“Your father asked that you come downstairs to wait with him in the foyer.”
I take a deep breath and release it in awhoosh.
“Thanks, Biddy. I’ll be right down.”
She nods at me and smiles, then closes the door behind her.
I look in the mirror one more time to ensure my dress is smooth and my tattoos are covered. I catch a glimpse of my eyes again, and I pause to study them. Something is different, and it isn’t the makeup. They look…sharp, somehow. Excited and bright. Must be the nerves. Before I move, I catch a glimpse of a photo of my parents in the Mount Congrave Gardens in Ireland. My parents were so young, and my mother was so beautiful. They had just gotten engaged, and I couldn’t think of a better place for my dad to have chosen. I run my finger across the photo, wishing she were here right now, wondering what she'd think of all this.
I cross my bedroom and head into the hallway, my heart racing. As I descend the stairs, I see my father in the foyer. He’s nicely dressed in a dark navy suit and matching tie. I watch as he adjusts his cufflinks—gold, bearing the Collins family crest. An anniversary gift from my mother. She’d been gone for well over a decade, but he uses everything she gave him as if she were still here to see it. I smile despite my nerves.
He turns sharply toward me as he hears my heels click on the wood floor. He claps his hands together once and says, “Ah, there you are! You look beautiful,Mo Grian!They are coming up the driveway now.”
For a moment, I freeze in place. It feels like lead has been suddenly dropped straight into my stomach. He hadn’t called me that since…since mom passed.Mo Grian, My Sun. Why now, after almost sixteen years of grim silences? Not only that, but I can feel his excitement about tonight’s festivities. All of it makes me feel both elated and indignant. Why isthisthe affair that brings him joy? Why not birthdays, vacations, or either of my graduations?
I shake it off and smile back at him.
“Thanks, Dad. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“You flatter me,” he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Are you ready for our guests?”
“Do I have a choice?” I mutter under my breath.
“That’s the spirit!” he says brightly as Biddy opens the door for the Egans.
Niall and Aisling Egan smile brightly at us and move through the threshold easily, no trace of awkwardness or hesitance in their movements. My father moves forward to shake Niall’s hand, but Aisling, or Mrs. Ash, as I’d always called her, heads straight toward me and wraps me in an embrace so tight and familiar that I feel an ache in my heart and tears prickling in the corners of my eyes. I squeeze her back, thinking about all of the times I’d missed her so desperately over the last nine years. She’d been like a mother to me after my mother, Imogen, had passed away in a car accident, but after the falling out between our families and between me and Callum, I hadn’t seen her much. A wave of guilt washes over me.
She pulls back, her hands on my shoulders. Her piercing blue eyes, so like Callum’s, are searching mine. I can’t help but notice that she remains incredibly beautiful. Her dark hair is long and sweeps gracefully over her shoulders, and her navy blue evening dress accentuates her ivory skin and lithe figure.
