“You’re so easy to patronize.” I wandered down the entrance hall that opened into a spectacular open-plan living space. Light poured into the room from the windows and sliding doors. I’dseen photos online of this place, but seeing it in real life was something else.
“Aye, come right on in,” Callan said sarcastically at my back.
I ignored him. “This is gorgeous.” My gaze landed on the floral sofa that stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of the chic furniture. “Or it almost is. Seriously, my eyes.” I pretended to be blinded by it.
“Hilarious.” His voice rumbled right at my ear.
Fighting off a shiver, I lowered my hand to find him standing too close, with two envelopes held out toward me.
Our gazes snagged, and just like that, eight years melted away and I was fifteen years old, suddenly finding myself seated in class next to the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen in my life. His light green eyes were still, to this day, the most gorgeous eyes I’d ever locked mine with.
Suddenly, my chest felt a little tight, like I couldn’t quite catch my breath.
Then my phone buzzed in my hand, interrupting the electric moment. Cheeks hot, I lifted the phone to my face.
I was thinking … I’m free Tuesday afternoon if you have time to meet for lunch then instead? Samuel.
My stomach knotted. I didn’t have time on Tuesday, but I couldn’t blow off Sheera’s son. This was stress I didn’t need right now. Sometimes I wanted to jump in my car and keep driving until I didn’t recognize anything in my rearview mirror.
“You all right?”
I glanced up to find Callan frowning. His gaze was far too searching.
“Fine.” I yanked the envelopes from his hand. “I need to go.”
I was already at his front door and hurrying out before he had a chance to say another word.
CHAPTER TEN
BETH
The next day, I attempted to shrug off my concerns about fitting Samuel into my schedule next week, as well as a million other things wearing on my busy brain, as I hurried into my parents’ house on Dublin Street with a “Sorry I’m late!”
Music sounded from the kitchen, so I guessed no one could hear me. I hurried through the elegant vestibule that had more shoes than usual lined up along the bench seating, into the large hall housing the wide stairwell that led up to two more floors. Growing up in a mammoth home like our townhouse had felt normal to me as a kid. I’d had no understanding of my privilege until I was a teenager and I met … well … until I met Callan.
My parents had always instilled in us that we were lucky to have a good start in life, but that we had to work hard if we wanted to achieve what they had. They might help and support us, but they weren’t going to hand everything to us.
On the ground floor, three doors split off to a huge kitchen my parents had renovated a few years ago, a TV room, a guest bedroom, a bathroom, and Dad’s office. On the next floor was my parents’ primary suite, a huge second living room, andMum’s office. The top floor had been mine and my siblings’ floor growing up. We each had a bedroom and shared a bathroom. Mum and Dad had kept the character of the house by restoring Georgian coving and paneling throughout.
One day I’d love to be successful enough to buy a place like this to raise my kids. I’d only need around three and a half million pounds.
I snorted at the thought, trying to stem the sudden tightness in my chest.
Most of my family were gathered in the massive kitchen. Mum sat on a stool at the end of the island with my aunts Ellie and Hannah, drinking wine. Dad was at the stove with Grandma Elodie. Luke, Elle, my cousins Sophia and Jarrod, and Luke’s boyfriend, Afonso, sat at the breakfast nook. Grandpa Clark, Uncle Adam, and Uncle Marco sat with their backs to me at the island and to my surprise, there was no sign of my cousins Will or Bray. They were Uncle Adam and Aunt Ellie’s sons. Bray was named after my dad, Braden, because apparently, Dad and his sister wanted to confuse the heck out of everyone.
My uncle Marco’s son to a previous relationship, Dylan, was studying in the US. Like Lily and Luke, Dylan was twenty-one, and he was on a year’s university exchange from Glasgow to Northwestern in Chicago.
Marco’s wife was my aunt Hannah. Hannah wasn’t related to me by blood but was Ellie’s half sister and Elodie and Clark’s daughter, just as Elodie and Clark’s son Declan was Ellie’s half brother. Declan was the one member of our family who hadn’t remained close. He moved to Australia for a job, taking his wife and kids with him, and we only saw him once a year at Christmas.
My dad had always treated Hannah and Declan like his wee sister and brother, so it made no difference to us. We were all family.
And none of my family had noticed me enter.
Longing ached in my chest as I took them in. This lot was only a small portion of it. We were the (mostly) related portion. The rest of our family was made up of my parents’ friends, but we were so close I’d never considered them anything but aunts and uncles, and their children my cousins.
My dad noticed me first. His whole face lit up as he walked around the island toward me. “There’s my gorgeous girl.”
“Well, you did guilt-trip me into being here, so don’t act so surprised,” I replied sarcastically, even as Dad enfolded me in his arms and I hugged him like I hadn’t seen him in years. Dad was tall and broad-shouldered and one of the few people who could make me feel dainty. There was nothing better or safer than a dad hug.
