At least my father wouldn't have a clue where to find me, and even if he did somehow track me down, he'd never make it onto the estate.
Dad had always seemed larger than life. A frightening giant of a man. The ogre who haunted my nightmares. But he was old now. Or so I tried to tell myself.
I picked my way along the stone path toward the rose garden. Declan had ordered the guards to stay out of sight while he entertained guests, but I spotted two lurking under the trees,and a third hovering near the pool house. The rest stayed well back, guarding the perimeter, while the guests partied indoors.
Although it was a mild evening, the forecast had promised heavy showers, and nobody else had ventured outdoors. Declan had ensured his guests had access to a ton of top-shelf booze and delicious food if they stayed inside. He'd also hired a classical music quartet and a DJ for later. This meant I had the garden to myself for now.
In the distance, the ocean glittered through the trees, sparkling in the moonlight. Warm, salty air tickled my overheated skin. As I passed the steaming swimming pool, I stared longingly at the turquoise water. A swim would be perfect about now.
Except, diving in wearing Saoirse's designer frock seemed like a terrible idea. The alternative was swimming in my thong and nothing else, and I wasn't drunk enough for that.
I regretted not changing my shoes, however. These stupid heels made my legs look sexy but were hard to walk in.
A heady floral scent wafted under my nose as I tipped the wine bottle back and swallowed some of the excellent red wine. The alcohol helped silence the stream of chaotic thoughts tumbling through my mind.
I loved the rose garden. Although Maud, the Kelly family matriarch, had passed away, her garden remained in bloom, helped along by an army of gardeners.
Seamus probably would have let the garden die, like her, as he'd always been jealous of the time she spent tending her precious roses. Thankfully, Declan had other ideas.
Someone had placed a stone bench at the center of the small courtyard, so I wandered over and sat down.
It didn't take long to finish the rest of the wine. The full-bodied Shiraz dulled my senses and calmed my anxious brain, quieting the voices in my head. By the time the bottle slid from my hand,the rose bushes appeared blurry and I felt more relaxed than I had in weeks.
The anxiety that plagued me most days had gone, and I no longer cared about being out here, all alone, while the rest of Ireland partied hard.
Muffled music and laughter echoed across the garden, but I tuned them out, preferring to focus on the soothing sounds of the ocean crashing onto the rocks instead.
Just as I closed my eyes, a twig crunched underfoot.
"There you are, Pixie girl."
My drunk brain stuttered. Was this Ronan or Conal? I could normally tell the difference, but things were a bit…hazyright now.
"Are you following me?" I looked up to find a twin standing over me. A small shiver ran down my spine as I realized we were completely alone out here. Shielded from view by tall hedges and a dry-stone wall.
Being alone with… Ronan? Yeah, it had to be Ronan. Conal had been wearing a pink shirt. This twin wore a pale gray one. Or maybe it was blue. My drunk brain wasn't 100% sure. Aside from that, Pixie was Ronan's nickname for me.
"Yes, I saw you stagger across the lawn and didn't like the idea of you being out here all alone." His reply surprised me. Armed guards patrolled the estate's boundaries. This was currently the safest place in Ireland, according to Declan.
"Why does it matter if I'm out here alone? Am I in danger?"
Ronan took a seat next to me on the bench, this thick thigh touching mine.
"You're drunk, so no, you're not safe here." He leaned back and stretched his arm out behind me. It was a strangely intimate gesture. Like we were an old married couple with years of history together.
In a sense, we had known each other for years. I'd grown up with him in the background. A big brother in name if not in blood. Only along the way my feelings toward him -them- had changed.
They were my barometer for what I looked for in a guy, which was why all the men I'd met since had beenless than.
"I'm not drunk." A hiccup burst free. OK, so yes, I was drunk. Very drunk.Wow. The wine had hit me hard. I definitely needed to drink more often.Ugh. I was such a lightweight these days. Pathetic.
"Yeah, Pixie, you are." He chuckled. "Being drunk suits you."
The way he looked down at me with a mixture of amusement and affection made my stomach clench. Did he think I was pretty?
"Yeah."
Ohh…Had I really said that out loud?
