On Loverose Lane (Return to Dublin Street #1)

26. Beth

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

BETH

S unday dinner was a quieter affair than usual. Elle was working on a school film project with her friends and staying for dinner at one of her friend’s houses. Luke was in Paris for a long weekend with Afonso, and Aunt Hannah and my cousins had been hit with a stomach bug that had taken all of them down except Uncle Marco, who was looking after them. That meant it was me, my parents, Aunt Ellie, Uncle Adam, Grandma Elodie, and Grandpa Clark. At twenty and eighteen years old, respectively, my cousins Will and Bray were missing out on Sunday dinners more than I was lately.

“Will has been working overtime to help pay his rent for next semester at Glasgow. I don’t think we’ll see a lot of him this year.” Aunt Ellie gave me a sad smile. “I miss him.”

Uncle Adam reached over to curl a hand over hers. “He’s promised to visit more.”

Aunt Ellie nodded but didn’t seem hopeful. “And Bray leaves for UCL in a few weeks and won’t be home until October. He’s spending a lot of time this summer with his friends since they’re all scattering across the country. I’m already feeling empty-nest syndrome.”

Brushing his lips over her temple with such tenderness it made my chest ache, Uncle Adam then whispered something in Aunt Ellie’s ear that reddened her cheeks.

I grinned down at my plate.

“They’ll come back, sweetheart,” Grandma Elodie told her daughter, oblivious to whatever shenanigans my uncle was murmuring in his wife’s ear. “You and Braden did.”

“We didn’t leave Edinburgh. Neither has Beth.”

“Maia went away for uni,” I reminded Aunt Ellie, referring to my uncle Logan’s daughter from a previous relationship. “And she came back.” Maia was a fashion buyer for Edinburgh’s most exclusive department store, Pennington’s.

“That’s true.” It seemed to brighten my aunt’s mood.

We chatted some more. My family asked about Social Queens, and I told them about the possibility of taking Aura Beauty on as a client. Mum seemed a little concerned about this and reiterated her worry that I was overworking. As we finished up dinner, I deflected her concern by asking Dad if I could talk to him in private.

This garnered curious looks from everyone else, but Dad nodded and led me out of the kitchen. I followed him to his office. While Mum’s office was light and bright with lots of white to make the books on her many shelves pop, Dad’s was moody and dark. Our interior designer created faux paneling and then painted it and the walls a rich dark blue. His desk was a sleek walnut midcentury number and his chair a contemporary button-back leather.

Dad sat on the edge of the desk, crossing his legs at his ankles, resting his hands casually at either side of his hips, while I closed the door for privacy. His body language was relaxed, but those piercing blue eyes I’d inherited were sharp with questions.

A slight nervousness had played around in my belly since arriving at my parents’, but now the sensation erupted into full- blown butterflies. The only way to get rid of them was to say what I’d come here to say. “I need a favor.”

Dad raised an eyebrow. “What kind of favor?”

“Well … I have a friend who is interested in buying one of your properties, and he’d really like to meet. Unfortunately, he tells me that you’ve knocked back all attempts to discuss the sale with him.”

To his credit, Dad appeared genuinely confused. “I haven’t knocked back a meeting with anyone recently. What property? What friend?”

“Blantyre Castle.”

Dad shook his head. “Beth, I’ve knocked back a couple of offers, but nothing recent. And certainly haven’t been approached to discuss a meeting about it.”

I scowled, wondering what the heck Callan was on about, then. “You haven’t been ignoring requests from the football player Callan Keen?”

“Since when are you friends with football players?” Dad narrowed his eyes, amusement there. “Are you dating a football player?”

“No.” I took a step toward him. “Seriously, you really haven’t knocked back a meeting with him?”

“None that I’m aware of. You know my team deals with all those inquiries. Let me ask them.” Dad suddenly frowned. “Keen? Callan Keen? Caley United Callan Keen?”

Those butterflies returned. “Aye.”

Concern gleamed in his eyes. “Beth, that family is not good news.”

“Callan’s a good guy, Dad. I went to school with him. Do you remember?”

“Vaguely.”

Vaguely.

That hurt.

I’d given up the boy I thought I’d fallen in love with as a teenager so it wouldn’t cause trouble with my parents, and Dad “vaguely” recalled I went to school with him.

“His mum and stepdad died, and Callan had to go live with his birth father. He pretty much hates him and doesn’t have anything to do with him. If that’s the family you’re referring to.”

“Gavin Urquhart?” Dad leaned forward.

“That’s him. Callan despises him. Always has. Why do you think he took his mum’s surname instead of his dad’s?”

His eyebrows rose at this news. “I see.” Dad seemed to contemplate that. “Doesn’t really surprise me, actually.”

“How do you know his dad?” I wanted to see if he’d tell me the truth.

“First … how friendly are you with this guy?”

“We’re neighbors. He moved into the flat above mine and we’ve become friends of a sort.”

“Of a sort?”

I shrugged because I didn’t know how to explain I was fake dating Callan to win over a client.

“Well … you remember I was married before I married your mum?”

I nodded.

“Gavin Urquhart was a childhood friend, and he slept with my first wife. When I met your mum, he tried to get it on with her, too, and I might have punched him.”

I grinned at the imagery. “You did not.”

Dad’s lips twitched. “He did me a favor betraying me with my first wife. He made a mistake flirting with your mum.”

My chest squeezed at that, and I blurted out with more vulnerability than usual, “I wish I could find someone who loves me the way you love Mum.”

Dad’s eyes widened ever so slightly. He pushed off his desk and crossed the room to pull me into his embrace. I went happily, wrapping my arms around him as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “I won’t accept any man who comes into your life unless I think that’s exactly how he feels for you, Beth. It’s the kind of love you deserve.”

We hugged for a few seconds longer before I reluctantly pulled away. “So … Callan?”

Dad sighed heavily. “I don’t like that he’s connected to Gavin. Urquhart did more to mess with me that I won’t get into … he’s not a man to be trusted, Beth.”

“Don’t hold that against Callan, Dad. Seriously, he really despises Gavin. And he and his company partner, Baird, the Caley goalie … it sounds like they have a good plan to renovate the castle.”

After taking a few seconds to consider, Dad nodded. “Okay. It’s not fair to hold Gavin against him. If you vouch for him, then I’ll look into it.”

Relieved, I grinned. “Thanks, Dad.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled open his office door. “When have I ever been able to say no to you?”

“Uh, that time I tried to wear a miniskirt to school in first year.”

“Well—”

“When Rachel Lang asked me to go on holiday with her family when we were fourteen.”

“That was?—”

“When you practically threatened Uncle Cole when I asked him for a tattoo when I was eighteen.” Uncle Cole was one of the best tattoo artists in the country.

“It sounds like you’re holding onto a lot of resentment,” Dad teased as we walked back into the kitchen.

Laughing, I shook my head. “Just sharing evidence that you have in fact said no to me.”

“I want to see that evidence.” Mum snorted, having overheard.

Before I could reply, my phone buzzed in my handbag, and I crossed the kitchen to pull it out. There were a bunch of work-related texts and emails that had come in over the last few hours. A text from Callan, however, distracted me from becoming too overwhelmed.

I tapped on it.

Did you ask him?

“Shoot.” I looked up at my family. “Work calls. I need to head home.”

“Already?” Grandma Elodie pouted. “We were going to have another cuppa.”

Hurrying across the room, I hugged her tight. “Sorry. I really need to deal with these.”

I embraced my pseudo-grandparents, my aunt and uncle, and my mum and dad. Before I could leave, Mum cupped my face in her hands. Worry shone from her pale gray eyes. “You take care of yourself, baby. Think about if all this success is worth it.”

“It is,” I promised her and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before hurrying from the house.

I was barely looking where I was going as I walked down Dublin Street, eyes to my phone, trying to think of the most succinct way to explain to Callan the conversation I’d had with Dad.

“If you don’t look up, you’re going to walk into a bollard.”

The voice not only made me look up but drew me to a complete halt.

Because there, standing at the bottom of the street, was Callan.

He was casual in a T-shirt and jeans, his hands in the pockets. Still, he smoldered. It was in those beautiful green eyes. I don’t think he even realized he smoldered. It came naturally to him.

No wonder he has a revolving door of women , I thought, suddenly uneasy.

Then I reminded myself I hadn’t bumped into him with another girl in a while.

“What are you doing here?” I glanced sharply over my shoulder, uphill toward my parents’ home. “Didn’t you have a game today?”

“Against Dundonald.” His mouth twisted into a grimace. “It was a draw.”

“Better than a loss.”

“Not really. That, on top of losing to Roselin in the European tournament on Thursday … it’s been a shit week in that respect.”

Seeing how troubled he was, I felt a pang of sympathy. Callan’s drive to succeed at the game wasn’t any different from my drive to succeed at my business. “You’ll get them next time.”

He smirked. “Thanks. We play Roselin again Thursday and we’re coming for them. There will be blood, sweat, and skin smeared across that fucking pitch, and it won’t be ours.”

“Good. Confidence is key.” Why did him talking about beating another team make me hot and flustered?

“Anyway, thought I’d walk you back. See how it went with your dad.”

“How do you know where my parents live?”

“It’s public knowledge your family lives on Dublin Street.”

That was actually true. We’d even had Mum’s fans show up and take photos of the front of the house. At one point, my parents considered moving when the TV show that blew up Mum’s career was all the rage. Fortunately, the fandom died down, as was inevitable, when the audience moved on to the next big thing.

I huffed. “You are the most annoyingly determined person I have ever met.”

Callan shrugged and fell into step with me. “You didn’t text me back.”

I waved my phone in his face. “I was about to, Captain.”

“Well, I’m here, saving you the trouble. Did you speak to your dad?”

“I did.” I relayed most of the conversation between us.

A deep frown marred Callan’s brow. “He’s seriously denying we reached out?”

“No,” I replied indignantly. “He said he’s unaware of it. My dad runs a mini empire. All these kinds of inquiries go through his team first. Clearly someone hasn’t passed along your request.”

He snorted like he didn’t believe me.

“My dad isn’t a liar. If he says he doesn’t know about it, he doesn’t. However, he promised to look into it.”

“We’ll see, princess.” Callan shrugged.

“Don’t you believe me?”

“I believe you believe your dad.”

“You are extremely irritating.”

“You’re no picnic either.” His gaze darted to my mouth, then to my chest, before he looked away.

Ignoring the shiver of awareness that skated down my spine, I replied dryly, “Your eyes certainly think I’m a picnic.”

Callan’s lips twitched. “I already told you I think you’re fit.”

Samuel had called me beautiful . As much as I didn’t want Samuel calling me beautiful, it was an adjective I could get on board with. Fit was not. “I know you think that’s a compliment, but it’s the kind of thing I hear men murmuring to each other in the pub. ‘Check her out, she’s well fit.’”

He chuckled at my grimace. “You’re complaining that men think you’re fit?”

“I hate the word. It’s so … impersonal and unsexy.”

“It’s not any different from being called hot.”

“Of course you don’t get it.”

“I really don’t.”

“Ugh.” I picked up my pace to get away from him, but Callan kept in stride with me.

“You don’t have to walk me home.”

“We live in the same building. I’m walking in the same direction you’re walking. And aren’t we supposed to be seen together?” He reached for my hand and clasped it tightly in his. “See, isn’t this nice?”

The fact that I’d quite like the hand-holding to be real made me sniff haughtily.

“Was that a yes? Or should I put my arm around your waist?”

“Try it and I’ll kick you in the balls.”

“And here I thought you said you were attracted to me too.”

“I am.” I grinned, and it was all teeth. “You’re fit .”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“Really? Because I find many men fit. Fit doesn’t make you special.”

Perhaps I let a wee bit too much of my hurt leak into my words because Callan fell into silence. He didn’t release his hold on me, and I could think of little else but the physical contact as we walked all the way home without another word spoken between us.

He let go of my hand to let us into our building. We strode upstairs together and then I gave him a nod before walking over to my door. I expected him to keep on walking. However, as I put my key in the lock, I heard his footsteps quicken and then his heat surrounded me as he braced his hands on either side of my door, his chest to my back.

I shivered as his lips brushed my ear. “Just for the record, princess, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

His hoarse words made me suck in a breath, and Callan’s chest pressed more firmly against my back.

“And if you ever change your mind about scratching this itch between us, I promise you’ll like the way I show you how fucking gorgeous I think you are.”

Cold air blasted over me as Callan abruptly pushed away.

I shook with need, my breathing hard and fast. His footsteps disappeared upstairs, and I finally forced myself to open my apartment door. Heart thundering in my chest, I leaned against the closed door and squeezed my eyes shut as lust flushed through my entire body.

The image of Callan moving over me, naked, hard, hot …

Don’t do it, Beth.

I needed a damn cold shower. Having never experienced such sharp, unfulfilled desire, I was surprised by how much my knees shook as I pushed off the door and forced myself to move farther into my apartment.