Chapter 5 #3
He blinks back at me, his long dark lashes thicker than they have any right to be. “Well, I don’t need any help sleeping,
Stretch. Other lasses a lot less fussy than you have already tired me out proper.”
His eyes lick up and down my body, and it takes me all of three seconds to pick up what he’s saying before I jerk back with
disgust. “I’m not trying to help you sleep like that,” I sputter, my face heating with mortification. “I’m trying to help you with everything else.”
“What the hell are you on about?”
“I mean my family.” I seethe, my hackles fully raised now that he’s being completely inappropriate. “I thought I could use
this plane ride to debrief you on everyone you’re going to meet and interact with in Colorado, but you don’t seem to give
a shit. You’re too cool to care about the fact that I stuck my neck out for you with the people I love more than anything
in the world, and so help me, Wolf, if you fuck this up and disrespect them or cause problems for me or make a scene or start
a fight, I will be the one getting assault charges because I will . . . kick your ass.”
My voice comes out in a strange, squealy tone that I’ve never really heard before. But then again, I’m not sure anyone has
ever made me as frustrated as this boy beside me. I’m normally someone who keeps the peace, not stirs things up.
But Wolf Reilly makes me crazy.
His face twitches into something I think . . . no . . . couldn’t be . . . is he . . . ? Is he . . . laughing at me? I mean, he’s not fully laughing, so it’s hard to tell, but whatever his face is doing is certainly not the permanent scowl
I’ve grown accustomed to over the past year.
This motherfucker.
The absolute audacity of this asshole cracking a grin over my emotions is enough to make me want to scream into my gay pride ally neck pillow.
With a growl, I turn away from him in my seat and open my plane window shutter to stare into the dark abyss as this tin can
I’m trapped in with an infuriating Irish boy continues catapulting us over the ocean. “How you and your sister can be so completely
different is really something that should be studied by science,” I murmur under my breath. “Cliona is cool and fun and open-minded.
She loves talking and pestering me with questions about my life back home. She certainly would never sit on a ten-hour plane
ride next to me and not utter a single word. Or pretend not to know me for years at a fucking time.”
After a long pause, Wolf releases a heavy sigh beside me. “What do you want me to know?”
“Nothing. You’re clearly all good. You know everything.” I frown back over at him. “Good luck in America. I hope you have
a great trip.”
He levels me with an unamused look. “Just get on with it, Stretch. I know you want to talk, and I’ll sit here and listen.”
My eyes narrow as he stares back at me expectantly, waiting for me to grace him with an answer. Part of me wants to be stubborn
and give him nothing. After all, he all but admitted that he went out of his way to avoid me this whole time. But the better
part of me knows that the more informed he is, the stronger chance I have of this all working out. So, with one deep breath,
I pull my phone out and open my gallery of photos to give him the Fletcher family 411, complete with visual aids.
“You’re going to be living on what’s called Fletcher Mountain.
It’s my uncle Wyatt’s property. Wyatt is one of four brothers, my dad is the oldest. Wyatt is super passionate about eco-friendly, sustainable living.
It’s ninety-five percent of what he does with the Fletcher Brothers Construction business that my grandpa started.
Wyatt is married to Trista, your new boss and the owner of Mount Millie.
They have a daughter named Stevie, who is three and a half years old and has the cutest curly brown hair I’ve ever seen on a kid. ”
“Should I be taking notes?” Wolf asks, and I look up from the photo of Stevie on my phone and see a little spark of humor
in his eye.
I glare back at him. “Can I continue?”
His nostrils flare, but he thankfully lowers his eyes to my phone again.
“This is my uncle Calder. Don’t let the tattoos scare you—he’s a total softie. He lives on the mountain too. He just got married
to my stepmom Cozy’s best friend, Dakota. They eloped to Vegas, despite my constant begging them for a traditional wedding.
I’m not surprised they did their own thing since Dakota was married before, and Calder cared more about getting a new cat
than having a fancy wedding, but I’m bitter about it still. I set them up, and I feel like they owed it to me to have a wedding,
but whatever, it’s not up to me, I guess.”
“You matchmake your uncles too?” Wolf asks, his eyes blinking back at me. “So, the stuff you did at uni . . . the dating events
at Mulligans . . . that wasn’t unusual behavior for you?” I can’t tell if he’s impressed or thinks I’m a nutjob.
“That was just me passing some time, Wolf,” I reply with a coy shrug. “I matched my dad and Cozy when I was just eleven years
old. This is my life’s work.”
“Christ,” Wolf murmurs under his breath.
“Do you have a problem with falling in love?”
“No,” he bites back, his tone deep. “I just think some people aren’t built for love. Some of us are just better off in scrums.”
I frown back at him. “Oh yes, the rugby hugging thing.”
He blinks back at me in horror.
I purse my lips, feeling proud that I knew that term. “Well, to me, a scrum looks like a helping hand, which is very similar
to matchmaking.”
He huffs out a noise of discontent. “Did any of your uncles ask for a helping hand?”
“No.”
“My point exactly.”
“Can I finish, please? I still haven’t told you about my uncle Luke, and he’s one of my best success stories, so if you could
listen and not judge, that would be great.”
Wolf sits back and shakes his head, silently allowing me to continue as I pull up wedding photos from two years ago.
“Luke and Addison are on Fletcher Mountain as well and expecting a baby boy any day now. I had a big hand in their marriage-of-convenience-turned-real-life
wedding a couple years ago. I’m thrilled that I’ll be just next door to them for whenever the baby decides to come. I know
Stevie and this new baby are just my cousins, but my uncles are the big brothers I never had, so I feel like an aunt to them.
Seeing Fletcher Mountain turn into a growing family compound makes my romance-loving heart swell with pride.”
“Wait, did you say you’re going to be living on the mountain too?” Wolf asks, his eyes wide and laser-focused on me.
“Um . . . yes. My dad and Cozy have been building a getaway cabin up there this past year. And since I’m working for the rescue
facility this summer—”
“You’re working at the rescue center also?” His eyes are the size of saucers now.
“Yes. Did Cliona not tell you any of this?”
“No, she did not.” He scowls down at the floor, muttering something under his breath.
“Your Aunt Trista mentioned you doing some social media stuff, but I didn’t know that meant you were actually working there and living there.
Christ.” He murmurs the last part under his breath, but I hear it loud and clear.
“I’m sorry, but do you have a problem working with me?”
“No problem,” he bites back and turns forward, revealing that muscle in his square jaw again. “No problem at all.”
“You certainly look like you have a problem.” I huff indignantly. However, it feels good to make this guy uncomfortable. He’s been making me
squirm my whole senior year, and maybe even before then, whenever I’d see him on campus. I didn’t see him in our dorm room
that often, but he frequented Mulligans a lot, like I did—not that he ever talked to me. He was always just sort of there
in the background. Watching. Judging.
“I don’t have a problem,” he growls and then asks, “Why aren’t you working for your father’s company? I’m sure he’d give ya
a corner office and your own assistant who’ll fetch you a fancy coffee whenever ya like.”
I glare at his tone but wince at the fact that he’s not far off. “For your information, my plan is to work for my dad’s franchise development company in Boulder eventually. My degree in business marketing will serve me well
there. But I need to get three years’ field experience first. It’s his policy. In the end, it’s still nepotism, but at least
I’ll have some understanding of how other businesses operate before coming in to work for him.”
“So, your idea of field experience is to work for another family member’s business?” Wolf asks with a pointed look.
“Experience is experience, okay?” I bite back defensively.
“My family are all very entrepreneurial, and I like to help. Your parents have a family business too, right?” I ask, tilting my head to eye him with a challenge.
“Cliona told me they run a corner shop. That’s like what we Americans call a convenience store.
Did you really never consider taking it over for them after college? ”
“Sure, for a bit, but it’s not the kind of place you need a degree from Trinity to run.” Wolf’s face twitches with irritation.
“And I’m not exactly eating from the same silver platter you are, Stretch. The only reason I even got into Trinity was because
of my grades and my rugby skills. So don’t you go trying to compare your situation with mine. We are very different people.
I have had to work for every single scrap that’s been tossed at me in life.”
His tone is harsh and dismissive and pokes at a part of my past that I’ve struggled with before. And I hate even saying that
in my head because it’s giving “poor little rich girl.”
But . . . it’s weird growing up with money. In high school, kids would often look at me differently for the privileges I had,
which was silly because it wasn’t like I was driving a Lamborghini or carrying a Prada backpack. I drove a Jeep truck, something
sturdy that handles well in snow. And at best, my wardrobe was lululemon leggings or the occasional SKIMS—nothing outrageously
expensive or designer by any stretch. And yes, my dad has a private plane, but he uses it for work more than leisure. And
I’m far from the only kid whose parents have a ski home in Aspen.
God, I really do sound like a poor little rich girl.
And I hate that because I’m fully aware that first-class flights aren’t the norm. I’ve learned that taking vacations every
year is a luxury, or even having an air-conditioned garage. It’s crazy the little things you just assume are normal until
life shows you otherwise.
Like having a married lesbian for a mother or three uncles all living on a mountain compound together.
The point is, I’m aware of my privilege and insulated life. It’s why I thought going to Ireland and broadening my horizons would help me branch out a bit and see the world differently. Maybe figure out how to make new friends.
However, all Dublin did was point a mirror in my face that said: Everly, sometimes you’re just “too much” for people to truly accept.
My stomach twists with the fact that Wolf so easily sees that in me without even knowing my upbringing. I guess I can be grateful
he’s making his judgmental remarks to my face instead of behind my back like people in high school did . . . painful as it
might be.
I lick my lips and hit him with a challenging glower. “You’re right, I’ve lived a pretty good life. And I’m lucky because
my family is super supportive. I know going to college abroad was a big expense, and I’m grateful for the experience. But
maybe my gratefulness is why I want to work for family. I like the idea of helping someone I know and love, and I guess I’m
fortunate again because I have that opportunity. But that exact opportunity is working out well for you so far, isn’t it?”
His brows pop upward as he stares back at me with that frustratingly unreadable expression. His eyes trace over my face like
he’s committing it to memory. The dark smolder in his brown gaze makes my stomach flutter, and I struggle to put a damper
on that feeling because being attracted to my best friend’s twin brother is not the vibe I’m going for this summer. Especially
one who so clearly despises me.
And honestly, fuck him. He’s not going to point at me like I’m the privileged brat when his connection to his sister is what
got him on this flight and gave him the chance to rehab his image. The one he screwed up by turning into a rager on the field.
Life is all about connections, and he’s not completely innocent in that.
“I suppose you’re right,” he replies through clenched teeth, his eyes staring right at my lips. “I guess we’ll just have to make the best of this summer.”
With a heavy sigh, he turns away, yanking his hood back up over his head as he folds his arms tight across his chest like
he’s rebuilding that wall that was between us all this time. His voice is deep and rumbly when he adds, “Thanks for the family
connection, Stretch. I’ll try my best not to embarrass you.”
He turns his back to me, and I release the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding as I wonder for the hundredth time how
I’m going to get along with this rugby boy I’m saddled with for the summer.
I’m usually pretty good at figuring out what makes people tick. I consider myself an empath of sorts, which is what makes
me so good at matchmaking. But Conri Reilly is a horse of a different color. I don’t even know who I’d match him with if I
had to pick someone. No one back at Trinity comes to mind.
Not that matchmaking is what this summer will be about anyways. I’ll be working full-time and enjoying family time. Certainly
not focusing on a burly Irish boy who hides under a big chip on his shoulder.
Am I curious about that something deep and a bit scary that I see in him? Yes. Am I slightly determined to find out what that
something is? Yes.
But that’s not what Cliona meant when she asked me to look after her brother. He’s not a project for me to fix or someone
I should be determined to make like me by the end of summer. That’s not what the next three months will be all about. Just keep reminding yourself of that, Everly.