Chapter 11 Verity #2
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… hazy right 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 been less 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?
He snorted. "Yes, you said it out loud."
Fiery red heat burned my cheeks. I focused on a rosebush, grateful we sat in a pocket of shadow and he couldn't see me doing a brilliant impression of an overripe tomato. Why was I so lame?
I should go. Head back to my room before I embarrassed myself further.
"Sorry." I plucked at my dress, fully aware of how young and stupid I must seem to Ronan. The man who'd bedded a thousand women. Probably.
"Why are you apologizing?" He sounded genuinely perplexed.
"Because I'm drunk and you probably have better things to do than babysit me," I slurred. Fuck my life. I should never have finished the wine. Wine clearly didn't agree with me.
"Verity, don't be—" He grabbed my wrist as I stumbled to my feet, pulling me off balance in the process. I fell straight into his arms.
The spicy scent of his aftershave, the way he held me so tightly, left me light-headed. I could have blamed the wine, but really, it was the effect he had on me. Not just him.
Then a memory of me lying on a cold beach, coughing up seawater as Ronan screamed in my face, popped up. He'd been so angry. I'd never seen him that angry before.
"Pixie girl, I can't let you leave." I stared into his slate-gray eyes, marveling at how long and thick his lashes were.
His legs felt solid beneath my fleshy thighs. Like the arms around my waist, a steel band of muscle. Even if I wanted to escape, I couldn't.
But you're not mine, I said in my head. Except, once again, the words didn't stay in my head.
His lips parted, ready to tell me what I'd waited years to hear. That he wanted me as much as I wanted him. The fact I wanted his brothers as well was a minor inconvenience. One I wasn't in the mood to address right now.
Only instead of a heart-felt declaration that erased all the embarrassing moments between us, the world went to shit at that precise second.
Gunfire echoed through the trees, followed by yelling. Ronan swung me off his lap and pressed his palm over my mouth.
"Stay quiet, Pixie girl," he whispered in my ear. "We're under attack."