Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
SKYLA
“M iller will arrive in five minutes to get us and take us to the airport,” I inform Beckett. He’s sitting calmly in the chair in the corner of my bedroom, watching me as I bustle around packing up anything last minute that I might need. I’m glad he’s here because my stomach is out of control with nerves. “Did I grab my curling iron?”
“Yes, and then you double-checked it,” he says with a chuckle. “Why are you so nervous? This is a one-night trip.”
“I’m not nervous,” I lie, shaking my head, unable to meet his eyes because he’ll see right through me. “Shite, did I grab Riley’s favorite chews?”
“We have all of Riley’s things ready to go,” Beck confirms. Standing from the chair, he crosses to me, takes my shoulders in his hands, and kisses my forehead. It’s amazing how just one touch from this man calms my nervous system right down. “Breathe, Irish.”
“I don’t want to forget anything.”
“We’re going to LA, not the tundra of Siberia. If we forget something, we can find it there as long as we have our phones and a wallet.”
“I know, but?—”
His lips press to mine, effectively shutting me up, and I melt into him. He wraps his strong arms around me, hugging me while he kisses me, and it’s just the comfort I need right now.
“Talk to me, baby. What’s wrong? What do you need?”
I tip my forehead against his sternum and close my eyes. What do you need? This man is incredible. “I don’t know why I’m anxious, other than I haven’t traveled since I moved here last year, and you’re going to meet my family, and what if you don’t like them?”
“What if they don’t like me ?”
I tip my head back and frown up at him as if that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. “Well, that’s ridiculous. They’re going to love you.”
“Then there’s no problem.” He smiles and frames my face in those big hands before sealing his lips to mine again, and I whimper against his mouth. “I wish we had time for me to bend you over that bed.”
“You were inside me less than an hour ago.”
“Too long.” He rubs his nose against mine as he trails his hands down my back, sending a shiver through me. “What else are you worried about, baby?”
“Riley.” I bite my lip and glance over at the dog, who’s watching us. “My mother’s assistant is joining us, and during the fundraiser itself, she’ll stay at the hotel with Riley, but I hate leaving him with a stranger.”
“He’s going to be great, Irish. But if you freak out, he will, too. You know that. I have no doubt he’ll be just fine with your mom’s assistant. If it bothers you that much to leave him, we’ll take him to dinner with us.”
I frown and shake my head. “No, he’ll stay back. It’s too many people for him, but I love that you suggested it. Thank you.”
Beck’s hands and his deep voice have soothed me, and I take a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
“Okay, you’re right. I have everything I need. Ma’s bringing my fancy dress with her, so I don’t have anything else to pack.”
“Good.” He zips up my suitcase and carries it to the front door just as Miller pulls to a stop in the driveway. “He has the code to your gate?”
“He does, aye. Connor comes and goes from here as he pleases, and Miller is his driver and personal security.”
Beckett nods and opens the door, then carries our suitcases out to Miller, who’s already standing at the back of the vehicle, ready to load our things. The two men shake hands and nod at each other. Miller’s a massive man—bigger than Beckett—and that’s saying a lot, given how tall and broad my man is. Miller can be intimidating, which is the whole point, I suppose, but he’s always been kind to me, and I feel safe with him.
After grabbing Riley’s things, I lock the house, set the alarm, and we all pile into the giant SUV.
“How are you, Miller?” I ask as he pulls away from the house.
“I’m fine, miss. And yourself?”
“I’m well, thank you. How is my family? Everyone okay, then?”
Miller glances over at me. I’m in the passenger seat, and my two big boys are in the back.
“Everyone seems to be just fine.”
Beckett leans forward, and his hand is suddenly on my shoulder, grounding me. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m so out of sorts today. I want to see my family, and I’m content with introducing them to Beckett. I think they’ll like each other. So that’s not what’s bothering me about this trip.
I’m not a nervous flier. And although I don’t love that Riley will be alone with a stranger for part of tonight, I know he’ll be safe with Sally, Ma’s assistant. I like her very much.
There’s no good reason for my anxiety, but I can’t seem to calm myself down.
Miller drives onto a back road at the airport, then onto the tarmac, where the family jet awaits us with the door open.
“I’ll get your things,” Miller says with a nod, and before we get onto the plane, I join Beckett and Riley at the front of the car.
Beck holds his hand out, and I slide my palm into his.
“It’s going to be great,” he says with an encouraging smile, and I lead him to the steps that Riley’s already taken onto the plane.
“Good boy,” Connor says as I step inside. My eyes scan everyone, and the anxiety is already lifting as I see my family. Then my gaze lands on a smiling, smug face that makes my heart explode.
“Mik!” I run into my partner’s arms, and he lifts me off the ground, turning a circle as he hugs me close. “You’re here! What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming along?”
“Surprise, malishka,” he says into my ear as my eyes fill with happy tears. “It has been too many months.”
“And who is this, then?” Ma asks, and I pull away from Mik to introduce everyone to Beckett. “It’s a handsome guest you have here, a stór .”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. This is Beckett Blackwell, and he is my date this weekend. Beck, this is Mik, my ma and da, Maeve and Patrick, and of course, you’ve briefly met my brother, Connor.”
Beck’s already shaking everyone’s hands, and I’m taken aback again by how handsome he is in his simple blue button-down shirt and jeans, his sleeves rolled up his forearms. He trimmed his beard and must have gotten a haircut this past week.
He looks sexy, like he could milk a cow or walk a runway.
“More surprises,” Ma says as she smiles at my man. “And a happy one at that. Welcome, Beckett.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Gallagher,” Beck says.
“Oh, we’re not formal here. Please, I’m Maeve.”
Beck nods, and I take his hand in mine. He gives it a squeeze as we find seats next to each other.
“Where’s Benji?” I ask Mik as we all get buckled in and ready for takeoff.
“He had to work this weekend,” Mik replies with a shrug. “But he sends love.”
“We’ll video call him so he doesn’t feel left out,” I reply.
“How’s the ankle?” Mik asks, his blue eyes narrowing. Nothing about him has changed. He’s still lean and fit and beautiful. So painfully beautiful.
“It’s as good as it’s going to get,” I reply simply and shrug. I know he wants to know what my answer will be about London and dancing Giselle , but I’m still unsure. It’s so good to see him, though.
Ma and Da are listening but unusually quiet as they hold hands and watch the rest of us. Connor reads something on his phone, as he usually does.
Miller and Sally are in the back of the plane, and Riley’s lying at my feet.
It’s a full plane.
“You’re not in shape,” Mik says in that honest way he has that no longer offends me.
Beckett’s hold on my hand tightens. It seems Mik does offend my man.
“I think you look beautiful, a stór ,” Da says with a wink. “You look happy.”
“Thanks, Da. I am happy. And no”—I turn to Mik—“I’m not in professional dancing shape. I already told you that when you called and demanded that I do this performance with you.”
“What performance?” Connor asks, lifting his perceptive gaze at us.
“It’s one night,” Mik says, and outlines what he told me to my family. “It’s not in New York, it’s in London. For one performance. And yes, you’ll have to lose the fifteen pounds you gained, malishka. Not ten. Fifteen.”
“Keep talking to her like that and you and I are going to have a problem,” Beckett says, his voice harder than I’ve ever heard it, and I tighten my hand in his once more.
“He’s right,” I tell Beckett, as the two men have a stare down. “I’ll have to get into shape.”
“Oh, I hope the dress I brought with me fits,” Ma says with a concerned furrow of her brow. “I used your older measurements for it, not taking into consideration that you haven’t been dancing. I’m sure we can make it work. Maybe we can let it out at the hotel. Although it’s couture, so altering it would be a shame.”
“Well, I can’t lose the fifteen pounds by this evening,” I reply, immediately feeling bad for the snarky tone. “I’m sorry, I’m sure it’ll be just fine. I’m still in the same sizes.”
“Not your costume sizes,” Mik says, and Connor sighs heavily, rolling his eyes.
“With all due respect,” Beckett says to my mother as he leans forward in his seat, “what in the hell is wrong with all of you? Skyla’s absolutely stunning, just as she is.”
“Beck,” I say softly, rubbing my hand up and down his spine. “It’s all right.”
“No.” He shakes his head and looks over at me, his dark eyes full of indignation. “It’s not okay for anyone to comment on your or anyone’s size, Irish.”
“Irish?” Connor asks, but we all ignore him.
“I’m the one who has to lift her in the air,” Mik insists, his stubborn face in a scowl.
“Then I guess you’d better hit the gym because I have no trouble at all lifting her and carrying her wherever the hell she wants to go.”
Da’s eyebrows wing up. Ma presses her lips together, trying not to smile.
And Connor laughs.
“I’ve been saying this shite for years,” my brother says, running his hand down his face. “Finally, someone agrees with me.”
“I get that you have a job to do,” Beckett says to Mik as the two men glare at each other. Ma winks at me. I can tell she likes my man. “But it’s not her job, not anymore. I won’t have her hungry, or starving herself, or hating any inch of her gorgeous body because she feels loyal to you and obligated to perform with you one last time. You’ll speak to her with respect, or you won’t speak to her at all.”
The plane is utterly silent as Mik glares at Beckett, then he turns to me.
“I like him.”
Da laughs and leans over to pat Beck on the shoulder. “Aye, as do I. What do you do, Beckett?”
Beckett tells my family about his dairy operation, his guest ranch, and how his family has been a mainstay in Bitterroot Valley for so long. My parents listen, interested, and it makes me proud that they don’t for even one minute insinuate that Beckett might not be good enough for me, simply because he doesn’t come from the same economic background as my family.
“I respect a family-run business backed by a strong work ethic,” Da says when Beckett pauses. “Tell me more about the guest homes you rent.”
Even Connor leans in, listening. Ever the businessman.
When anyone discusses hospitality around my family, that’s all they want to talk about. And honestly, I don’t mind because I’m proud of Beckett.
“I have to interrupt,” I say, and when I turn to Beckett, he nods. “Beck has shown them to me, and I have to say that they’re just brilliant. Eight tiny A-frame homes face the most gorgeous view of the mountains. Honestly, if I stayed there, I’d never leave to do other activities because he’s had them decorated so sweetly, such that they’re cozy and luxurious, and with that view, he can’t go wrong.”
“You should be in charge of all of my marketing, Irish,” Beck says before planting a kiss on my temple.
“Oh, I’d love to see them,” Ma says. “We’ve been to Bitterroot Valley a couple of times to see Skyla, of course, but we haven’t been able to get out to see the scenery. Perhaps we’ll have to rent one of those cabins the next time we’re in the area.”
The thought of that excites me.
“You should. And he has chickens.”
Connor blinks at me. “So?”
“I love the chickens.”
Beckett’s laughing beside me. “Out of all the animals on my ranch, I think it’s hilarious that you love those chickens so much.”
“They’re hard workers,” I insist, lifting my chin. “And the eggs are delicious.”
Mik’s eyes are narrowed on me as he listens.
“My malishka is no longer a city girl.”
Lifting an eyebrow, I tip my head to the side. “No, I guess I’m not.”
“And one day,” Da says, “you’ll tell us the real reason you left the city. I know it’s not just because of your ankle, a stór .”
I feel Beckett’s eyes on me as I nibble on my lower lip.
“I can’t dance,” I reply with a shrug. “And I was tired of the city.”
“We’re beginning our descent into Los Angeles,” the pilot says through the speakers, interrupting the conversation and taking the pressure off me.
No, I never told my parents about The Arsehole.
There’s no reason for them to worry. They were so far away, and there was nothing for them to do.
“What are you working on next, Connor? Are you still in the middle of the rehab project in Paris?”
“That’s wrapping up,” my brother says. “I have a few things happening. After this trip, I’ll be in Miami for a few weeks, then back to Dublin for a bit.”
“And when will you be rebuilding the ski resort in Bitterroot Valley?”
My brother’s eyes narrow on me, but I flash him a bright smile.
“I never said I’d be doing that, and you know it.”
“You didn’t have to tell me. I know you. It’s exactly the kind of project that Gallagher Hotels would take on. Also, as long as you promise not to be a complete shite, you could date Billie. You bought your own house and everything.”
“What?” Beckett asks as Connor growls and runs his hand down his face.
“I’m just saying it’s something to think about.”
“Who’s Billie, then?” Ma asks.
“Beckett’s sister, and she’s one of my best mates,” I reply, still holding Connor’s gaze. “She’s gorgeous and smart and lovely, and she owns the bookshop that recently opened.”
“Why couldn’t I have been an only child?” Connor asks my parents, who both chuckle in response.
“Now, where would the fun be in that?” Ma asks him, reaching over to ruffle his hair. She doesn’t care that he’s almost forty. “It seems I need to spend more time in Montana.”
“No,” Connor says, shaking his head. “Not on my account.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but he doesn’t back down.
Not that he ever would anyway.
“Do I need to have a conversation with you?” Beckett asks Connor.
“No.”
Grinning, I sit back in my seat as the plane lands and lean my head on Beckett’s shoulder. I don’t know what I was worried about. Beckett’s won them all over without difficulty. This is already turning out to be a fun trip.
* * *
The only thing I have left to do is to put the dress on. My hair is washed and dried and curled in big waves, flowing down my back and over my shoulders. My full face of makeup is perfect, including the fake lashes. Ma offered to hire a glam squad to come into my suite and get me ready, but I did this for a living. No one did my hair and makeup when I had to get ready for a performance. It soothes me.
Besides, Beck remembered to bring a little Bluetooth speaker that he bought for me, since Birdie took hers home with her. He set me up here in this massive bathroom with my music, then left me to get ready.
I can’t wait to see what he’s wearing this evening. He’s always beyond sexy, but seeing him in a suit might send me over the edge, and I won’t want to leave this suite.
I took a peek at the gown Ma brought, and I have to admit, it’s magnificent. The long, sleek column of champagne-colored lace with a high neckline and no sleeves, the dress shimmers and will make me feel amazing.
As long as it fits.
If it doesn’t, I’ll be going in jeans and a jumper.
“Beckett?” I call out as I fasten a gold and diamond earring in my ear. “Do you mind helping me with this dress?”
I can hear him walking through the suite, and when he fills the doorway, I gasp.
Bloody hell. I was absolutely right.
The man fills out a black suit like it’s his fecking job. And when my gaze climbs to his eyes, I find him staring at me with pure hunger.
“For fuck’s sake, you have to warn me, Irish.”
“Warn you of what?”
He moves to me, wraps his arms around my waist, over the belted hotel robe, and lowers his lips to press them against my forehead.
“I don’t want to mess you up,” he whispers, “but fuck me sideways, I want to mess you up. ”
Grinning, I let my hands skim up his chest, along his lapels. “You’re so handsome in this suit, Beck.”
“No one’s even going to know I’m there,” he says with a grin. “And I’ll be in prison before the night is over because I’ll have to kill every single man who looks at you tonight.”
“You haven’t even seen the dress yet,” I remind him. “It could look like?—”
“Doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head, and his fingertips drift up and down my back. “You’re a goddamn vision, baby. God, your hair is every fucking fantasy I’ve ever had in my life, and all I want to do is get my hands in it.”
“It took me a long time to make it look like this,” I remind him. “So please try to restrain yourself for just a little while. Later, it’s all yours.”
“When we get back here”—he pulls the robe apart and presses his lips to my bare shoulder—“I’m going to fucking devour you.”
“Whoa.” I press my hands to his chest again. “Hold that thought. I have to get dressed, or else I won’t get dressed at all, and we have to leave soon.”
“Fine.”
Pleased that he likes what he sees so far, I turn to the closet with a grin and pull the dress off the hanger. I return to the bathroom, where I shed the robe, step into the dress, and wiggle it over my hips.
“I hope it fits,” I mutter as Beckett moves behind me to help. “The color is divine. Dior is always a good idea, and Ma never misses, but?—”
“Stop worrying,” he murmurs and kisses the back of my head. “Jesus, it’s all buttons. No zipper.”
“I know.”
The entire back, from the top of my neck to just above my arse, is a row of tiny satin buttons.
“My fingers are too fucking big for this.”
“No, they aren’t, there’s a hook.”
I run back to the garment bag that the dress came in and find the hook in the bottom, then return to him.
“This helps and makes it faster. You just?—”
“I see it,” he murmurs, and I watch in the mirror as his eyebrows pull together in concentration. “Whoever came up with this hook thing is smart as hell.”
I can feel him start to pull the loops over the buttons from just above my arse. He brushes his knuckles over my spine, making goose pimples rise on my skin, and it suddenly feels hot in here .
“Mmm.” He kisses my back, and I squirm. “Hold still, baby. Fuck me, I can’t wait to get you out of this dress later.”
“I’ll be for stripping you out of that suit.” I smile softly as he hooks another button, then places another kiss. Only Beckett can turn helping me with a dress into a sexy game.
“You can keep the shoes on,” he says, almost conversationally as if he’s not driving me mad. “And don’t for a heartbeat think that I didn’t notice that you’re completely bare under here.”
“A bra and panties would ruin the lines,” I reply softly. “And there’s material strategically placed to cover me up.”
He’s only about a third of the way up my back because he keeps pausing to kiss me and brush his fingers over me. He’s driving me out of my bloody mind.
“I’m going to worship you tonight.” Gods above, I love it when his voice gets rough like this. I’m already wet, and I have to survive several hours before I can come back to our suite with Beck and lose myself in him. “I’m going to feast on that beautiful pussy you just covered up. I’m going to kiss you and fuck you until your legs shake and every fucking person in this hotel knows my name.”
“For feck’s sake, Beck.” I swallow thickly, leaning forward against the vanity. My puckered nipples are sore against the rough material of the dress, and I’m uncomfortably wet. “I can’t walk around all night like this.”
“Like what, Irish?”
“Wet and aching and needy.”
He growls and licks the side of my neck as he continues to loop the buttons closed. “That’s exactly how I want you, baby. Needy for me.”
He’s at my neck now, and I’m partly relieved that the dress fits, yet so turned on that I can’t breathe.
“Bloody hell, the things you say.”
“You’re gorgeous,” he says as he slips the hook on the vanity and catches my gaze in the mirror. He’s so tall, so broad behind me. And his hands come around me, looping around my waist as he presses a kiss to my temple. “Now, we’d better go before I rip this expensive-as-fuck dress off your body.”
“We only have to stay for a couple of hours,” I promise him, but he shakes his head and grins at me.
“No, we’ll stay until what you need to do is done. And then you’re all mine.”
I’m already his.