Chapter 3
three
BéBHINN
“I seriously cannot believe you’re spending the entirety of your break shitting in the woods. It’ll be like Naked and Afraid but without dicks to break the monotony of foraging and walking,” Mags complained, while lounging on their sectional couch.
Margaret Morrow, or Mags to family and friends, daughter of Aileen and Charles, was gorgeous with layered waves of brunette hair, petite frame, a bullshit policy set at zero, and a cutting wit that left many a person dazed.
Mags was one of Bébhinn’s best friends, along with Gray MacGregor and Blair Barr.
Gray was leggy, blonde, and gorgeous like her mother Josephine, with an air of stoicism like her father, Thomas MacGregor.
Blair was the image of her mother, Catriona, tiny with long, bright red curls and a fiery temper to match.
Her father, Coll Barr, had his hands full with those two.
It was inevitable that they’d become best friends since their mothers were.
She and her friends made a pact that they would all go to Trinity so they could live together.
The four lived in the historic Merrion Square, a short walk to the famous St. Stephen’s Green and only a few minutes from Trinity.
Their historic brick townhouse was a stunner and just so happened to be attached to Daniel, Jonathan, and Ciar Murphy’s townhouse.
Her dad spent an ungodly amount of money to snag the properties, unwilling to consider any other arrangement.
Hugh O’Faolain wanted his daughter and grandsons close, and their friends could like it or love it. Turns out, they loved it. Who wouldn’t?
The three Sasquatches living next door should be sauntering in any minute, with girls on their arms fawning over every word their dates uttered. Bébhinn learned years ago to ignore her cousin’s revolving door of randos. Her roommates were never short on comments, though.
Blair Barr, the youngest of her friends—and the smartest—rolled her eyes and simulated gagging at Mags’s comment about shitting in the woods. They all burst into laughter. The friends did, anyway. Bébhinn was getting better, but she couldn’t bring herself to outright hilarity.
Not yet. Not when she still picked her phone up multiple times a day to text her dad. It was getting better. She was getting better, which was how she found herself finally agreeing to a house party before she left for Wales.
While Bébhinn and her friends lazed in the living room, sipping everything from margaritas to wine to her own shot of Three Wolves neat, several of their school friends were milling about. The kitchen’s center island boasted trays of hors d’oeuvres, with the sideboard holding a full bar.
She and Blair would have been satisfied ordering pizza, but Gray was obsessed with all things hospitality—she already had a few clients, thanks to her talent and her mother’s contacts from O’Connor Hospitality—and Mags was too artistic to allow pizza boxes to mar the design flow.
Like her mother and aunts, Bébhinn loved all things interior design and worked part-time at their business, Triskelion Territory Designs.
One would think her passion would also make her cringe over throwing a party with a kitchen full of cardboard pizza boxes covering every inch of space.
Maybe it was that her mom and dad grew up in Oklahoma in the States that made her more laid back.
Blair only cared about plants. Décor didn’t mean shit to her unless she was finding the perfect spot for her hundreds of green babies.
There was an excited vibe tonight, and it had nothing to do with the bougie spread. Spring break meant they were only two months away from summer break.
Gray gave her a contemplative look. “I know you’re dead set on this Welsh hike, and that Snowdonia Park is less than five hours away, but still, Bébhinn…
I don’t know. I feel like it’s still too soon to go off on your own.
” Gray sat forward, long, silky, honey-colored waves sliding over her shoulders to touch the top of her thighs.
Bébhinn glanced at her other friends, who had also sat forward with identical serious looks on their faces. She at least thought these three had finally let go of trying to talk her out of it. Clearly not.
“Go, Bé, for hell’s sake, but hire a guide. Have them stay well out of your way but be there in case of an emergency,” Mags said sans any snark.
“That sounds exactly like something Coll Barr would say,” Bébhinn shot back through her teeth, looking directly at Blair, Coll’s daughter.
Blair pursed her lips and stood, her body tight and angry. Signing, because she was born deaf, she said, “None of us are over your father’s passing, so we know damn good and well that you aren’t. It isn’t a time to be alone.”
She took a deep breath and said Bébhinn’s name out loud. Blair normally would have never taken the chance of someone outside her family and friends overhearing her speak, even though it was a testament to her determination to communicate verbally and BSL.
It was only her name, “Bébhinn,” but it showed how anxious Blair was about her friend going off on a hike alone.
She knew they were worried, and more, had every right to be.
She was about to tell them that she planned on reading her dad’s letter while she was gone and wanted the privacy of the hike to do that, when Daniel’s voice butted in.
She and her friends hadn’t even heard the lumbering know-it-alls arrive.
Daniel, Jonathan, Ciar, and their three scantily-dressed “dates.”
“Jon and I think the whole trip is ridiculous, but at least our dads plan on tracking her through a sat phone,” Daniel grinned.
“Mind your own business, O’Faolain,” Mags demanded, standing, putting her at Blair’s side.
Blair quickly signed, because they all learned BSL for her when they were little, “We only worry, but we trust our friend one hundred percent.”
“I was being a whiner that she was going to miss the whole break, but I know she’ll kick that Welsh mountain’s ass,” Gray said as she stood as well.
Unfortunately, Jonathan’s little lady, a heavily made-up Barbie wannabe with fried blonde hair, chose to join the conversation. “Oh wow, the little redheaded girl is deaf, Brit. That’s why her voice sounds so weird.” The other two ladies giggled.
She even covered her stupid mouth with three fingers to “hide” her tittering at Blair’s expense.
Bébhinn stood along with Gray, and the four of them turned to stare at the newcomers.
Jonathan’s face was bright red, and bless his sweet heart, her youngest cousin looked ready to strangle his date.
If Ciar’s jaw were any more clenched, he would surely break teeth, and Daniel… Well, Daniel was all blank-faced fury.
For Blair’s part, she kept her face devoid of emotion, though her fair, freckled skin couldn’t hide the red flush of emotion that swept across every surface not covered by clothes.
Blair had been teased as a child and had run into her share of ignorant people as an adult, but this moron was Bébhinn’s first taste of how disgustingly insensitive people could be.
It had to hurt Blair. No one was that robotic.
Mags looked ready to commit murder, while Bébhinn was as frozen as Blair. Thank God Gray was still functioning.
Gray cleared her throat, drawing attention away from Blair, and addressed their neighbors’ dates.
“If you three ladies,” she stuttered over giving them the moniker of “lady,” but continued, “would like a snack or drink, there’s a full spread just through that door.
” She pointed to the doorway that would take them to the magazine-worthy display of snacks and liquor.
Bébhinn, Gray, and Mags forced tight smiles, performing pageant waves indicating the path the women should take.
In her head, Bébhinn referred to the women as #1, #2, and #3.
They were all clones and not worth the time of individual introductions.
The original Brit, #1, clapped her hands, and squealed in excitement at Gray’s announcement saying, “I hope there’s a bartender.
I could use a Cosmo and despise making my own drinks. ”
The three idiots all giggled before rushing out of the living room. Thank Christ. Her cousins and Ciar stood frozen, looking at the four friends, probably wishing they’d never made the short trek to come to the girls’ townhouse.
Blair looked Bébhinn’s way, ignoring the men altogether, and signed, “I noticed a section of my misters in the rose garden are down. I’ll be back.”
She was partway to escaping when Jonathan touched her arm and blurted, “Blair.” He sounded as anguished over the encounter with his date as they all felt. Blair didn’t slow or acknowledge her cousin’s entreaty.
Once Blair was clear and there was no sign of the Brits returning, Bébhinn rounded on the three men.
“None of us care who you choose to screw, but for fuck’s sake, at least don’t subject us to their disgusting ignorance.
The three of us will go help Blair fix the nonexistent problem in her garden while you and your…
your dates enjoy yourselves. Text me when you’ve left.
” Their flinches were satisfying but not nearly enough.
She felt her body prickle with sweat. Her emotions were riding her hard.
“You’re lucky I don’t call Dad and tell him how your dates hurt Blair.
” It wasn’t until the words left her mouth that Bébhinn realized what she’d said.
There was no calling her dad. Not anymore.
She slammed her knuckles against her lips to hold in the agonized whimper that wanted to escape.
Before she could spin on her heel and escape with Blair, Mags hissed, “Get the fuck out,” to the men and at the same time, Gray growled, “Leave.”