“I didn’t intentionally leave you out, but I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”
“Viv came to Ireland to study and to get away from the paparazzi in L.A.,” Ash explains. “It’s not something she wants to publicize, which is why she planned to keep it quiet.”
“I don’t believe it,” Cath whispers. Her hand is clasped to her chest. “But I see it now. You look so much like her!”
I’m sure she’s being polite because my hazel eyes and brown hair are inherited from my dad, but I got my height and my curves from Mom. “I didn’t mean to deceive anyone,” I quietly admit. “And I apologize if I’ve caused any offense.”
“Oh, honey. No.” Cath gets up, giving me a quick hug. “There’s no need to apologize. I just wish I’d known Lauren Mills’s daughter was coming for dinner. I’d have taken out the fancy china.”
The look of regret on her face, combined with her words, breaks the sudden tension, and everyone bursts out laughing.
They ask me a few polite questions after that while I shoot off a message to Mom. She’s an early riser, so she should be awake in an hour or two. I plan to call her and put Cath on the phone. I’m sure she’ll get a huge kick out of that, as Mom will when I explain.
The rest of the men get up to help Dillon with the cleanup after dinner, and I trail Ash out to the large orchard at the back of her house.
“I had no idea Ma was a closet Lauren Mills fan or I would’ve warned you,” she says, lighting up a cigarette.
“It’s okay. At least it’s out in the open now. I didn’t feel comfortable lying to your family. Especially when they’ve been so nice to me.” I trail my fingers along the bark of the apple trees as we walk between them, wrapping my cardigan more tightly around my torso. A light breeze wafts through the orchard, sending chills down my spine. “I think I hurt Ronan’s feelings though.”
“Ro needs to toughen up. He’s too sensitive sometimes.”
“I like that about him. Too often men are told they must be strong. What’s wrong with showing vulnerability?”
“You need to speak to him.” She slants me a pointed look, before leaning back against one of the trees, blowing smoke circles into the air.
“Speak to who?” someone familiar asks, lifting all the tiny hairs on my arms.
“This is a private conversation, Dil. Butt out.”
“Chloe wants you to push her on the swing,” Dillon replies.
“C’mon.” Ash stubs her cigarette out on the tree, gesturing for me to come with.
“Don’t let Shane see you doing that.” Dillon smirks. “He’ll probably have a heart attack.”
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she says with a cheeky grin.
“I want to speak to the princess alone,” he says, earning an instant growl from me.
“Dillon. Please.” Ash harrumphs. “Would it kill you to be nice?”
“I’m trying to play nice, and you’re getting in my way.” He gives her a gentle shove. “Shoo. I’ll escort her highness to you when we’re done.”
“You’re insufferable,” I huff, folding my arms more tightly around myself as a blast of cold air sweeps past me, blowing strands of my hair into my face.
“You want me to kick him in the nuts?” Ash offers.
“It’s okay. I can handle Dillon,” I reply, brushing knotty hair out of my face.
Ash wiggles her fingers, wandering off.
“Is that right?” Dillon lounges against the tree Ash just vacated, crossing his feet at the ankles. The devilish glint in his eye, combined with his lazy, lopsided sexy smile, does weird things to my insides, and I’m questioning my sanity in agreeing to be left alone with him. Honestly, this guy’s facial expressions should be outlawed in all four corners of the globe.
“What do you want?” I want to minimize my time out here with him alone. Number one, because I don’t trust myself with him, and two, it’s fucking freezing and it feels like my toes are turning blue.
“That’s a loaded question.” Flashing me a panty-melting smile, he lights up a joint, as if he has all the time in the world.
“C’mon, Dillon. I’m freezing my ass off here.”
Startled eyes meet mine. He pushes off the tree, stalking toward me, and I gulp at the look of determination on his face. “Hold this.” He thrusts the joint at me, and I frown. He cocks his head to one side. “It’s not going to bite.”