I recalled Lucy’s words from so many weeks ago, when we were in the taxi, just before I’d hoisted her to my shoulders and she’d subjected me to street meat. It was something about finding beauty in strength. A sentiment I’d rejected at the time, but which made a great deal more sense now, faced with her weak relation.
My cousin surveyed me for a moment, confusion etched in the way her forehead wrinkled. “What has gotten into you? I thought you despised Ronan?”
“He’s not so bad.” I glanced at the ceiling, deciding and saying the words at the same time.
If Ronan had been the one responsible—as Lucy had claimed—for keeping her protected from the influence of those awful people, giving her a loving home, support, keeping her safe, then I supposed I could do better than my constant badgering.
“I never thought I’d hear you say those words.” She was all astonishment. “You’ve always called him an ape.”
“Apes aren’t all bad.” I shrugged. “They’re loyal and strong, they take care of their own. He acts without thinking, takes risks, wears his heart on his sleeve, allows his emotions to overtake good sense. But perhaps . . .” I stared over her shoulder, my attention caught on a shiny, rainbow sequin dress, hanging on a return rack.
“Perhaps what?” Eilish prompted, trying to follow my line of sight.
I felt my mouth curve with an unbidden smile, because I was going to buy the dress for Lucy. Rules and decency be damned. Somehow I was going to convince Ronan Ape Fitzpatrick I was worthy of his sister.
“Perhaps, my dear cousin, good sense is overrated.”
Chapter Eighteen
@LucyFitz Simon Cowell is my weird celeb crush. There, I said it.
@Anniecat to @LucyFitz I always suspected high-waisted slacks put the float in your boat ;-)
@LucyFitz to @Anniecat It’s actually the twinkle in his eye. Makes me wonder what he’s thinking…
*Lucy*
“I suppose it won’t be long before we hear the pitter-patter of little feet,” Mam said to Annie as we sat in the sauna in our swimming costumes—sweating—because apparently it was good for the skin.
It was the day before the wedding and we were at the K Club, a gigantic period hotel and golf course in Kildare, where both the ceremony and reception were being held.
Annie cast Mam a smile and responded, “Maybe give me a couple years to enjoy being a newlywed first, Jackie.”
I grinned, so proud of my soon-to-be sister-in-law. She’d been so meek and shy when she first began seeing Ronan, but now she’d really come into her own, and she had absolutely no reservations about trying to put my mother in her place.
“Oh, just you wait. You’ll be pregnant before the honeymoon is through,” Mam went on, refusing to give up the subject.
“Mam!” I hissed. “For God’s sake, leave it out. She still needs to get through the wedding day first.”
I might have overreacted. I’d been tense for nearly a month. Seeing Sean two nights ago and being unable to even speak to him had made everything exponentially worse. I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Annie shrugged and gestured to Orla and Marie, who had also joined us for our spa day. “It’s fine. These two have already been on my case about babies for months now, so I’m used to it.”
Marie, the long-term girlfriend of one of Ronan’s teammates, smiled kindly. “We’re trying to give you some friendly encouragement, that’s all.”
“Exactly,” said Orla. “And think how beautiful your kids will be. I can just imagine those big gorgeous Bambi eyes on a little girl.”
“Too true,” Mam chirped happily.
Staring at my toes through the steam, I huffed a breath, rubbing a tight spot between my shoulders. “Man, I kind of feel sorry for this kid. She hasn’t even been conceived yet and the expectation of beauty is already being saddled on her.”
Okay, so I was being a bit of a sour chops. I wasn’t normally such a grump, but the lack of resolution with Sean was wearing me down. I was straddling the line of being loyal to my brother (which I wasn’t) and being more than friends with Sean (which I wasn’t, not really). I wanted both, but couldn’t have either. My brain felt like it was being torn in two.
I hadn’t heard from Sean since the night of the hen party. I’d texted him three times and he hadn’t answered. I told myself it was for the best. Because it was for the best.
Too bad my heart didn’t agree.
Also, and just keeping it real here, I needed bedroom action, some kind of a release, but it had to be from Sean. The thought of allowing anyone else to touch me sent my stomach rolling with revulsion.