* * *
Once outside, I climb into my car and just as I’m about to leave, my phone rings. I glance at it. Mom. I frown, feeling guilty that I’ve been meaning to not only call her, but also get off my ass and go visit her. She’s a four-hour drive away, and until recently, I managed to do that drive once a month with no problem. Then my career took off and there was always something that took higher priority. That sounds awful, especially considering how close we are to the anniversary of Dad’s death.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, putting the phone on speaker so I can drive. “I’ve been meaning to call you,” I mumble, sheepishly.
She laughs. “You’re always meaning to call me, Ben. I was starting to get worried about you. Is everything okay?” she asks, concerned.
“Yeah, fine. I’ve just been so busy with work and stuff…” My voice trails off, because they just feel like weak excuses…and if I’m honest, they are. How hard is it to call your own mother once in a while?
“You don’t need to explain it to me,” she says, reading my thoughts. “Just call me every now and then. Or come and visit. If not for me, then do it for Josh and Jess. And Grammy.”
“God, I’m such a bad son,” I mumble, feeling terrible. “I’m sorry, Mom. Okay, I’ll come visit you soon. Hell, you know what?” I say, a wave of determination hitting me. “I’ll come now. I’ll stay in Vegas, visit Grammy and then I’ll visit you guys on the drive back home.”
“You don’t have to come now, Ben, I just—”
“No, honestly, it’s perfect,” I cut in, my mind already made up.
It really is perfect. It makes so much sense to do this now, especially with Siobhan here. Rory will be busy getting his proposal just right, and I still have to organize a few things for his tour. Not to mention my other clients, who I’ve been neglecting a little bit lately. Besides, I love visiting my family, and I’m not ashamed to say it.
I’ve always been close to my mom and siblings, and don’t get me started on Grammy. I used to spend so much time with them when I was based in L.A., then I got this job. Now, I travel a lot and my time suddenly got all chewed up. I need another ten hours in the day just to get it all done.
“Well, good,” Mom says, sounding happy, “It’ll be great to see you. Don’t change your mind either, because the kids will be crushed, and Grammy too,” she warns.
I chuckle, because I don’t want to get on Grammy’s wrong side.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say to her.
I press ‘End’ and then call Rory, putting him on speaker.
“Hey, thanks for the pornographic screen saver, you little fucker. Is everything okay?” he asks.
I laugh so hard at his warm greeting. “Sure, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to see my mom for a few days. It’ll get me out of your hair while your sister is here, and I haven’t seen my family in ages.”
“Great idea,” Rory says. “Never lose touch with your family.” He breathes out, sounding relieved.
“Try not to be so obvious about how much you don’t want me around your sister.”
“Sorry, it’s nothing personal,” he says. “It’s just that I know you, and I’ve seen how many women you go through. Sometimes, I don’t even think you realize what you do to them, and I don’t want her hurt, you know? You’re a good friend, but she’s my little sister. You’d be the same, right?”
“Um, I guess. Thanks,” I mutter, frowning. “I’ll try not to take offense at that. I’ll be gone for a day or two, so if you need me, you might have a bit of trouble getting hold of me.”
I hang up before he can add to the conversation, his words putting me in a foul mood. I usually don’t let what other people think get to me, but I do care about what Rory thinks of me. He’s the one person that usually gets me. I shake my head and push it from my mind, and then head home to pack.
At least, I thought he understood me.
* * *
Why I thought driving to Vegas was a good idea at seven o’clock on a Sunday evening, I have no idea. I’m not going to arrive until after eleven, which means to see Grammy and Mom, I’ll probably need two nights there. I rub my neck and yawn, fighting off another wave of fatigue.
I’ve done this trip plenty of times before, but tonight for some reason, it’s dragging. I’ve stopped a few times already to stretch my legs, but it hasn’t really helped much. Finally, I’m almost there. I pull into a little gas station just out of Vegas to fill up with gas and get myself a drink. Just as I’m about to take off again, my phone rings.
I smile when I see Siobhan’s name.
“Hello?” I say.
“Hey, Ben. It’s me.” My mouth creeps into a grin when I hear that deliciously raspy Irish accent. “It’s, uh, Siobhan,” she adds hastily. Because, of course, I have that many Irish girls calling me late at night.
“Siobhan?” I question, acting like I don’t know a girl of that name
“Are you winding me up, Ben?” she says, all feisty. “Siobhan. We met at the airport today? You picked me up and tried like, forever to get in my pants? That Siobhan? Onto the next girl already, are we? You dirty little bastard!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s with the insults already?” I ask. “Calm down, my little Irish firecracker. I was only yanking your chain. Of course, I know who you are. Holy fuck, you’re as bad as your brother for taking the bait, aren’t you? Must run in the family.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry,” she says, all sheepish now. “I’m just a little jet-lagged is all. I’m very sweet, really.”
“Right, I’m sure you are. Anyway, what’s up?” I ask.
“Remember you said if I needed anything, you’d gladly help me out?” she says, her voice getting a little high-pitched at the end, like she’s nervous.
“Yes,” I say slowly. “What’s going on?”
“Well, I need your help,” she says. “Like now.”
“Okay, can you elaborate on that?” I ask, still no closer to understanding what she wants from me.
“Could you come and pick me up?” she says.
“Right, well that might be a bit of a problem, considering I’m almost in Vegas,” I say apologetically.
“Vegas?” she repeats, excitedly. “But, that’s where I am.”
“What? How? Why are you in Vegas?” I ask, confused.
“Why are you?” she retorts.
“Technically, I’m not there yet,” I chuckle. “And I asked first. On second thought, do I even want to know why you’re there?”
“Probably not.” She pauses for a moment. “Can I explain when you get here?”
“Sure, fine. Just text me the address, and I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I assure her. “I’m still about half an hour away.”
“Okay,” she says, sounding relieved. “Thank you for this. I owe you.”
“I’ll just add it to the list, huh?” I tease.
“Hey, the airport was Rory’s thing,” she argues. “He owes you for that.” She pauses. “Now’s probably not the time to be arguing the little details though, right?”
“Yeah, I’d wait until you’re in my car before you do that,” I agree, chuckling.
“Good advice,” she says. “And, thanks for not asking questions,” she adds in a small voice.
“Oh, don’t worry,” I say with a smile. “I’ll be asking plenty of them when I see you.”
I wait for Siobhan to text me the hotel address, then toss the phone on the seat, deep in thought. It’s killing me, imagining all the different scenarios she might’ve gotten herself into. How did she go from the hotel downtown to being stuck in the middle of Vegas? I have to laugh, because it doesn’t make any sense at all.
Even though it’s not my fault, and I’m doing everything I can to avoid her, Rory would probably kill me if he knew I was going to pick up his sister. But on the other hand, it’s not like he’d want me to leave her stranded there. I shake my head and lower the window, keen for some fresh air.
So much for
using this road trip to stay away from her.
Chapter Four
Siobhan
I have no idea where Kayla is. I lost her not long after we got to the hotel where the wedding was being held. Now it’s two hours later and I haven’t seen nor heard from her at all.
Just like I expected, security saw right through her claims that she was the bride’s sister when she couldn’t even remember her name. Shortly after that, I went to the bathroom and when I came back, Kayla was gone. I assumed she’d somehow found her way inside, but since she’s not answering her phone or my texts, I can’t be sure. I’m only slightly worried about her, because she’s done this so many times before, but I can’t sit in this bar all night and wait for her to come back for me. Especially, considering I have next to no money with me and no way of getting home. Thank God he’d sent me his number, or I would’ve been forced to call Rory for help. I can’t imagine how that would’ve gone down with Amelia still sick in her bed.
Sipping my wine, I glance up as Ben struts through the door. I straighten up, flipping my long, brown hair over my shoulder, my body tingling as I study him. He scans the room, trying to find me with a perplexed look on his face, while I watch, amused. I guess I must look different when I’m not wearing track pants.
Eventually, he spots me. He raises his eyebrows and mumbles something under his breath as he walks toward me. My heart races, because although I keep telling myself I won’t go there, when he looks at me like that, boy do I want to. He sits down on the seat next to me and taps his finger on the bar counter as he glances at me.
“Hey,” I say, softly.
“Hey. I didn’t recognize you for a moment there,” he murmurs, unable to take his eyes off me. I shiver under his intense gaze, my body reacting in ways that I really don’t want it to. “Can I buy you a drink?” he adds.
“Smooth,” I giggle. “I’ve been drinking this wine for half an hour,” I say. “But sure, knock yourself out.”
“What are you drinking?” he asks, nodding at my glass.
“Wine,” I say with a shrug. “I’m not much for alcohol,” I admit. “It all kind of tastes the same to me.” He looks at me like I killed his pet rabbit. “What?” I giggle.
“What? You say that, then ask me what?” He shakes his head, disappointed. “You’re Irish, Siobhan. Drinking is in your blood, isn’t it? You’re obviously not drinking the right kind of drink,” he adds, frowning at me.
“Really? And what would you suggest?” I say, suppressing my laughter.
“A nice whiskey with a smooth finish,” he decides, after thinking about it for a moment.
He waves the bartender over and orders two whiskeys. I examine the contents when my drink is placed in front of me, not convinced it’s a step up from my cheap wine. I lean forward, sniff it, and nearly pass out. Just the aroma is nearly enough to make me drunk. Ben chuckles.
“Just so you know, if you can’t handle it, I won’t think any less of you if you don’t try it,” he goads.
I narrow my eyes at him, then knock it all back in one go. Something I immediately regret as it burns the back of my throat, not that I’m about to let him know that. He watches me closely, looking for any sign that I’m suffering, but I’m not giving him one, then I turn to the barman and ask for another.
Ben laughs. “You’re a tough girl,” he comments, looking impressed.
“Don’t you forget it,” I grin, my throat demanding a bucket of ice.
“So, what happened?” he asks. “How did you end up sitting in a bar in the middle of Vegas?” He shakes his head, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.
I roll my eyes and sigh, taking a big gulp from my freshly-poured drink.
“Kayla happened.”
“Who’s Kayla?” he asks curiously.
“She’s a good friend of mine from the old country. She’s in Los Angeles studying fashion. I haven’t seen her in ages, so we caught up. It turns out she hasn’t changed even the tiniest bit. She convinced me to go to a wedding in Vegas.”
“A wedding?” he chuckles. “Whose wedding was it? And who the hell gets married on a Sunday night?”
“Dylan Kane’s cousin does,” I grin. “Kayla tried to bluff her way in but couldn’t get us past security. I went to the bathroom and lost her.”
“Well, I’m glad you called me,” he says, his eyes lingering on me for a very long time. I shiver under his sexy gaze.
“You got here fast,” I say.
He nods. “I was on my way to see my mom.”
I smile, because there’s nothing cuter than a boy who looks after his mother.
“She lives in Vegas?” I ask.
“Just out of,” he says. “Like half an hour from here,” he says.
“It’s great that you get over to see her.”
“Yeah, but it’s still not as much as she’d like. It’s kind of hard with work, and because I’m always busy.”
“Right, but not too busy to pick up women, I’m sure,” I tease him.
“And what would you know about that?” he asks, his eyes sparkling. I flush, which makes him smile wider. “Rory said something, didn’t he?”
I go to answer and instead sway forward on my seat. I let out a little giggle, suddenly feeling dizzy, and Ben smirks at me.
“I think I’m cutting you off. You’re a little bit tipsy. Maybe we should get you back to your room?” he suggests.
“That would be lovely, only I don’t have one,” I say, downing the last of my drink.
I groan as I start to feel light-headed. This time, I nearly lose my balance and fall off the stool, until Ben reaches out and steadies me. I tremble at the feel of his arms around me, his face so close to mine I can’t avoid looking into those eyes.
“Well, I’ll book one then,” he murmurs.
“I think I could use a lie down,” I manage to say to him as he helps me out of the bar.
He guides me into the elevator, and we go down to the foyer and walk across the road to a cheaper hotel. He props me up on a seat while he checks us in. He studies me for a moment, frowning.
“Will you be okay here?” he asks.
“You’re only going over there,” I say, pointing to the desk. “Where are you going to sleep?” I ask.
“I’ll get two rooms,” he says.
“Or you can save your cash and sleep in with me?” I smirk. Then I stare at him, wide-eyed, because I have no idea where that moment of boldness came from.
“We’d better focus on you for now. I’ll figure me out later,” he replies.
He walks over to the desk, glancing back at me every few steps, while I concentrate hard on not making a fool of myself. Finally, he walks back over to me and helps me to my feet. My heart races as he touches the curve of my back. I start to feel warm, and I’m not sure whether it’s the alcohol, or him. I feel dizzy being so close to him. Rory doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Look how sweet and considerate he’s being. I gaze at him, he looks back at me, amusement in his eyes.
“Can you walk, or do I have to carry you?” he murmurs in my ear.
“I think I can manage to walk,” I fire back. “I’m not drunk, I’m just…” He chuckles as I lose my train of thought. “I blame you and those whiskeys,” I inform him.
“Me?” he laughs. “I only got you the one.”
“I know, and I only got the other one to impress you.” I sigh as we step into the elevator. “I really want you to kiss me right now,” I admit. “I wanted to kiss you the moment I saw you in the airport.”
“Did you drink whiskey or truth serum?” he asks with a grin.
He holds me a little bit closer. My heart races as I stare at him and then the doors abruptly open. He hesitates before leading me out and down to my room, where I insist he takes me inside, just in case I don’t manage to make it over to my bed on my own.
“Is here okay, or do you need me to help you into bed?” he teases as he helps me sit down on the edge.
“Here is fine,” I mutter.
I don’t let go of his hand. Instead, I entwine my fingers in his and place his hand on my back. He looks at me, his expression torn. If he’s not going to make the move, then I will.
Pulling him closer to me, I kiss him, my lips touching his. It feels electric. He groans as he kisses me back, his fingers raking through my hair. He pulls away, so our mouths are just touching. I smile, my lips tingling. He looks away and then back into my eyes.
“I should go before…”
“Before what?” I prod with a grin. He shakes his head and smiles.
“I’d love nothing more than to stay—trust me—but I promised your brother I wouldn’t do this.”
I look around the room, while he watches me, amused.
“Sorry. Is Rory hiding under the bed or something, because I don’t see him in this room.” I have no idea where this confidence is coming from.
“You want another reason, then? Fine. I’m not going to do this while you’re drunk.”
He kisses me softly on the cheek, then he pulls out of my embrace. I watch as he walks across the room toward the door, my heart a mix of emotions.
“I’ll get another room and see you in the morning. Sleep well, Siobhan.”
I lay back on the bed and sigh, feeling deflated. I close my eyes, about to give in to sleep, when my phone rings. My heart races as I pick it up. I know it’s not going to be Ben, but a little part of me still hopes. I make a face when I see Rory’s name. It’s like he knows when I’m doing something wrong.
“Hello?” I grumble.
“Hey. Where are you?” he asks.
I’m tempted to pretend I’m still back in my hotel room in L.A., but knowing Rory, he’s standing outside it.
“Vegas?” I say, cringing.
“Vegas?” His laughter stops when he realizes I’m serious. “Why would you be in Vegas? What are you doing there?” He pauses, his tone darkening. “Is Ben with you?”
“Why would Ben be with me?” I snap, closing my eyes.
“No reason,” he says with a sigh. “So, what are you doing there?”
“Kayla dragged me here for a wedding,” I explain. “Don’t ask, it’s a long story.”
Irish Affair Page 14
