Because You're Mine (The Gallaghers)

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Because You're Mine (The Gallaghers) Page 1

by Layla Hagen




  Because You’re Mine

  Layla Hagen

  Dear Reader,

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  ***

  Because You’re Mine

  Copyright © 2020 Layla Hagen

  Cover: Uplifting Designs

  Photography: Regina Wambe

  Copyright ©2020 Layla Hagen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four | Ian

  Chapter Five | Ian

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen | Ian

  Chapter Fourteen | Ian

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen | Ian

  Chapter Twenty | Ellie

  Chapter Twenty-One | Ian

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Other books by Layla Hagen | The Very Irresistible Bachelors series is complete and ready to be binge-read

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  Chapter One

  Ian

  My brother’s engagement party was in full swing, and my whole family was attending. Since we were four siblings and had a huge extended family, it turned out to be quite a large event. We liked to celebrate everything in style.

  I couldn't believe how much had changed in my family lately. I was happy for my brother and sisters for finding their better halves, but none of this was for me. I was single and happy. Of course they gave me crap, calling me a player and all that, but I owned up to it without any shame.

  “Leaving already?” my sister Isabelle asked me as I made my way toward the door. She’d offered to host our brother’s engagement party at the huge house she and her fiancé bought in Tarrytown, just an hour outside of New York.

  “Yeah, I promised Henry that I’d pick up Ellie from the airport.” The younger sister of my best friend was moving to the city. Of course, I’d help any of my friends, but I immediately offered to help Ellie settle in. A detail no one needed to know.

  "I still think he's hiding something,” my other sister, Josie, noted. Damn, she was good. Being a lawyer, she naturally suspected things. She also liked to poke her nose everywhere.

  “Do I smell some guilt?” Isabelle added with a questioning look.

  “No, you don't. That's just your overactive imagination," I said.

  My brother, Dylan, grabbed my shoulder. "I like that you're sticking to your guns."

  I remained silent, but that didn’t deter Isabelle. Did I mention I have a nosy family?

  “I still think he has the hots for Ellie.”

  “She’s just the younger sister of my best friend; that’s it," I repeated, as much for them as for myself. Yes, Ellie was hot—but she was Henry’s sister, and that was that.

  "Yeah. Keep saying that. Maybe you will believe it eventually," Josie said. “Who knows, maybe by the time the next wedding rolls around, you’ll show up with a date named Ellie.”

  I shook my head. God, they were brutal. “I already warned Isabelle’s wedding planner that I’m coming alone and that she shouldn’t add anyone to my table, especially not any single ladies. So if you had any matchmaking plans in mind, forget it.”

  Isabelle pressed her lips together, holding up her palms. “I don’t have any plans whatsoever. I promise.”

  I laughed, leaving them to their machinations, and moved on to bid my parents goodbye. They’d flown to New York for the engagement party. They lived in Montana and only came to the Big Apple for special events. Although, since Josie had given them a granddaughter, they’d been visiting more often. And once Isabelle announced she was pregnant too, I was sure they’d visit even more frequently.

  I kissed Mom’s cheek and shook Dad’s hand.

  “Ian, we still have to talk about you paying for the flights,” he said sternly. My parents were proud and didn’t like us kids pitching in where we could. But they’d taken care of us all our lives, and so my siblings and I all agreed we’d try to lighten the burden when they retired by helping out with the little things. Besides, they wouldn’t even be in New York if it wasn’t for us kids—so that was another reason why my brother, sisters, and I footed the bill.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” I replied, winking. My parents were stubborn, but so was I. I was set on this.

  “Don’t think this conversation is over, young man,” Mom said. Her stern tone took me right back to my childhood days, when I got myself (and my siblings) in trouble and Mom knew exactly who was responsible. I hadn’t been able to help myself. I was known as the troublemaker of the small town we grew up in.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” I winked at her too before heading out to the driveway. I got in my Tesla and drove directly to JFK. I had about an hour to get there, according to my GPS. And an hour to not think about Ellie.

  My sisters were not entirely wrong with their speculations. Henry and I had been best friends since our college days in DC. Ellie was six years younger than us, and at eighteen, that seemed like a huge age difference. And the couple of times I saw her back then, she was a timid girl—and I wasn't even paying that kind of attention to her. She’d been just my best friend’s younger sister. All that changed two years ago. Ellie was twenty-one and I was twenty-seven when we spent three weeks in Lake Tahoe with Henry and a group of friends. She was so damn gorgeous that I couldn’t look away from her.

  Henry made me promise not to flirt with his sister. He knew me well, since we played with the same deck of cards, so to speak—if I had a younger sister, she’d be off-limits to Henry too. I’d agreed without a second thought and had even given him shit for warning me off. The joke was on me, because I spent those three weeks fighting myself and my instincts.

  That was two years ago. Then just a few weeks ago, he called to ask me to get his sister situated with her move and reminded me again that Ellie was totally off-limits. I told him I had excellent self-restraint these days.

  It turned out I didn’t. I saw her the first time two weeks ago when she came in for an interview. I kept myself in check. Barely.

  But I was determined to be on my best behavior.

  On the drive from Tarrytown to JFK, I checked her flight on my phone. She was coming in from Miami, and it looked like it was on time.

  When I arrived at the airport, I parked in short-term parking and checked the flight app again; the plane had landed two minutes ago. Hopping out of my car, I dashed to the main entrance and patrolled the waiting area, glancing at the arrival doors every time they opened.

  About forty minutes later, Ellie walked out. She was pushing a cart filled with five huge bags. I could barely see her behind them, but as soon as she saw me, she was smiling from ear to ear. Damn, damn, damn. Keep
eye contact, Ian. Don’t look at that long brown hair that reaches to her waist. Or her huge round eyes almost as dark as her hair. Eyes up, Ian.

  Way to go, asshole. Ten seconds in, and I was checking her out. Ellie Cavanaugh was testing my self-control already.

  "Only five bags, huh?" I teased her.

  "Hey, I love clothes," she said with a shrug. "Most of the time, I'm in my kitchen uniform. So when I'm not working, I like to dress up."

  She looked gorgeous in her jeans shorts that showed off her perfect ass and a simple yellow top that molded to her curves. She was no taller than five foot two, tiny compared to my six feet. I could scoop her up with one arm, she was just that petite. I shook my head. What was I thinking? I nudged her aside and began pushing the cart and reminded myself—No touching. No thoughts about touching or anything else either. She is off-limits.

  "So gallant. Thank you for pushing my baggage cart," she said.

  "How was your flight?"

  "Uneventful. I just read a book. Thanks for picking me up. You know it's not necessary, right?"

  "Of course it is. How else are you going to carry all your five bags?"

  She grinned, and I barely restrained from leaning in closer. I was in deep shit for sure. "That's true.”

  “Besides, I promised Henry I'd help you settle in." That’s right. Talking about her brother should make me stop this nonsense.

  "Oh, my brother... always so overprotective, but he means well. I think he hopes you’re just going to slip into his shoes and play the big brother role."

  “Yes, he does,” I agreed. “And I promised him I’d do just that.”

  The corners of Ellie’s mouth twitched. She nudged my arm with her shoulder. “A word of warning: he’s going to ask for a report from time to time.”

  I frowned. “No, he won’t. He’s not like that.” What, she was trying to press my buttons?

  “He is when it comes to me.”

  “Well yeah, but I know Henry.”

  “True, and he knows you.” She burst out laughing, averting her gaze as we walked to the parking lot.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’ll tell you on the condition that you don’t indulge his overprotective urges and tell him to mind his own business when he asks about me.”

  I considered this for a few moments and put myself in Henry’s shoes. Dylan and I had lived in DC for a long time. But before moving here in New York, I constantly checked on my sisters. I didn’t exactly want a report, but I understood where he was coming from. I knew that Ellie had lived in other states too, where Henry didn’t have friends, but in New York, he might want me to be his eyes and ears.

  “Okay, I take back the deal,” she quipped, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers.

  “Why?”

  “You took too long to think. So that means you agree with Henry.”

  “Sort of.”

  “Ha! I knew it.”

  She was a spitfire, and I liked it a little too much. She wasn’t the shy kid I remembered. I leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, “That doesn’t mean we can’t make a deal.”

  She swallowed hard, turning to look at me. She looked at my mouth only for a split second, but I caught her.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said slowly as I pointed to my car. I loaded three of her bags in the trunk and stuffed the other two on the back seat. She was putting her address in the GPS when I sat behind the wheel. Her apartment was in the Columbus Circle area, a good hour away from the airport if traffic was good. On the drive, she shared some more information about the restaurant where she was starting on Monday.

  "Are you excited?" I asked her, glancing over her way, noticing how happy she looked.

  “Oh yeah. Working in a Michelin-starred restaurant was my dream ever since I went to culinary school. I'm so lucky this job popped up. Honestly, I've been applying to New York restaurants since I finished school and never even managed to get past the first interview. But this time, everything just fell into place." I liked her energy and the way she used her hands when she spoke, like she was personalizing everything she said. She glanced around with a huge smile. I knew the feeling. I'd only moved to New York recently too. It was an exciting place to be. My brother and I ran a software company, Gallagher Solutions, and we’d been in DC for years before deciding to expand and move to New York. It was the best decision we ever made. The business was booming. I still had to go to DC once in a while when one of our customers needed help, but my home base was here in New York.

  "I was also super, super lucky to find this apartment. I really wanted to live in Manhattan so I wouldn't be so far away from work, and you know, all the excitement of those touristy places. It took some research on Craigslist to find it.”

  I eyed her carefully. "You found your apartment on Craigslist?"

  "Yes. My new roommate posted it. Her old one moved out, so she needed someone else to share the rent."

  "Please tell me you know this person."

  "Well, I know her from Craigslist."

  "And you've never met her in person?" No matter what city one moved to, I thought this was a bad idea.

  "No, but we did Skype before I signed the lease. I wanted to put a face to the name and see if we have chemistry. And we do."

  "You're moving in with a stranger?" I asked, realizing my voice sounded a lot like a growl.

  Ellie laughed. "Oh, you sound like my brother—all overprotective. I've moved around a lot in my life. I'm used to living with strangers. It's not the first time."

  I didn't say anything, but she laughed even harder. I might have growled again.

  Ellie chuckled. “You’re going to be just as overprotective as you were in Lake Tahoe, huh? You were like my own personal bodyguard. I just hoped it was because Henry was around, making you keep an eye on me.”

  “That’s because trouble was following you around. Actually, now that I think about it, you seemed to go looking for trouble,” I reminded her.

  “I’d just turned twenty-one. I wanted to take advantage of it.”

  Yes, that included going to bars and staying up late. Henry and I took turns going with her to make sure she wasn’t taken advantage of.

  “Looking for trouble,” I repeated.

  "You sound more and more like my brother," she teased. “Finding a place in Manhattan for a short period of time wasn’t easy. I’m subletting the room just for six months.”

  I looked at her in surprise. Henry didn’t mention this. “You’re here for only half a year?”

  “Yes. The restaurant I’ll be working at has three locations: New York, New Orleans, and San Francisco. I’ll be spending six months in each city. It’s a trainee program.”

  When we reached Columbus Circle, she looked around with even more curiosity. The hustle and bustle of the city could be overwhelming. Ellie’s street was five blocks away from where we were. A few minutes later, she pointed to a barber shop next to a ninety-nine cents a slice pizza store.

  "That's me. I live on the second floor." It was a prewar building with black windows and gray bricks. From the outside, it was not the least bit impressive, but the area seemed safe.

  Who was I kidding? I was worried Ellie was living on her own in the city—you had to be on your game here, be aware of your surroundings. I got out of the car with her, taking out all five bags. I bet each one was over the fifty-pound limit.

  "I'll come up with you," I offered. I wasn’t letting her get into an unsafe situation. I had to check this out.

  "You don't have to," she said. Then she eyed my arms. "I’m going to make some good use of your muscles. I don't think I can carry the bags all by myself."

  "Happy to know I can be of use," I said jokingly. The building did have an elevator, but carrying the bags up the first three steps was no easy feat.

  "What do you have in here?" I asked.

  “Shoes, lots and lots of shoes, and some clothes too. Don't judge."

  "I'm not. I have two
sisters. They also like shoes and clothes."

  "Oh great, maybe you can introduce me to them sometime."

  "I was planning to do that," I said. "I think you'll click with them."

  “Thanks.” Her eyes widened in genuine surprise. Why was she so taken aback? “I’m really looking forward to meeting people.”

  The elevator looked ancient, but it was a nice surprise that it worked. I lived in a completely different building that was five years old, so every modern amenity imaginable was available.

  Ellie rang the doorbell, and a tiny blonde opened the door.

  "Hey, Harper," Ellie said.

  “Ellie, welcome. I've been cleaning up, waiting for you." She glanced at me.

  Ellie looked at me over her shoulder. "This is my brother's friend, Ian. He lives in New York and wanted to help me today at the airport and make sure that you’re not a serial killer."

  Harper nodded. "As he should. I have to say, it's still nerve-racking to move in with someone you don't know." She opened the door, and we both went inside.

  Ellie’s room was so small that there was no space to move after bringing in the bags.

  "Well, this room is even tinier than it looked on camera," Ellie said. Harper was right behind us.

  "I know. I tried to take a pic from a good angle for you, but I wasn’t able to."

  "That's fine, Harper. It'll do." Ellie’s warm smile and dismissal of this turn in her living situation put everyone at ease. I liked that about her—that she didn’t snap at Harper for not taking a better picture. Some of the women I’d dated in the past would have pitched a fit and made demands. Big reasons why they were “in the past.”

  "Okay," Harper said. "I'll just be in the kitchen if you need anything."

  I was pleased to see Harper seemed like a nice person. She appeared genuine, and I was much less concerned about Ellie living here.

  Ellie glanced at her bags and around the room, then at me. The corners of her mouth twitched. I just burst out laughing.

  “There's no way I'm going to have space for all my clothes," she said. "I'll find a solution. I wanted to live in Manhattan but not spend all my money on rent, and this seemed like a good compromise. Not sure what to do with my bags."

 

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