Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
The plane is utterly silent as Mik glares at Beckett, then he turns to me.
“I like him.”
Da laughs and leans over to pat Beck on the shoulder. “Aye, as do I. What do you do, Beckett?”
Beckett tells my family about his dairy operation, his guest ranch, and how his family has been a mainstay in Bitterroot Valley for so long. My parents listen, interested, and it makes me proud that they don’t for even one minute insinuate that Beckett might not be good enough for me, simply because he doesn’t come from the same economic background as my family.
“I respect a family-run business backed by a strong work ethic,” Da says when Beckett pauses. “Tell me more about the guest homes you rent.”
Even Connor leans in, listening. Ever the businessman.
When anyone discusses hospitality around my family, that’s all they want to talk about. And honestly, I don’t mind because I’m proud of Beckett.
“I have to interrupt,” I say, and when I turn to Beckett, he nods. “Beck has shown them to me, and I have to say that they’re just brilliant. Eight tiny A-frame homes face the most gorgeous view of the mountains. Honestly, if I stayed there, I’d never leave to do other activities because he’s had them decorated so sweetly, such that they’re cozy and luxurious, and with that view, he can’t go wrong.”
“You should be in charge of all of my marketing, Irish,” Beck says before planting a kiss on my temple.
“Oh, I’d love to see them,” Ma says. “We’ve been to Bitterroot Valley a couple of times to see Skyla, of course, but we haven’t been able to get out to see the scenery. Perhaps we’ll have to rent one of those cabins the next time we’re in the area.”
The thought of that excites me.
“You should. And he has chickens.”
Connor blinks at me. “So?”
“I love the chickens.”
Beckett’s laughing beside me. “Out of all the animals on my ranch, I think it’s hilarious that you love those chickens so much.”
“They’re hard workers,” I insist, lifting my chin. “And the eggs are delicious.”
Mik’s eyes are narrowed on me as he listens.
“My malishka is no longer a city girl.”
Lifting an eyebrow, I tip my head to the side. “No, I guess I’m not.”
“And one day,” Da says, “you’ll tell us the real reason you left the city. I know it’s not just because of your ankle, a stór.”
I feel Beckett’s eyes on me as I nibble on my lower lip.
“I can’t dance,” I reply with a shrug. “And I was tired of the city.”
“We’re beginning our descent into Los Angeles,” the pilot says through the speakers, interrupting the conversation and taking the pressure off me.
No, I never told my parents about The Arsehole.
There’s no reason for them to worry. They were so far away, and there was nothing for them to do.
“What are you working on next, Connor? Are you still in the middle of the rehab project in Paris?”
“That’s wrapping up,” my brother says. “I have a few things happening. After this trip, I’ll be in Miami for a few weeks, then back to Dublin for a bit.”
“And when will you be rebuilding the ski resort in Bitterroot Valley?”
My brother’s eyes narrow on me, but I flash him a bright smile.
“I never said I’d be doing that, and you know it.”
“You didn’t have to tell me. I know you. It’s exactly the kind of project that Gallagher Hotels would take on. Also, as long as you promise not to be a complete shite, you could date Billie. You bought your own house and everything.”
“What?” Beckett asks as Connor growls and runs his hand down his face.
“I’m just saying it’s something to think about.”
“Who’s Billie, then?” Ma asks.
“Beckett’s sister, and she’s one of my best mates,” I reply, still holding Connor’s gaze. “She’s gorgeous and smart and lovely, and she owns the bookshop that recently opened.”
“Why couldn’t I have been an only child?” Connor asks my parents, who both chuckle in response.
“Now, where would the fun be in that?” Ma asks him, reaching over to ruffle his hair. She doesn’t care that he’s almost forty. “It seems I need to spend more time in Montana.”
“No,” Connor says, shaking his head. “Not on my account.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but he doesn’t back down.
Not that he ever would anyway.
“Do I need to have a conversation with you?” Beckett asks Connor.
“No.”
Grinning, I sit back in my seat as the plane lands and lean my head on Beckett’s shoulder. I don’t know what I was worried about. Beckett’s won them all over without difficulty. This is already turning out to be a fun trip.
The only thing I have left to do is to put the dress on. My hair is washed and dried and curled in big waves, flowing down my back and over my shoulders. My full face of makeup is perfect, including the fake lashes. Ma offered to hire a glam squad to come into my suite and get me ready, but I did this for a living. No one did my hair and makeup when I had to get ready for a performance. It soothes me.