Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Declan
How better?
Better enough. How’s the wedding plans
Declan
Don’t change the subject
It seems more appropriate to ask you about your wedding. You’re an engaged man after all
Declan
They’re fine. The girls are doing all the things because they like it and I don’t care. Valentina has opinions about a lot. She’s got good taste.
Sigh. Of course she does.
Chapter Thirteen
DECLAN
The meeting starts at nine and goes until the early afternoon. When my aunt starts asking if we want to plan dinner, it’s too fucking long. Seamus sends one of the younger lads on a chipper run to get us through.
I should be paying more attention—I know I should, but all I can think about is Bridget. I've been trying to get her to go to the doctor, but she says she's an adult and no one can force her. We’ll see about that.
“Next week,” Seamus says, interrupting my thoughts. “We should probably have you go to New York. Seems best for you to have a good relationship with the Espositos moving forward.”
I nod slowly, exhaling. “I'm aware.”
“Haven’t been in touch with them to make arrangements, but I’m guessing you can handle it.”
“Aye.”
Seamus studies the table. It's rare he won't meet my eyes, and I notice it the way I notice everything—quietly and without letting it show.
“How are things going,” he says, “with all of that?”
“Fine,” I say. The word comes out a half second too fast, and we both hear it. Seamus is like a brother to me, and he knows that my head is on the fucking chopping block. He reaches for the sideboard and pours himself a drink.
“Ashland?” Ashland takes a shot.
“Cavin?” Of course Cavin takes a drink. Daire and Colm tip the bottoms of their beers together.
“Declan?”
“I’ll take a Coke.”
I take one from the top and drink it straight. Sickly sweet stuff, but it reminds me of her.
I glance at my phone when it buzzes, but it's not the person I want to hear from. It’s Valentina, showing me a dress she wants to buy for the rehearsal dinner. Like I care.
“At least she’s pretty,” Colm says.
I look up at him in surprise, because I can't believe he's talking about Bridget right in the open like that.
He’s looking over my shoulder. “I just mean she looks classically beautiful. Like an Italian princess or something.”
Fuck. He's talking about Valentina. I could’ve given myself away.
“Aye,” I say with a sigh. He can fucking have her.
“Could be worse,” Colm offers helpfully.
“Could be.”
“Meeting adjourned,” Seamus says. “Back here in two days.”
“Look who’s the priest now.” Ashland's eyes are twinkling at me as the room empties. He didn't go on a date for six damn years—now that he has a woman to take out, he's giving me grief because I'm the one who's engaged.
“You're not married yet,” Cavin says suggestively, because that's exactly what I said to him when he was engaged to Erin. I recognize that was an arsehole thing to say at the time.
“Come on,” he says. “Have some fun. Let loose a little.”
“Are you kidding me?” I shake my head at him. “I have dinner reservations.”
“D’Agostino's?” Seamus says hopefully. “I'd kill for a piece of their lasagna.”
“Or some of that bread,” Ashland says, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ delicious.”
“No,” I say, feeling like I'm pouting like a child. “There's some new French restaurant Valentina wants to try.”
“Oh god.” Cavin shakes his head. “Not the place that charges sixty quid for a green leaf and a snail?”
“Some such,” I say. “It’s fine.”
“Meet you at the chippy later,” Lorcan says, grinning at me. “Looks like this new girl's gonna get you all civilized.”
“I am civilized,” I protest.
“Civilized doesn't mean you use a fork and a knife, Declan. Our standards aren't quite that low.”
“Oh, feck off. I’ll have you know I ate sushi on my birthday, and I liked it.”
“Sushi,” Colm says, pulling a face. “Still, I'll probably meet you at the chippy after.”
“Valentina doesn't eat mammals,” I say. “So I guess we'll see what that's like.” Why am I thinking about the last time I took Bridget to get an American-style pub cheeseburger and chips?
“Well, more for you,” Ashland says.
“At least she’s pretty,” Colm says factually. I shrug. Why does everyone say that?
Cavin falls in behind me. I slow down and wait for him. “How's she doing?” I can't help myself.
“It's not good.” Cavin shakes his head. “Erin's been up at night worrying. We want to get Bridget in with a doctor, but she won't hear it.” He pauses, turning something over. “I was wondering if maybe you could talk to her. You have a way with her.”
“Me?” I say. “You think I could talk Bridget into doing something she doesn't want to do?” I don’t tell him that I have been, every fucking day.
Cavin says nothing, which is its own kind of answer.
“She's stubborn as hell, Cav.”