Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“It was an arranged marriage?” Her eyes widen at that, and I smile.
“Not like that, no, and she’d be mighty chuffed if she thought I said so. It was … easy, I guess is the word for it. Fiona’s a lovely woman. She’s pretty”—Billie narrows her eyes, and I squeeze her hand, enjoying her wee show of jealousy—“and we got along well. We still do, but just as friends.”
“So you married her because you liked her well enough and she fit into your world?”
“Those were my reasons.” Our entrée is set in front of us, and when we confirm that we don’t need anything else, the server leaves. Billie and I both grab a fork and eat from one plate. “She would likely tell you that she thought she was in love with me at the time.”
Billie nods thoughtfully, but there’s no judgment there. “Interesting.”
“She hated how much I traveled for work. I wasn’t home much.”
“Where was home base?” she asks.
“Dublin. That’s where our headquarters is, although my family is originally from Galway. Have you ever been?”
Billie’s smile is easy and soft. “No. I’d never used my passport before we all went to London last month.”
I’m going to take this woman everywhere. And I can’t fucking wait. I want to show her the world. Every corner of it.
“So she lived in Dublin while you flew all over the place.”
“Aye.” I nod and push my glasses up my nose. “She could have come with me, but she preferred to stay in Ireland. And I was determined to earn my seat as CEO of Gallagher Hotels.”
“So really, it sounds like you wanted different things.”
“We did.”
“And no kids?”
I quirk an eyebrow at her. “I didn’t lie to you when I told you that I haven’t any children, angel.”
“Just checking. Besides, Skyla would have mentioned it.” She chews thoughtfully. “And now Fiona is married to your best friend?”
I feel the smile come when I think of the two of them together. “That’s how it should have been all along. Ronan and Fiona are amazing together. And they have two gorgeous boys.”
“A happy ending for them.” She smiles, setting her fork aside.
“You can’t be finished eating, angel. There’s still a lot of food here.”
“Pasta is filling. I ate a ton of nachos, and I’m about to have dessert. Trust me, I’ve had plenty.” She wipes her mouth with her napkin.
“Let’s talk about you now.” I set my own cutlery aside. “No long-term relationship for you?”
“Not currently,” she says, grinning when I lift an eyebrow. “Well, let’s see. I dated a little here and there through high school and college. Nothing super serious.”
“Were all the boys you knew just idiots?”
She smirks at that. “I’m picky, Connor. There’s really no other way to put it. And I don’t have much of a filter, and you already pointed out that I have a disgusted face.”
“You do, aye.”
“Yeah, well, can you imagine how well it goes over when a guy I’m not in any way attracted to approaches me, and I’m trying to be kind and let them down easily, but I have that look on my face because I don’t even know that it’s there?”
God, she’s amazing.
“You simply walk around Montana hurting feelings, then, is that it?”
Now, she drops her face in her hands. “No. It’s not like I’m approached all that often. Anyway, I dated one guy in college for about six months, and he took me home to meet his family.”
She looks up at me with that disgusted face firmly in place.
“I have to know what happened.”
“In all fairness, he had told me, no, warned me, that he was close to his mother.”
“Oh no.
“And my stupid ass thought, Oh, isn’t that nice? He has a good relationship with his mom. But that’s not what it was, not even close. The second I stepped into that house, that woman had it out for me. She asked him, right in front of me, why he would date a fat girl.”
My hand fists on the table, and she keeps going.
“He did tell her to stop being mean. But she didn’t stop. At one point, he went to the bathroom, and she leaned over and informed me that she’d never let me marry him. That she’d do everything in her power to make sure he knew what a piece-of-shit whore I am, and he’d dump me before the night was over.”
“What’s this woman’s name?” I ask before taking a sip of my water.
My angel, my perfect girl, laughs.
“I don’t find this to be funny at all, bumble.”
“Oh, it’s funny, all right.” The smile on her face is one of utter, smug pleasure. “He came back into the room and sat next to me but didn’t touch me. Now, that boy had been fucking me six ways to Sunday for three months.”