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Then.
“Tell me everything.”
And Ronan did.
37
If only
The sun beat down on her skin, all bright and golden and fucking wholesome. Just like the scene unfolding on the Armstrong farm.
It was her nephew’s fourth birthday.
Felicity would have preferred a root canal.
Music drifted from a Bluetooth speaker, a trestle table groaned beneath the weight of enough food to feed a small army, and the scent of barbecue hung heavy in the air. Children shrieked with laughter as they tore across the grass. The dogs — almost as numerous as the kids, pugs included — added their excited yaps to the chaos.
The women sat clustered beneath the shade of the trees — Sunny, Ruth, Rae, and Bella — nursing drinks and swapping stories. She wondered how many secrets from their childhood her sister had already shared with her friends.
She’d chosen a spot on the small deck on the water’s edge, ostensibly keeping an eye on the occasional overheated child who decided the recently enlarged swimming hole offered the perfect place to cool off.
In reality, it gave her an excuse to stay out of the conversation.
Why bother? It wasn’t as if she’d be around much longer anyway.
Which was why her gaze settled on Ronan.
The men were gathered around the fire pit, beers in hand, talking amongst themselves. Judging by the furrowed brows and serious expressions, they were more than likely discussing plans for the upcoming trip.
And Ronan kept looking at her.
Not openly. Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Just those thoughtful, assessing glances he’d been sending her way for days.
Her stomach tightened. Did he suspect she had her own hidden agenda?
She shook her head. It was an absurd thought.
If the man had even the slightest inkling of what she was planning, he’d have confronted her already. Argued. Tried to talk her out of it. He wasn’t exactly known for keeping his opinions to himself.
So no, he didn’t know.
As if sensing her thoughts, he looked up and met her gaze across the clearing. Felicity couldn’t prevent her stomach from erupting with a thousand butterflies at the small grin that lifted one corner of his mouth.
Disgruntled, she averted her gaze, wiping away a bead of perspiration gathering at her hairline. It was hot, nearing midday. Maybe it was time to move into the shade.
She caught Ronan breaking away from the group out of the corner of her eye, heading straight for her. Her traitorous pulse kicked up.
The wooden planks of the deck creaked beneath his tread. “You look hot.”
Before she could respond — before she could even narrow her eyes suspiciously — he bent, slid an arm behind her knees and another around her back, and hauled her into his arms.
“What the—”
His grin widened.
“Ronan!”
