The Virgin Next Door (Stud Ranch 3)

“Yeah, yeah,” Liam muttered, jerking out of Mack’s grasp and running up the stairs after Calla. Mack was right on his heels. Jaysus, talk about déjà vu.

“Liam!” Brigid called after him right before the door to the stairs shut. “Wait. I just want to talk. Please!”

What a clusterfuck. Liam ignored Brigid and caught up to Calla right before she shut the door to her room on the second floor.

“Calla,” he breathed out, stopping her door from closing. She stepped back and allowed him to push his way in.

“That down there, it’s not what you think. She doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.”

Calla’s head came up, hazel eyes vulnerable and full of uncertainty. “But she did? Once?” Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting like this.” She turned away from him. “It’s not like we have— We’re just—” She waved a hand. “I know we agreed it’s not a relationship or anything—”

Liam went to her and spun her around to look at him. “That’s shite and you know it. This summer’s been—” Now it was him who didn’t know the right words to say or how to put it. One thing he did know. “It’s sure as fuck a relationship.”

He took her shoulders and dropped his mouth to hers but she pulled away at the last second. Her eyes were still full of hurt. “She kissed you.”

Liam squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out. “I’m sorry, baby. She’s me past. We were together for about six months a couple years ago. That’s all.”

Calla nodded but her mouth was tight like she was barely holding back her emotions.

“She’s nothing to me. What you, Mack and me have, it’s everything. Do you understand? Now, I have to go down there to talk to me Da and Brigid. It might take a bit, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

Calla nodded rapidly, swallowing hard as she met his eyes. His brave girl. “I promise I’ll explain as soon as I can.”

She nodded again and he pressed a quick, hard kiss to her forehead.

When he turned to go back downstairs, he found Mack standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He watched Liam like he was sure Liam was about to fuck them over.

“Take care of her until I get back,” Liam said to Mack, meeting him glare for glare.

“I’m okay, don’t worry about me,” Calla said, joining them at the door and running a hand down Liam’s back comfortingly. “You talk to your dad. We’ll be here when you get back.”

Liam swallowed, then ran back downstairs where Da and Brigid were waiting for him.

“What was that?” Brigid asked, eyes narrowed as she looked past him up the stairs.

Liam could only stare at her incredulously. “As if you have any right to ask me that. Tell me, how’s Sean these days? What, did he lose all his money in another get-rich-quick scheme? That why you’re here? Your personal ATM run out again?”

Brigid winced and pursed her lips. “That’s not fair. Liam, please, we just need to talk. Your da and I have things we need to—”

Liam scoffed cynically. “I think we all said everything there was to say two years ago when I left. Right, Da? Oh wait,” he paused dramatically, “I might not have the right to call you that. So, Ciarán, you disinherit me yet? That why you’re here? So I can sign the papers freeing you of me legally?”

Learning Ciarán O’Neill might not actually be his father had been one of the great blows of his life. At the same time, it explained so many things.

It was two years ago. His mom had been sick. Dying of liver failure. They hadn’t spoken in years but he remembered the ma she’d once been. How they used to spend summers together in the country. Riding horses and painting. How loving and happy she’d once been before the drinking and drugs.

He was in the first stable relationship of his life with Brigid and he thought, maybe, just maybe, he could reconcile with his ma and

find some real sort of happiness. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do when you were an adult?

Ma had looked terrible when he visited her in the hospital. Her skin was yellowish and papery, with her veins standing out in her thin, emaciated body. She was short of breath and seemed easily confused. It was right near the end.

“Ma,” he’d leaned over her hospital bed, taking her hand. “It’s me. It’s Liam.”

Her eyes had slowly drifted up to his face.

“You,” she rasped.

“Yes, Ma, it’s me.” He’d swiped at the stupid tears in his eyes. She’d been so beautiful once, so kind and loving. His earliest memories were of her holding him close and singing to him before bedtime. She was still in there somewhere, beneath the husk of woman destroyed by drugs and drinking, he had to believe that.