Page 45 of Redeem Me

She’s with my brother.

If the kids go with Jocelyn, I could gatecrash their date. Because I know my brother. I know how his tiny little brain works. Where he’ll take her to impress her. But he doesn’t know Ivy at all.

I’ve only known her a couple of weeks, but she’s spent the entire time under my roof, and when I haven’t had my tongue buried inside her, I’ve been watching her – even when I shouldn’t have been.

I know what she likes, what she’s interested in, and it’s not being wined and dined in an overpriced, pretentious restaurant, which is undoubtably where Rian will take her. He thinks throwing money at women is enough to get into their panties. Sometimes he’s right. But not with Ivy.

She comes from an ambitious, affluent family, yet instead of studying at a pretentious college and pursuing a high-flying career she’s not passionate about, she unashamedly admits her life goals are to have a family.

People are what matter to Ivy. Not places. She was happier than a pig in shit with the pizzas on the beach yesterday. The quiet coffee we shared in the garden. That’s more her thing. The little things are the big things to her.

I hesitate, biting the lining of my cheek. Jocelyn steps closer, placing a hand on my forearm. ‘Oh, Caelon, I hate seeing you like this. Isabella would hate to see you like this. You used to be so vibrant, so full of life. Now you look so…’ she fumbles for the right word before settling on, ‘tortured.’

I cough to cover my snort.

‘You need to move on. It doesn’t mean you love Isabella any less. You could have another fifty, sixty, maybe even seventy years on this planet. Do you really want to spend them alone?’

‘I never thought about it,’ I admit truthfully. I’ve been so consumed with rage and a thirst for revenge, I’ve never thought past those things. And while I don’t want to embark on a relationship with Ivy, I definitely don’t want her as a sister-in-law.

‘Let me take the kids today, please,’ Jocelyn urges.

‘If you’re sure.’ I blow out a breath. ‘I’ll collect them this evening, around six.’

‘Perfect.’

Rian gatecrashed my day with Ivy yesterday.

Today, I’m going to gatecrash his.

Chapter Twenty

IVY

Where Caelon is dark and tortured, Rian is a ray of sunshine. His easy banter and blatant flirtations are a balm to my soul, but they don’t set it alight the way that Caelon does. The second I met Caelon, something inside of him sparked something inside of me, and it hasn’t stopped burning since. Living in his house, I’m almost as tortured as he is, knowing he’s so physically near, yet so out of reach.

‘We’ll take a bottle of the 1971 Dom Perignon Plenitude, please,’ Rian tells the waiter, without bothering to ask me what I’d like.

I glance around the restaurant, an opulent Thai where it’s notoriously difficult to make a reservation. It’s frequently mentioned in the society pages and the trashier gossip blogs. There’s always some celebrity being papped here.

Everything is pristine white, so much so it’s almost blinding. The cutlery gleams. The crystal glasses send rainbow colours cascading in every direction. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the St. Stephens Green below. I watch as people stroll through the lavish grounds, tilting their faces uptowards the sun, revelling in the rays. My feet itch to be outside. This is lovely, but yesterday was so much better.

I squirm in my seat as the memory of this morning shoots through my brain like a torpedo.

‘So, Ivy, tell me about yourself,’ Rian says, his huge oval eyes flick over every inch of my face before darting to my chest then back again. I picked out a simple summer dress which is probably way too casual for a restaurant like this, but I’m comfortable and it’s cute.

Each of the Beckett brothers is drop-dead gorgeous, but while they all share the same shocking dark hair, enviable bone structure and strong physique, they’re all unique in their own subtle ways. Rian has a playfulness to him that the others lack. Mischief dances in his dark irises, lighting him up from the inside out.

‘What do you want to know?’ I skim my finger over my fork for something to do with my fidgety hands. We spent the morning driving through the Wicklow countryside making small talk about the scenery before heading into the city for lunch. The weight of his full attention is making me question what I’m doing here.

Although, deep down, I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m giving Caelon–Can-Make–You–Come-Hard–Enough–To–See–Stars the proverbial middle finger. Which probably isn’t fair on Rian, though I’m pretty sure when it comes to the opposite sex, he doesn’t play fair either.

‘Favourite sexual position,’ he smirks.

I shake my head with a snigger. ‘So you want to play this game, do you?’

‘I always find it’s better to cut to the chase.’ He shrugs. ‘Saves a lot of messing around.’

‘Okay, well, in that case, letmecut to the chase. My favourite sexual position is irrelevant because you won’t getpast first base.’ I mimic his playful tone, although I’m deadly serious.

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