Page 18 of On The Rocks

“They flew off when I landed,” I explained breathily.

He stooped down to pick them up and held them out toward me. “Here,” he murmured, the richness in his deep voice hitting me deep.

Whispering, “Thanks,” I slipped my glasses back on, but when I looked back up at Callum, the warmth faded from his expression, along with his smile.

An icy chill skated over my skin.

He took a step back, his expression turning from soft to blank. I could almost see the walls going up and his eyes shuttering his feelings away from me.

I wracked my brain, desperately trying to think about what I could’ve done to make him close down on me. Maybe he thought I was a klutz because I tripped, even though it had already been established that bitch-face Shannon tripped me.

Still, Callum seemed pissed about something. After his kindness, it was out-and-out confusing. I’d had a few boyfriends over the years, but they were as socially awkward as I was. Trying to work out Callum’s moods was beyond my capabilities, and anyway, he was a grown-ass man; he could account for his own behavior.

The argument between Shannon and Patrick came to an abrupt end when she whirled around and stomped up the stairs to her room.

I watched her go with a feeling of relief. There’d be one less person around the table who’d speak down to me. Erin wasn’t quite as rude as Shannon, and Aunt Orla usually just tossed her carefully highlighted blonde hair while looking bored.

“Shall we go in to eat?” Patrick asked us, his eyes still on Shannon as she flounced up the wide staircase.

Aunt Orla walked to his side and took his arm, murmuring, “Of course, darling.”

I went to move toward Callum’s side, but was beaten to it by Erin, who sidled up to him.

“How’s the bar business going, Callum?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

His lips hitched into a small smile. “It’s good, thanks, sweetheart. If you’re ever in Wyoming, you should come in for a drink. I’ll give you a tour of the place.” He held the crook of his arm out for her and shot her a suggestive smirk, then turned his back on me and walked her into the dining room.

Mouth agape, I watched my so-called fiancé walk my adoptive sister into dinner while not sparing me a backward glance. A sharp pain shot through my heart, and I had to close my eyes to stop myself from seeing how perfect they looked together.

As Patrick ushered us all into the large dining room with its table, which comfortably sat twenty-four people, a small doubt flickered inside me as I took my seat opposite my fiancé, who sat next to Paddy at the head of the table with Erin to the left of him.

I didn’t know Callum well at all, but I did know his type. He was no doubt used to glamorous, confident women who laughed at his jokes and simpered over him every time he spoke. Callum O’Shea was the proverbial captain of the football team, themost popular guy in town, and the dude who women fell over themselves to date and men fell over themselves to be friends with.

I was the frizzy-haired nerd who was so socially inept that I made people uncomfortable with my useless knowledge that they didn’t understand.

We were oil and water, chalk and cheese, in other words, completely unsuited. Something felt off about this wedding. Why did Callum want to marry me when he could get any woman he wanted?

“So,” Paddy began. “How’s the bar business going?” A small smirk crossed his face.

My gaze fell on Callum, whose eyes were in the process of turning to slits.

A stab of unease gripped me, because nobody looked at Patrick Doyle that way.

Nobody dared.

Patrick, however, seemed to take it all in his stride. “I’ve heard your bar’s really profitable, a real small-town family business that’s appreciated by the townsfolk. The place to be in southern Wyoming by all accounts. In fact, it’s exactly the place Orla and I would look at retiring to.”

Orla’s panicked gaze darted to her husband. “Retire? Wyoming?”

“Yeah,mo ghrá. Though, if you prefer New York, you could stay here and shop, and I’ll visit you on occasion.”

My lips twitched because I knew Paddy meant it. He lived for the day he could escape Orla.

“You’d be bored in Wyoming,” Callum replied in a hard tone. “And you’ve got your own family here, andI’ve got mine.”

Patrick’s eyes darted to me, then back to Callum before he sat back in his chair. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Does that mean we’re going to be announcing an engagement soon?”

That time, Callum’s eyes darted to me and back again, and he shook his head slightly, his lips curling as if something about Patrick disgusted him down to his very core. “Yeah,” he muttered, his tone resigned. “Looks like it.”

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