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“I’ll just leave it outside your door.” He set the plate down and then stepped back
He ran his hands roughly through his hair, then whispered a sharp, “Fuck,” before striding down the hall to his own room and shutting the door firmly behind him.
5
LIAM
“Jaysus,” Liam grumbled to Jeremiah, “no one should be expected to wake up at the arse crack of dawn every morning.” He pushed out the back door of the kitchen and they headed in the direction of the stables. “It’s just not bloody right.”
Jeremiah nodded, clutching his head.
Mack and Nicholas had gotten out the door ahead of them but Mack turned back, apparently having heard him. “Well maybe you shouldn’t go out drinking and whoring when you know you have to get up at five a.m. the next morning.”
Liam’s eyebrows narrowed and Jeremiah winced, hand still massaging his temple. “Would everybody stop shouting?”
Liam ignored Mack and grinned at his friend. His own head was aching a bit but he didn’t feel anywhere near as bad as Jeremiah looked. Then again, Liam hadn’t spent half the night throwing up. He clapped Jeremiah on the back. “That’ll teach you to go playing drinking games with an Irishman. Even the smallest of me kinswomen could drink you lot under the table any day of the week.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Jeremiah clutched his stomach and bent over, one hand on his knee.
Liam jumped back. “Don’t come anywhere near me. I’ve barely even worn in me new boots.” They were black Lucchese cowboy boots, the best of the best. Just because Liam had given up playing billionaire didn’t mean he had to give up all his creature comforts.
“God help us if your pretty new boots get mussed,” Mack shot over his shoulder.
Liam lifted a thumb to his still aching jaw. Brawling at six in the morning would be a bad idea, yeah?
Didn’t stop his fists from clenching. Jaysus it had felt good getting that sucker punch in last night. It had been a long time coming.
Liam didn’t know what Mack’s fucking problem was. Liam was perfectly affable when he’d gotten to the ranch two years ago. But about three seconds after meeting him, Mack acted like Liam’s very existence was some great offense. Bastard thought he was better than everyone around him even though it couldn’t be further from the truth.
If Liam had met gutter trash like Mackenzie Knight in his old life, he would have gotten him thrown out of whatever club they were in and that would be that. He’d never have had to see the wanker again.
But part of this great experiment was seeing how the common people lived. Which meant living across the hall from the biggest douchebag he’d ever met. And constantly having to put up with his shite.
Nicholas hauled the stable door open, silent and good-tempered as ever. Liam liked the gentle giant. And the twins were great for a laugh. Xavier and Mel were top notch too. If not for Mack, he’d be totally happy with his new life.
All right, he could do without constantly having to muck horse shit, but apart from those two things, life on the ranch was surprisingly enjoyable. He’d only meant to spend a month or two here. But it had quickly grown on him… and well, he hadn’t been eager to face all the shite back at home.
Turned out not having your every step hounded by paparazzi was more refreshing than he’d expected. Plus getting away from the city. And his family. His last scene with his father had ended up with his fist in his da’s face.
He knew twenty-seven was too old to be running away from home. But fuck it, half the point of being a spoiled little shit was that you never had to grow up, yeah?
And his best memories had been spending time in the stables when he was a little kid. They used to spend summers in a cottage just outside Kilkenny. To hear his ma tell it, it was where his da had first courted her. She’d been on the set of a movie she was shooting and he’d been passing through on vacation. Love at first sight, that’s what Ma said. So they’d come back every summer.
Except ever since Liam could remember, his da never stayed more than a week or two. He was always traveling, running back to Dublin or flying to L.A. or London or God knew where.
So Liam and his ma would spend all summer riding horses and painting and eating lazy meals in the big cottage house on the hill. The brawny stablemaster, Craig, taught him how to saddle and ride his first pony when he was just four years old. He thought it was all magical.
At least until his parents got divorced and Ma started drinking and snorting whatever shite she could find to shove up her nose. Back when Liam believed in things like goodness and love and happy endings. Before he learned better.
