In too Deep

Chapter 1-2

The front door behind him opened and he looked over his shoulder. His younger brother, Killian, stepped out.

“Hey, man. Mom said you were here. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s going on down the street?”

“Truth or Dare.” He wished he’d grabbed another beer so he could remove the taste of Chloe from his mouth.

Killian descended the stairs and leaned against the rail. “Why are you here?”

Every time one of his siblings questioned him, it always felt like an accusation. “You know why.” To make sure Brendan didn’t try to pull anything.

Killian nodded. So they wouldn’t discuss it tonight, wouldn’t fight about it. They’d save that for tomorrow.

“How are you?” Killian asked.

“Fine.”

“Don’t f*****g lie to me. I know the date.”

“Yeah? So?”

His brother sighed and crossed his arms. “You’re not the only one who misses him. We all lost him that day.”

“I’m well aware.”

“Are you? Because you show up here acting like you’re the only one he left.”

“He didn’t just leave.” He sucked in a deep breath, readying for the argument he’d often had with his family.

His siblings, led by Brendan, had wanted their mom to have Dad declared dead years ago. Ronan was the only one to side with Mom against doing that. They didn’t know where Michael Doyle was or what had happened to him. The one thing Ronan believed to the core was that his father wouldn’t have left them. The others were younger. They hadn’t had the relationship with their dad that he and Brendan had had.

Instead of arguing, Killian said, “It doesn’t matter now, does it? But it might help if he had a place at the cemetery where we could let go of him.”

They were all grown. Time to let go of hope.

Fuck. This again? “Did Brendan send you to talk to me?”

“It’s been twenty years.”

Ronan had known his siblings would make this play. On the anniversary, pull the strings to press for the declaration that he’d fought for years. But there was something different about this year. Twenty years. Time to move on. But he needed answers. He was only surprised Brendan wasn’t here doing the dirty work himself.

“Mom needs to let him go,” Killian added.

He also heard the unspoken words. He had to let his father go.

“She’ll never let him go. He was the love of her life.” He couldn’t imagine ever having that. A person who fit so perfectly that without them, a piece of him would be gone. But that was who his parents had been for each other.

“She might be better if she said goodbye and accepted that he’s gone for good. He’s not coming back.”

Ronan knew that. He was also aware that Killian could just as easily have said the same about him. If their father had been able to come back to them, he would have. So, yeah, he was probably dead. But without proof, knowledge of what happened to him, Ronan couldn’t bury him. He couldn’t let him go without answers. Why couldn’t his brothers understand that?

Chloe looked down the block to where Ronan had disappeared. She didn’t know what she’d hoped for after the body shot. That he would grab her and kiss her properly? In her dreams. As it was, that non-kiss was the hottest thing she’d experienced in a long time. She’d give almost anything for more.

She hadn’t seen Ronan in years. And after he’d rescued her from her own stupidity, Ronan became the subject of many, many teenage dreams. There was something about his quiet broodiness that drew her to him. Always the bad boys. He’d been a hulking brute as a teenager and he’d only filled out with solid, defined muscles as a man.

As she neared her parent’s house, she saw her mom standing on the porch.

“What do you need, Mom?”

“It’s late. What are you doing down there?”

Chloe clenched her jaw before answering. “We’re catching up, playing games. You can go to bed.” She didn’t bother mentioning how much alcohol was being consumed.

“You need to make sure our chairs are brought in and put in the garage.”

“I’ll do it soon. I promise.” The downside to being back in the neighborhood with the people she grew up with was that her mother still made her feel like a kid.

She looked across the street to the Doyle house. Someone joined Ronan on the front steps. Probably one of his brothers. She went to the keg and poured three beers. Offering a drink was the neighborly thing to do, and she was nothing if not polite. The fact that delivering beer down the block would put her back in Ronan’s orbit was a pleasant side effect.

As she neared the men, the glow from the streetlight hit them. Chloe recognized the second man as Ronan’s brother Killian—or his twin Kieran—which to guess?

“Is that you, Kieran?” she called from the sidewalk in front of the neighbor’s house.

When he turned, she immediately knew she’d guessed wrong. Although the twins were identical, Killian was the serious brother, while Kieran was quick with a wink and a smile. With seven kids, the Doyles were one of those families where you could run through a list of names before landing on the one you needed. But she and the twins had been in the same grade, so she knew them better than the younger siblings. She’d watched as they always tried to prank teachers. It made her home in on their differences.

“Sorry, wrong brother.”

“I know.” She sighed. “I knew it as soon as you turned. In my defense, it’s really dark out here.” She neared and held up the red plastic cups. “Beer?”

“I’d love one. Thanks.” He took a cup from her.

Tension surrounded the brothers, cloaking them in the darkness that had been cast over this house for years. It made her sad because they were good people, a loyal family. She’d always been a little jealous of the Doyles and how they readily accepted each other.

She turned to Ronan. “I figured you could use a refill.” You know, since you dropped yours before almost kissing me.

“You figured, huh?”

She leaned closer, extending a cup to him. “I thought you might be thirsty.”

“Thanks.”

When he reached for the cup, their fingers touched, sending a charge up her arm. Their gazes were locked and something zipped between them, but then he blinked and it was gone.

Stepping back, she took a drink of her own beer.

“Whoa. You drink?” Killian asked.

She nearly sputtered. “Yeah. I’m a thirty-two-year-old woman. I work in a bar. Of course, I drink.”

Ronan shot her a look. “As I remember, you don’t handle your liquor well.”

“That was one time and I was sixteen!” Had he not gotten over the events of that night? How many times had she apologized?

Both Doyles stared at her. Pointing a thumb over her shoulder, she added, “That wasn’t even the first body shot I’ve ever done. Given or received. I did go to college.”

“Wait. I missed a McCarthy doing a body shot? Why didn’t anyone let me know?” Killian said with a rare smile.

“What’s the big deal?” she asked.

“It’s just that—” Killian started.

“The McCarthys are the good kids. We all know it. Always have. You guys never did anything wrong,” Ronan finished. His eyes still held the accusation: Except for that one time.

“Here’s a newsflash, Doyles, I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a grown-a*s woman. And as such, I drink, I f**k, and yes, I occasionally swear.”

Somehow that sounded better in her head than it did when it came out. She hated the need to defend herself.

Killian raised his glass. “To all the women who drink, f**k, and swear.”

She took another drink. But they were right. The McCarthys were the perfect family. Her siblings naturally held up their end to make everyone look good. It required effort from her. Back in high school, it had been easy. She just did whatever she was told and whatever was expected of her. But once she went to college, she realized that wasn’t who she was or who she wanted to be. But for her family, she continued to pretend.

Which was exactly why she shouldn’t be here.

Hadn’t she just listened to her mother talk about all the wonderful, nice men she could be dating? Unfortunately, no matter how many times Chloe had tried to tell her that just because guys seemed nice didn’t make it so, her mother didn’t listen.

Seeing her with Ronan would probably give Mom a stroke. So much for her vow to try to do better. Be the child her mom wanted and life would be so much easier. It wasn’t like her mom was asking for anything ridiculous. A steady job and a nice man. That was all that was missing from her life for her mom to be happy. She went to church, did Sunday dinners, doted on her nieces and nephew.

“What do you want, Chloe?”

Hearing Ronan use her name in the dark sent a shiver down her back. She returned her attention to his face. He had the beginnings of a beard and his black hair, overdue for a cut, curled in waves at his collar. “Nothing. I’m being neighborly. That’s what the block party is all about. If you don’t like it, you shouldn’t have come.”

“Ouch,” Killian said with a smile. “I think you can add being mouthy to your list.”

She sucked in a sharp breath.

“I like it,” Killian continued.

Nothing from Ronan. She didn’t know why she bothered. He would never make a move to sleep with her—of course, that’s all it could be. Just enough to scratch that itch.

Maybe it was time to actually let her mother set her up. Bad boys got her blood racing but it could never be more than a few wild nights. At least with them, she knew what she was getting. Her mother might have the ability to find a truly nice guy. Lord knew Chloe failed in that mission spectacularly. The nice guy she’d found had been worse than all of the bad boys.

“Enjoy the beer, Doyles.” She turned and walked back to the bonfire to play more games with childhood friends.