Quiet Longing (Quiet Love #2)

1.

Charli

Sixteen years ago.

I was nervous.

Not surprising since it was my first time away from home. It was also my first time stepping foot in another country. I was completely out of my element, had never even been on an airplane before, and was flying solo.

I gripped the straps of my backpack while waiting for my suitcase to appear on the carousel at Dublin Airport. It was late evening, and my flight from Boston had just arrived. I was spending the summer with my cousin, Nuala (pronounced Noo-la), at my aunt and uncle’s house.

Uncle Padraig (pronounced Pod-rig) was my mom’s brother and the big success of the family. He’d made his fortune by becoming the owner of two five-star hotels in Dublin. One was in the city while the other was closer to their family home on the coast.

Sadly, I wasn’t going to be staying at either hotel, but I would be working in one of them. My uncle had invited me to visit before I started college in the fall. He’d meant it to be a vacation, but Mom had refused to let me go unless I paid my way. So, I was going to be working as a kitchen porter, which I guessed was similar to a busboy. Still, I only had to work part-time. The rest of my time would be my own, and I was eager to explore and experience the country where my mom grew up.

I was also excited to spend time with my relatives.

My cousin, Nuala, was supposed to be meeting me at the airport. I hadn’t seen her or her brothers, Tristan and Derek, since they were little. The whole family used to visit the States when we were kids, but then Mom fought with Uncle Padraig, and things turned frosty between the families after that. They only started to thaw about two years ago when my father passed away and Uncle Padraig reached out to Mom.

Anyway, I was pretty sure this trip was his way of mending whatever bridges had been broken between them. Mom never told me what they’d argued over, but I had a suspicion it was about money. Padraig probably offered some to Mom since we were always struggling, and she was too proud and mulish to accept.

At long last, after most of the other passengers on my flight had collected their luggage, my suitcase appeared. I grabbed it hastily, made a quick trip to the bathroom then walked to Arrivals, hoping my cousin was there already, and I wouldn’t have to hang around waiting.

Nuala was seventeen, a year younger than me. Her brother Derek was the eldest at nineteen, and Tristan was also seventeen since he and Nuala were twins. I remembered her as this gorgeous, blonde, freckle-faced eight-year-old with long, willowy limbs and brown doe eyes. I’d been her opposite with my dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and chubby cheeks. Even now, I was still a little chubby. I’d always been self-conscious about it despite my attempts to love myself no matter what I looked like.

It didn’t help that Mom prided herself on being rail thin without ever really having to try. I took more after my dad’s side of the family, the Italian side, and like them, I’d always been a big foodie. I loved fast food, convenience food, healthy food, luxury food. You named it; I was probably going to eat it. I liked to think of myself as a sensualist in that respect, though really, I just loved to eat.

Nuala and I had connected over email a few weeks ago. I told her a bit about my life: just finished high school; headed to college to study Business and Accounting in the fall; no boyfriend; two close BFFs, Lydia and Gwyn. And she’d filled me in on hers: about to start senior year of what they called secondary school at the end of summer; also no boyfriend (or girlfriend); a small group of friends, but no one she’d consider a BFF.

I felt a little sorry for her hearing the last part, but who was I to judge? Maybe not everybody needed a best friend.

We’d exchanged pictures so I knew what she looked like all grown up. She was still blonde and willowy; only now, she could add ethereally beautiful to the list.

I spotted her right away. She wore a pale yellow sun dress paired with a white cotton wrap, ankle boots, and tortoiseshell glasses. She looked fresh and glorious while I felt like death warmed over after the long flight.

I’d been stuck sitting between a couple who at first wanted me to switch seats with them so they could sit together then proceeded to get into an argument and wanted to switch back again. I obliged them both times, mainly because I wasn’t an experienced flier and didn’t have the confidence to say no. Then the person sitting in front of me decided to put their seat back while I was leaning forward to take a sip from my water bottle, causing my head to bump harshly against the seat.

My forehead still smarted a little, and I was pretty sure I spotted a bruise blossoming when I saw myself in the bathroom mirror.

“Charli!” Nuala called, waving her hand in the air. “Over here.”

I smiled and tried not to grimace at the rank taste in my mouth. I really needed to brush my teeth and take a shower. I just hoped Nuala didn’t get a whiff of me.

“Hey, thanks so much for coming,” I said, smiling because, despite being exhausted, I was genuinely happy to see her. She was so bubbly and fresh that it was impossible not to feel better in her company.

“It’s no problem at all. I wanted to come. I’ve been so excited to see you. I can’t believe it’s been almost ten years. Madness!” She pulled me into a hug, and it was like being embraced by a fairy who smelled like Chanel. Her long hair fell in envious waves down her back while my thick mop was currently tied in a messy, frizzy knot.

“I’ve been excited to see you, too,” I said as she pulled away and reached for my suitcase.

“Let me take that for you. Come on. A car is waiting down below.”

My eyebrows rose. “A car?”

“Dad’s driver Stephen brought me here. I haven’t got my licence yet since I only started taking lessons a few weeks ago. Hopefully, I’ll be driving by the end of summer. Hey, maybe you and I could go on a road trip before you leave for home. Ah! That’s a great incentive for me to pass the test.”

I was gathering that Nuala was a bit of a golden retriever, full of smiles and cheerful chatter. “Not sure going on a road trip with someone who just passed their test is at the top of my to do list,” I deadpanned, and Nuala chuckled, slapping me on the arm.

“You cheeky bitch!” She paused, surveying me with a smile. “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

Her accent was lovely. Since my mother was Irish and never really lost her accent, I was used to hearing it—and doing a few impressions of it when Mom got on my nerves. Yes, I inherited the smartass gene from my dad. Anyway, Mom’s strict tones weren’t as pleasing to listen to as Nuala’s lyrical laughter.

“Can you drive? I bet you can. All Americans get cars when they’re, like, sixteen, right?”

I chuckled. “I can drive. I’ve never owned my own car, though. My mom lets me drive hers sometimes when she’s feeling generous, which isn’t very often.”

“Ah, right, your mother. Is she as much of a wagon as my parents say she is?”

I shot her a confused look. “Wagon?”

“Um, kind of difficult to deal with, you know, like a, a—”

“A bitch?” I supplied, and she winced, looking apologetic.

“I mean, well, I wouldn’t put it quite so bluntly.”

“She can be challenging, so yes, I suppose you could call her a wagon, but she’s all heart underneath, I promise.”

Frowning, I considered what Nuala said, feeling a little defensive. I was allowed to complain about Mom because she was my mom . I didn’t like the thought of other people being rude about her. Maybe this trip was a bad idea. “Your parents said that?”

Nuala’s eyes widened. “Oh, no! I mean, well, yes, Dad called her a wagon, but in a loving way. He didn’t mean any harm by it. He just thinks she’s stubborn. I know he cares for her a lot even though they had that big fight.”

“Yeah,” I said, somewhat assuaged. “Did he ever tell you what that was all about?”

“Nope. Did your mother tell you?”

I shook my head.

Nuala sighed. “It’s like some highly guarded secret. Anyway, let’s not let our parents’ drama get in the way of us being friends.” She linked her arm through mine as we entered the pickup zone. Nuala led me straight to a shiny black Range Rover, and my eyes bugged. I knew my uncle was loaded, but it was different seeing it in person. It made me wonder what their house was going to be like. I’d grown up in a small two-bed townhouse, so I suspected my uncle’s place would be a lot more luxurious than that.

The driver, Stephen, was a middle-aged man with ginger hair and a medium build. He took my suitcase from Nuala and gave me a polite nod.

“Charlotte, I take it?”

“That’s me, but you can call me Charli.”

“I’m Stephen. Pleasure to meet you,” he said and shook my hand. “Welcome to Dublin. I hope you had a pleasant flight.”

I resisted the urge to grimace. “It was … tolerable.”

Stephen chuckled. “Well, let’s hope the rest of your summer is better than tolerable.”

Nuala and I climbed in the back while Stephen returned to the driver’s seat. I put on my seatbelt, and we were off. I was immediately struck by the fact that we were driving on the opposite side of the road, which was going to take some getting used to. There wasn’t much to see at first, just a boring highway, but as we reached the seaside town of Malahide where my cousins lived, I started to see what all the fuss was about.

We sailed along a coastal road, the sky beginning to darken, and I stared out at the glittering water and sandy shore. Already, I couldn’t wait to go for long walks on the strand. The houses were so different from back home, the village streets lined with small cottages and cute little storefronts. I visualised myself strolling by on the long summer evenings, hanging out with Nuala and possibly flirting with some local Irish boys.

A fizzle of excitement filled my belly.

When we reached Nuala’s street, I noticed every house was huge . They were all different, though. One house was a period mansion, and the next was an ultra-modern build.

Nuala’s house fell into the latter category. It was two-storied with a long driveway, high walls surrounding the front of the property, a sleek iron gate, and large windows that went from floor to ceiling. Another SUV was parked out front, as well as a smaller sports car.

“My dad’s probably still at work, but Mam should be home. Oh, and my brothers will be around somewhere, too. You’re going to be shocked when you see how much they’ve changed. Derek is even taller than Dad now.”

I nodded and grabbed my backpack before following her from the car. I went to get my suitcase, too, but Stephen waved me away, saying he’d bring it inside for me. Nuala grabbed my hand and led me into the house. The front door was huge, with glass windows on either side. We stepped into a spacious, elegant entryway, and I was absorbed in taking it all in. I knew the Balfes were rich, but I hadn’t been expecting this. It was like walking into a house you’d see in an interior design magazine.

“Come on,” Nuala said. “I’ll give you a quick tour.”

I let her lead me into a huge living room filled with family photos and soft, cosy furnishings. One photo caught my attention. It showed Nuala and her two brothers, and she was right when she’d mentioned how much they’d changed. They didn’t look like the boys I remembered. Now, they were practically grown men.

Next, we went into the kitchen. Again, it was spacious and modern, with a giant island and what appeared to be a door leading into a pantry. Before Nuala could continue the tour, a woman emerged from the pantry. She had blonde highlighted hair and wore cream khakis paired with a flower print silk blouse. My Aunt Josephine.

“Charlotte! Look how you’ve grown. I hardly believed it when Nuala showed me the picture you sent. You’re even more gorgeous in the flesh.”

I knew she was being overly complimentary, but I didn’t correct her that I was feeling far from gorgeous. Instead, I offered a polite, “Thanks so much. And you can call me Charli.”

“Of course. We’re so happy to have you for the summer. Nuala’s been a hyper one ever since she heard you were coming.”

“Hey! Don’t let Charli know how uncool I am, Mother,” Nuala complained, and Josephine laughed.

“Thanks for inviting me, Aunt Josephine. This is my first trip overseas, so I’ve been kind of hyper about the whole thing, too.”

“It’s our pleasure, and if I’m calling you Charli, then you must call me Jo. You’re family. Come, let me show you where you’ll be staying.”

She led me upstairs, Nuala hot on our heels. I heard jovial voices coming from a room as we passed. The door was ajar, and I caught a quick glimpse of a group of guys hanging out playing pool. Was that a rec room?

“You can say hello to the boys later if you’d like. I bet you’re dying to rest and wash up first,” Aunt Jo said as she opened the door to a guest bedroom.

“Definitely,” I replied while she showed me around.

“The en suite is just through there. Make yourself at home and give a call if you need anything. Come on, Nuala. Let’s let Charli have some privacy. I’m sure she’s exhausted.”

Nuala looked disappointed to be escorted out, but she didn’t protest. That girl was too cute. I was glad she was still as friendly and outgoing as I remembered.

I sat down on the bed, taking it all in. Then I looked out the window and gasped. I had a sea view! This was amazing. I stood and went to peer out. The beach looked to be only a short walk from the house. Then I went to the other window, which looked out over the expansive rear garden. At home, Mom and me had a tiny little garden where we sometimes tried to get plants to grow and mostly failed. This garden looked like it had been designed by a professional landscaper, with neatly divided rows of flowers and perfectly trimmed grass, punctuated by a large, deep red Japanese Maple and several smaller trees of varying shades.

A part of me wanted to go down and check out the garden immediately, maybe sit on the grass beneath the maple, close my eyes, and breathe in the new air. Did the air in other countries always feel this different? Or was I imagining it?

Unfortunately, it was getting late, so I knew I should probably wait until the morning to check out the garden and beach. Besides, I still had to meet my other cousins, though I was a little more intimidated to see Tristan and Derek than I had been to see Nuala.

There was a knock on my door, and I went to open it, frowning when I found no one there. Then I glanced down and saw my suitcase. Thanks, Stephen! I wheeled it into the room and left it by the closet. Tomorrow was for unpacking. What I really needed was a shower.

I went into the en suite and stripped off. There was one of those fancy waterfall showers, and it was pure bliss when I stepped under the spray. I felt all the hours of travelling wash away as I stood there, enjoying the simple pleasure of warm, steamy water.

When I was done, I dried off and changed into the leggings and spare sweater I’d packed in my travel bag. Mom insisted I bring a spare set of clothing, plus socks and underwear, just in case my luggage got lost.

Speaking of Mom, I needed to call and let her know I’d landed. Dialling her number, the phone rang only twice before she picked up. It was almost nine Irish time but still early evening back home.

“Charli, is that you? Did you arrive safely?” she asked, a note of tension in her voice. She’d been stressed about me travelling alone, and it had taken much convincing to get her to agree to let me go on the trip in the first place.

“It’s me. And yes, I’ve arrived safely,” I replied, my tone reassuring. “Nuala picked me up at the airport. We just got to the house a little bit ago. Aunt Jo was home and showed me to my room. I still haven’t seen Uncle Padraig or the boys yet.”

“How did Jo look? Was she nice to you?” I could just imagine her fretfully worrying her lip.

“She looked great, and yes, she was perfectly nice and welcoming. I have my own room and everything. The house is huge.”

“Yes, well, don’t go getting used to the fancy lifestyle. The summer will be over before you know it, and you’ll be back to slumming it with your boring old mother again.”

“You’re not boring, and you’re not that old,” I said with a hint of teasing.

She let out a small laugh, some of her tension fading. “Haha! Okay, well, go get some rest, and give me another call in the morning. And don’t forget to send me some pictures when you get a chance.”

“I will! Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too, honey.”

We hung up, and I collapsed back on the bed, closing my eyes. Nine was an okay time to fall asleep, right? Mom said to try not to sleep until it was dark out to avoid jet lag. I knew it was still early, but my body was crying out for rest.

I reached out and turned off the lamp then lay my head on the pillow that was the perfect mix of soft and firm and smelled like clean laundry. Even if I had to work part-time, I had a feeling this summer was going to be amazing. I’d never stayed anywhere so luxurious.

I almost drifted off when I became aware of low rock music playing somewhere down the hall. I suspected it was coming from the rec room, or whatever they called it here. Male laughter filtered through as I tossed and turned, trying my best to ignore the noise. Eventually, I gave up, turned the lamp back on, and sat up.

I guess it was time to meet the male cousins, then.

Padding down the hall in my socks, I pushed open the door to find a bunch of guys hanging out. There was a pool table in the middle of the room, plus some lounge chairs and a couch. I spotted Derek first, the eldest. He was very tall, just as in the picture from earlier, with dark brown hair and the same brown eyes as his sister. Tristan was fair, like his twin, but his eyes were a lighter brown. Both boys were conventionally good looking.

A guy with auburn hair leaned over the pool table, taking a shot, while another with dark hair, who looked part Asian, stood back holding the cue and watching his opponent size up the table. There was one more guy who sat on the couch. Even though he was sitting down, I could tell he’d be tall if he were standing. He seemed to be the least outgoing of the bunch and was a little on the chubby side. He was handsome, though, in a husky bear sort of way. His hair was sandy brown, a bit shaggy, and he wore a Fallout 3 T-shirt.

Immediately, I knew we could be friends.

As soon as my presence was noted, the boys all fell silent, each of them taking me in. Derek was the first to step forward, holding out his hand with a polite smile.

“You must be Charlotte,” he said warmly. “The last time we met, you were a lot shorter.”

“I could say the same of you,” I replied, shaking his hand. “And it’s Charli. Only my mom calls me Charlotte. And you’re … Derek?”

“That’s right. This here’s my brother, Tristan.” Nuala’s twin gave me a nod and a wide smile before striding across the room. Instead of shaking my hand, he pulled me into a hug, just as his sister had done.

When he pulled back, his eyes were alight. “Charli! Do you remember playing hide and seek when we were little? You’d hide behind the curtains, and even after I found you, you’d pretend to be invisible.”

I laughed because I did remember. “Yes, actually. I’d completely forgotten about that.”

“Good times! Well, I’m glad you’re here. Our sister has been talking about you non-stop.”

“Oh? What’s she been saying?”

“Now, now, nobody likes a compliment fisher. Just know it was all good.”

The auburn-haired guy, who appeared to have taken his shot, put down his pool cue and approached. He was by far the best looking of the group and by the way he held himself, he knew it a little too well. “This is our friend, Aidan,” Derek introduced.

“We all go to school together,” Tristan put in.

“Hi, Aidan,” I said, not giving him too big a smile since I sensed this guy received far too many flirtatious smiles from girls as it was.

“And I’m Theo,” the dark-haired guy said. He was cute and shook my hand politely before returning to the pool table.

“The quiet one over there is Rhys,” Tristan said, motioning to his friend over on the couch. Rhys’ eyes flicked up, meeting mine.

“Hi, Rhys,” I said, shooting him a bigger smile than I’d given the others, mainly because he was a fellow fan of my favourite video game. “I like your T-shirt. Fallout rocks.”

At this, he blinked, seeming surprised when he looked down at what he was wearing. He glanced up. He had gorgeous eyes, a deep ocean blue. His eyebrows lifted slightly. “You play?”

“Hell, yeah. But if there’s a console around here, it’s probably best not to tell me. I’ll end up spending half the summer in front of a screen.”

Rhys rubbed the side of his head. “It’s fairly addictive, all right.”

I bobbed my head, and a silence followed. I was all out of small talk, so I returned my attention to Derek. He seemed to be the unofficial leader.

“I hate to complain, but do you guys mind keeping the noise down? I’m trying to sleep, and my room’s just down the hall.”

Derek’s eyes widened like he hadn’t even realised they were being loud. “Right, sorry! Yeah, we’ll keep it down.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

With one last glance in Rhys’ direction—who was no longer looking my way—I left and returned to my room. I pulled off my sweater and leggings, wearing only my undershirt to sleep in. To their credit, the boys did keep the noise down, though I could still hear them a little.

After tossing and turning a few times, I eventually drifted off to sleep. Unfortunately, I only slept for about an hour before I woke up again. It was probably the new environment. I hadn’t had enough time to get settled and relax into it yet.

My throat was dry, so I got up, pulled my leggings back on, and went in search of water. I could hear the boys still playing pool in the rec room. Continuing on socked feet to the stairway, a door opened, and someone emerged. It was Rhys, the guy with the Fallout T-shirt, and the room he’d left appeared to be the main bathroom. I’d been right about him being tall standing up. He had to be a few inches above six feet.

He paused when he saw me, and I self-consciously ran a hand through my hair. “Hi, again. I was just—”

“Can you still not sleep?” he asked, frowning.

“Oh, no, I did sleep—for like an hour. It’s probably going to take a while for me to get used to the new time zone.”

He nodded, his eyes tracing my features. I wondered what he saw, a hazel-eyed girl with no makeup and crazy bedhead. “If you need us to be quieter, I can talk to the lads.”

“There’s no need for that. Honestly, it’s the time zone. I could be in a noiseless void, and I’d still find something to toss and turn over.” I gave a small, nervous chuckle. Rhys didn’t say anything. He probably thought I was some American weirdo. I cleared my throat. “Well, I was just going to find some water. I woke up thirsty. See you around.”

I was about to leave, when he reached out and touched my arm. The feel of his hand on my bare skin gave my heart a little zip . “Wait here a second.”

I nodded, wondering what he was doing, when he went back inside the rec room before reemerging with a bottle of water. “Here, take this. There’s a mini-fridge in there.”

His fingers briefly skimmed mine as he handed me the water, their warmth a contrast to the icy cold bottle. Again, I felt that small zip of awareness.

“A mini-fridge. Fancy. How the other half lives, eh,” I said then grimaced because he probably came from a rich family, too, if he went to school with Tristan and Derek.

The barest hint of a smile touched his lips. “Mini-fridges are pretty extravagant, I guess.”

“Right?” I laughed.

“So, your family isn’t, uh …” he trailed off, so I finished for him.

“Loaded like the Balfes? Not at all. My mom is Padraig’s sister, but she’s a school teacher. We’re not rich by any stretch of the imagination. All this is pretty crazy to me,” I said, motioning around the vast hallway with its glossy marble floors.

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it? But you get used to it.”

“You don’t live in one of the other giant houses on this street, then?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, far from it.”

“Well, it’s good to know there’s a fellow commoner about. We should stick together.”

At this, his cheeks seemed to colour. Again, he rubbed his neck. Was that a nervous tick? “Sure, yeah,” he paused then, looking me over. He started to frown, taking what appeared to be an instinctive step forward, his hand reaching out, before he stopped himself and rocked back on his feet. He shoved his hands in his pockets, a faint look of concern crossing his features. “What happened to your forehead?”

I frowned, unsure what he meant at first, then remembered the bruise. I touched it softly. “Ah, right. A little mishap on the plane. The person in front of me let their seat back when I was leaning forward, and I banged my head.”

Rhys winced. “Is it sore?”

“Only a little.”

He pressed his lips together, still staring at me, though he did seem strangely relieved the bruise wasn’t anything to be concerned about. Finally, he tore his gaze away. “I better get back.”

“Of course, thanks for the water,” I said, watching him leave before returning to my room.