Redeem Me (Beckett Brothers #2)

14. Caelon

Chapter Fourteen

CAELON

I wake up feeling slightly lighter than I’ve felt all week. Admittedly, I fucked up yesterday. Tongue fucking Ivy on my desk was not on my to-do list, but at least we’ve agreed it will never happen again. Last night seemed to clear some of the tension between us.

I throw on a pair of running shorts and hit my home gym before Owen and Orla wake up. I do a full upper body workout and run ten kilometres before eight. By the time I reach the kitchen, Liz is dishing up breakfast for the kids. I scan the room until I find what I’m looking for. Or rather, who I’m looking for.

My molars clank together as I take in the tiny, faded denim shorts barely flirting with her full, round ass cheeks, and, I kid you not, a fucking bikini top, secured by tiny strings that I could snap with my teeth.

Did she not hear a fucking word I said last night?

Does she want me to bend her over the kitchen counter and fuck her into next week?

She’s barefoot, stretching up on her tiptoes to reach a coffee cup .

‘Daddy,’ Orla squeals.

Owen jumps from his seat and runs towards me, wrapping his arms around my legs.

I lift him up and balance him on my hip. ‘Morning, buddy. How did you sleep?’

‘Okay,’ he says quietly, his gaze falling to the floor.

I place my hand on the back of his head and whisper into his ear. ‘Do you want me to change your bed sheets?’

He nods, nibbling on his lower lip. ‘Sorry, Daddy.’

‘Don’t be sorry, buddy. Everything’s okay,’ I whisper. Changing the sheets gives me the perfect excuse to escape my half-naked nanny.

‘Can we still go to the beach today?’ Hope lights his eyes.

‘Sure. Give me an hour to get sorted and shower and grab something to eat.’

‘Morning,’ Ivy calls over her shoulder as she hits the button on the coffee machine. ‘You want a cup?’

‘No,’ I say gruffly, before remembering we’re supposed to be friends. Though if she can’t hold up her end of the bargain by dressing appropriately, why should I hold up mine?

She spins to face me with a questioning look. My eyes fall to her breasts, supported by two red triangular scraps of Lycra tied at the nape of her neck.

She arches a single eyebrow.

‘No, thank you .’ I force the words out and tear my eyes from her tits.

‘Scrambled eggs?’ Liz calls across the kitchen.

‘I’m not hungry.’ Not for food, anyway. I slide Owen down my legs until his feet meet the floor. ‘Eat your breakfast, buddy. You’ll need energy for the beach.’

How am I going to survive a trip to the beach with Ivy looking like that?

There’s only one thing for it. We’ll go early, swim, then come straight home. I’ll invent a meeting. Something urgent. A crisis at one of the hotels. A construction disaster. A severe bout of highly contagious stomach flu. I rake my fingers through my cropped hair, running my nails over my scalp.

‘I packed you a picnic.’ Liz nods towards a huge wicker basket with a folding lid. ‘It’s great you’re having a beach day.’ Her tone is overflowing with approval.

‘Oh, I…’ Fuck. ‘It’s just for an hour.’

‘Daddy, you promised!’ Owen’s face falls.

Orla inhales sharply.

Ivy’s head whips around.

‘Or two, maybe.’ I exhale a huge breath and accept my fate.

An hour later, I load the kids into Ivy’s Mercedes, strapping them in carefully.

Ivy hovers nervously by the driver’s side.

‘I’ll drive. Get in.’ I pack the picnic in the boot along with buckets, spades and way too many inflatables, then strap myself in.

The only reason we’re taking her car is because I don’t want a driver hanging around all day. It’s rare I go out without security, but how dangerous can the beach be? I’m certainly not going to bump into Jack O’Connor there. But if I did, I’d have no qualms about drowning him. Slowly.

No, Damon and the others can wait here, man the house. I don’t want any eyes other than mine on Ivy in that bikini. Which is why we’re going to the smallest, quietest beach in Dublin. The same beach I spent my childhood on. It’s a stone’s throw from my parents’ house. The only way to access it is via a short, woodland trail at the back of their land. And seeing as my parents are on holiday touring Europe right now, there’s no chance of running into them on one of their daily walks .

‘Which beach are we going to?’ Ivy asks, as I start the engine.

‘It’s a surprise.’

‘Oh, I love surprises!’ She rubs her hands together gleefully.

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ I say wryly.

Ivy spends the entire journey singing Taylor Swift songs to Orla, teaching her the words to Love Story until it’s stuck in all of our fucking heads.

Even Owen is singing along.

I can’t cope.

When we finally reach the woodland trail, I park the car in a shady spot beneath some sycamore trees and unload the stuff from the boot.

‘We’re at Nanny and Grandad’s beach!’ Orla announces, bounding from one pink sandalled foot to the other. ‘Can we go see them?’

‘They’re not here. They’re on holiday.’ Thankfully. Because if my mother knew I was at the beach with my kids’ nanny, she’d get all sorts of stupid notions. Notions that have no right being in anyone’s head – especially mine.

‘This is your parents’ land?’ Ivy’s hand sweeps over the vast horizon.

‘Yes.’ I nod, looking anywhere but at her again. I suppose I should be grateful she threw on a tiny vest top over the bikini, but those legs should be illegal in public.

‘You grew up here?’ Awe taints her tone.

‘Yes.’ I don’t mean to be short with her, but I can’t help it.

Just when I think things can’t get any worse, I hear a familiar engine rumbling in the distance. There’s only one person who drives a Porsche who would be on my parents’ land.

My brother, Rian.

Rian is the baby of the family. James is the oldest, then me, Killian, Sean, and Rian. Plus, there’s my sister, Zara, who is just finishing college. Rian pretends to run a chain of exclusive bars and nightclubs, but in reality, he mostly parties in them, prowling for his next shag. James was a playboy in his day, but he had nothing on Rian. Our youngest brother has more ‘swifties’ than Taylor herself.

And fucking Love Story is still stuck on repeat in my head.

Ivy’s eyes flick towards mine. ‘Do we have company?’

‘It would appear so, unfortunately.’ I close my eyes and will for a tornado to sweep me as far the fuck away from here as possible. Rian’s probably brought some chick down here to woo and bang on the beach.

But no, it gets worse.

It’s not some random woman in the passenger seat. It’s my brother, Sean.

Ivy grabs the kids’ hands as the Porsche skids to a stop and my brothers hop out.

‘What do we have here?’ Rian lifts his Raybans from his eyes, balancing them on his head as he lets out a low whistle. His beady eyes rove over the length of Ivy’s body before finally reaching her face.

‘Uncle Rian!’ Owen launches at him, as Orla reaches for Sean.

‘What a lovely surprise.’ Rian lifts Owen up without taking his eyes off my nanny. I don’t think the surprise is seeing his niece and nephew.

‘Guys, this is Ivy, our nanny.’ My words are steeped with a clear warning. ‘Ivy, this is Sean, my middle brother, and Rian, my littlest.’

‘Huh,’ Rian scoffs, ‘I might be the youngest, but any woman who knows me doesn’t call me little.’ He waggles his eyebrows at Ivy, a dirty laugh tumbling from his lips. I thump his bicep hard enough to make him yelp .

‘What was that for?’ he says with wide eyes. The little fucker.

‘Behave yourself in front of the kids,’ I warn gruffly.

Sean extends a hand to shake Ivy’s. Thankfully, he’s a little more reserved than Rian, who’s bounding around like a dog with two dicks. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Ivy,’ Sean says warmly.

Apparently, I should have punched Rian harder, because he didn’t get the memo. He takes Ivy’s hand and lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss against the back of it. ‘Ivy, it’s a pleasure.’ He jerks a thumb towards me. ‘I hope he’s treating you better than the other nannies.’

Girlish laughter peals from Ivy’s luscious lips as her eyes lock with mine. ‘He’s certainly treating me differently, by all accounts.’

Oh, I’ve a good mind to bend her over, smack her ass and tease her with my tongue again for that smart remark.

But no. I’m on my best behaviour.

I cut to the chase. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Same as you, by the look of it.’ Rian nods towards the picnic basket. ‘Thought we’d make the most of the day. James is on his way down with Scarlett and the babies,’ Rian gloats gleefully. ‘They’ll be here any minute. We couldn’t have planned it any better if we’d tried! I’m going to call Killian. Maybe he’s free to come down too.’

Could this outing get any worse?