Juice: The O'Malleys Book 1, contemporary Adult Romance (19 page)

Rory laughed and hugged her to him.

“Hmm, I remember you looked shit hot in your wet t-shirt. I definitely think I could get to like wet and wild, Cass.” Marie groaned.

“Oh, stop it you two. It’s making my breakfast want to heave itself onto the floor watching you moon over each other. Back in a sec.”

Marie left the office and went upstairs to find Mark. Rory whispered in Cass’ ear.

“I could look at those tits in a wet t-shirt every day of the week. Thanks for last night by the way. You’ll have to explain to me how you managed that position. And I definitely think another demonstration is in order.”

Cass blushed and licked the remaining frosting from his mouth.

“Maybe, if you are very, very good.”

She was rewarded with a crack on the arse that had her yelping and running away from him.

Mark and Marie came down the stairs chatting; Mark walked straight over to Rory and shook his hand gripping him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Rory good to see you. How’re things?”

“Good to see you Mark. Busy, busy. Are you coming over tomorrow night guys? I’m doing a stew especially for you. Bring a few beers maybe. I have a bottle of Irish whiskey my uncle sent over for me, it needs an airing.”

Mark’s eyes lit up and Cass felt her heart squeeze for her friend. Mark had been so lonely since Harry’s death and hadn’t bonded with anyone in London until he met Rory. It did her heart good to see him open himself up to Rory’s friendship and she knew Marie felt it too.

“Oh, by the way, there is a Gala ball on in the Morton Hotel next Friday week. It’s in aid of a charity I’m involved with, for children within the foster system. I’m not usually a fan of these type of things, but it’s a worthy cause and the money does make a huge difference. Anyway I have plenty of tickets, and thought we could all go. Darragh is going too. No pressure, if-”

“Yes!” yelled Marie and Cass in unison, while Mark shook his head. Rory looked at him his eyebrows raised.

Mark smirked at him. “These two heard the word ball and they are already sold. I’m sure we would love to attend. Dress code?”

“Oh, black tie all the way. Ladies, get the bling and glad rags out of the wardrobe. You are going to the ball.”

Cass and Marie squealed, and then buried their heads together talking in hushed whispers about gowns and shoes. Mark nodded towards Rory.

“You’ve lost them for the day. No further talking or work shall be done in the gallery. Fancy joining me for a chat up stairs.”

“I sure do,” said Rory looking at the two girls as though they had sprouted wings.

(
Rory)

Patience is a poultice for all wounds.

Irish proverb

R
ory let his hand hover above the phone for a moment before he picked up the receiver and made the call.

Maybe no one would be home, maybe he could leave it for another few days. Nope. His father answered on the second ring.

“Hello, Gearóid O’Malley speaking.”

“Hey dad, its Rory, just giving a quick ring to check up on you guys. How’re ya?”

“Hey Rory, just one minute son. Louisa, it’s Ror on the phone! She's coming now, Rory. Hang on one second. Jaysus, that woman! She is talking to Mary outside, Louisa! Louisa!”

“Dad. Dad!” Rory shouted into the phone exasperated. How had his dad survived in the business world for as long as he had when he still didn’t seem to understand basic phone etiquette?

“Hi Rory I’m back, your mother is on the other line. Say hi.”

“Hi mama.”

“Rory! How are you, are you coming home for Christmas, it’s only six weeks away? We will all be here, Granny O’Malley and Rian. Darragh’s coming too, but I suppose you know that already. And Annie with the girls. They are getting so big. And Aoife too, she is so looking forward to seeing you. You can’t disappoint her now. Can you?”

She sounded almost pleading on the phone, it tugged at his heart. He put his head back and looked up at the ceiling of his office and sighed softly. Biting his lip he made a spilt second decision.

“Yeah, I’m coming home for Christmas and I’m bringing someone with me. Someone I’d like you all to meet.”

“A woman!” his dad practically jumped down the phone.

“Oh a girl Gearóid, he’s bringing a girl!”

  “I heard that Louisa. Oh wait, is it a girl Ror? Because if it’s another man that’s fine with us. We are totally fine with homosexuality in this house, you know. No homophobes here. We know all about it and love…when love hits you and you can’t-”

“Dad…dad…DAD!!  It’s a woman okay, a woman.”

Rory heard his mamma cough lightly.

“Oh Gearóid, you and your dry humour. And is she staying here? What am I saying? Of course she is. Oh I’ll get the spare room ready. Granny O’Malley will be delighted. She said yesterday, that you were never going to produce a grandchild. She said you spend too much time with floozies and you would never find a nice girl. Is she a nice girl?”

“Ah-” His father coughed.

“Louisa, I thought Granny O’Malley said that Rory was gay and he hung with floozies because he needed a moustache?”

  Rory heard his dad whispering and took the handset from his ear and stared at it.

His mother sounded confused.

“A beard Gearóid. I’m sure she said a beard. Is it a beard they say Rory or a moustache?”

“A beard, she’s a beard. NO! Wait! They say beard, this girl is not a beard.  She’s a woman! Where the heck did Granny hear that, for heaven’s sake?”

“She was watching Brokeback Mountain at the community hall and this young lad doesn’t want to tell his parents that he is gay, so he has a wife. Mary Conway told her she was a-um-beard. She thought maybe-”

“No mama, I have no secrets to impart, I am straight. Although, if this disappoints you I can always-”

“No. You’re fine Rory, as long as she is a nice girl and she is treating you right. What am I saying, son? Oh of course she is a nice girl. Of course she is. Is she? Now don't take this the wrong way son but, is she that April one who rang here a few times looking for you?”

Rory gritted his teeth, damn April and her craziness. Darragh, had obviously filled them all in. He reminded himself to never tell his brother anything again.

“No mama, it’s not her, this girl…this girl is an artist, her name is Cass. Cassidy Evans.”

“Oh,” his parents said simultaneously.

His father spoke first.

“An artist you say. Sure that’s great, lad. She sounds like a lovely girl altogether. I remember back in the 60’s, I had a girl of my own who was an artist. No. No I’m wrong there, Rory. She was an artist’s model. All free love and that kind of thing. That girl spent more time with her clothes off, I’ll tell you a story about her. Once, when we all had a bit of pot, you see-” Rory blocked his ears momentarily.

“Mama, are you still there?”

“I’m here; maybe we’ll keep that one for the grandchildren darling.”

“Okay,” said his dad, and Rory could almost see the twinkle of mischief in his dad’s eyes.

“Looking forward to seeing you, Rory. When will you fly in?”

“On the twenty first. How’s Aoife?”

Silence echoed around the line and Rory shut his eyes picturing her in his head. Aoife, his baby sister lying in the bed coughing and wheezing for breath. Now she was better, better in body but her mind was still stuck somewhere between joy at the chance of life and sadness at the way in which she had been given a second chance.

“She has her good days and bad days Ror. The doctor has been to see her. He says it will take time for her to adjust.”

“It’s been three years!”

“She needs time to process it all. If she could meet the persons family. Maybe it would help. She has written a few letters. But, never posts them. She is afraid they will hate her.” Rory heard the crack in his mothers’ voice and knew he was making the right decision. Cass could give his sister peace. Give her permission to live again. He would have to convince her to cooperate. But he was used to negotiations and Cass had a good heart. She would help him. He was sure of it.

“Right guys, I love you both and I’ll see you on the twenty first. I’ll keep in touch.” His parents spent another five minutes saying goodbyes, but Rory’s mind was already somewhere else. Planning and plotting. He had to make this work. For Aoife, for Cass, for all of them.

(
Rory)

One cockroach always recognises another.

Irish proverb

C
ass and Marie giggled in the bedroom, while Rory and Mark paced in the kitchen.

“Does it always take so long?” Rory asked Mark looking at his watch. He was due to give a speech at the gala dinner. Marie opened the door and stepped out. Mark flew over to her.

“Holyyyyyyyy shit Marie. You look amazing.” Marie smiled at him and twirled in front of them. Dressed in a knee-length silver sequined dress, she looked like a little fairy doll.

Rory smiled at her.

“Beautiful Marie!”

“Cass, Rory is hitting on me!” Marie called back into the bedroom. Rory stared at her open mouthed. Mark laughed loudly. “Don’t worry, she’s taking the piss, mate.” Rory shook his head. “You guys are nuts.”

“Do you have a limo outside Rory?” Marie asked.

“I sure do guys, do you want to go ahead and sit in it.” Rory shook his head as the two fumbled out the door at lightning speed. He was so fond of them both. They were a lovely couple, so full of fun and obvious in their adoration of each other.

Looking at the photo frames on Cass’ windowsill, he came across one of Harry and Cass at their school graduation. The two of them arm and arm, their black caps far back on their heads. Cass had her hand on her hips and was leaning into Harry, her head thrown back and her eyes laughing. Harry had his arm slung protectively across Cass’ shoulders and was looking at her. His face was soft and the love he shared for his sister shone brightly on his face. Rory felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

I’m sorry fella; I’ve been a right bastard. I’ll tell her tonight. I promise you. No matter what the consequences are, I’m telling her. I did it for my baby sister, I hope you understand that. I never guessed for a minute that I’d fall for Cass. I bet you did though. I bet you knew that no man could be around her for very long without becoming consumed by her. I love her Harry. And I wish I could have told you how much.

“Hey you.”

Rory turned and was almost rendered breathless by the vision in front of him. Cass was dressed in a chocolate coloured velvet gown. It was tight, moulded to her body hugging each luscious curve. It was long; he could see matching high heeled sandals peeping from the bottom. A slit was cut high in her thigh and he could see just the hint of a lacy stocking when she moved. The top of the dress was strapless and pushed her breasts up high and proud. She wore silver drop earrings and her hair was pushed over to one side and held there with a white begonia. She looked like a 1940’s siren of the silver screen. She smiled then and her blood red lipstick contrasted with her white teeth. Her eyes were smoky and her lashes heavy and black. He stood for a moment and just stared.