Page 27 of Where We Bloom (The Blackwells of Montana #3)

Chapter Fourteen

CONNOR

“ T ake me home, Miller,” I say as I exit the bookshop and get in the back seat of the SUV.

I have calls to make, work to do, and I need to pack a bag to take to Billie’s house this evening.

Speaking of that, Miller’s not going to like this news.

Not that it matters.

“I’ll be staying at Billie’s tonight,” I inform him as he pulls onto the road. I don’t miss the way he frowns at me in the rearview, and I raise an eyebrow at him. “Problem?”

“Her security is shit.”

He’s not telling me anything I don’t know.

“Doesn’t change anything about where I’ll be spending the night.”

Miller simply sighs and keeps his mouth shut, which is wise.

My goal is to get Billie moved in with me sooner rather than later. Not because there’s anything at all wrong with her home—aside from the security. I just want her in mine.

Permanently.

My phone rings, and I smile when I see the name of an old friend on the screen.

“Kane,” I say in greeting. “So nice of you to return my call. From four bleeding days ago.”

“I don’t answer the fecking phone,” he reminds me, sounding as cheerful as ever. “If my wife didn’t remind me to look at it once in a while, I wouldn’t even have it.”

“And how is Stasia?” I ask him. “Does she miss me? I bet she pines.”

“Go feck yourself,” he mutters, making me grin. “She can’t stand you, and you know it. Why are you bleedin’ calling me, boyo?”

“Are you on your island these days or in Galway?”

Kane and I grew up together as boys in Galway.

He and his family moved to an island off the coast of Seattle before we were teenagers, but we stayed in touch.

I went into the family business, but Kane became a world-renowned glass artist, with museums dedicated to his work in several major cities across the globe.

His pieces are owned by royalty, celebrities, and anyone willing to pay a lot of money for them.

“We’re on the island right now,” he says, “but we’ll be headed over to Galway in about a week. I have a show opening in the Galway gallery in two weeks.”

I narrow my eyes. “You don’t say. What might an old mate of yours have to do to get two tickets to that? ”

“Buy one of my pieces that night, and we’ll call it even.”

“I can do that. I also want to talk to you about a commission.”

Miller pulls up in front of my house, and I walk inside and straight through to my office, where I put the call on speaker and set the phone on my desk.

“What do you want?” he asks. I can hear the scowl in his voice, and it makes me chuckle.

“You know, for someone who charges a feckton of money for his art, you sure complain about making it.”

“That’s part of the job,” he says easily. “What are you after then, mate?”

“I want a piece for my Montana home, but it’s a gift for my girl.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Say that again.”

“Shut up.”

“No, did you just say that you have a girl? Wait, this is Connor Gallagher, and I didn’t dial the wrong bleeding number, right?”

“You’re a prick,” I inform him, finally making him laugh. “I want blues and greens, inspired by the mountains. I can send you pictures of the scenery around here. Or you can swing through here on your way to Ireland if you have time.”

“It’s always better to see it in person,” he murmurs, and I can tell the wheels are turning. “But I don’t think I can make it work before Galway. I could do it on the way back. ”

“I can make that work,” I confirm. “I’d like the piece here in a few weeks.”

There’s another heavy pause. “Are you an eejit? I don’t dance on command, and you know it. That timing is impossible.”

“Kane—”

“However,” he continues, “I have a few pieces already done that aren’t coming with me to Ireland, and I have one particular in mind that might work. I’ll send you a photo now.”

I pick up my phone, and when the image comes through, my eyebrows lift. “Aye, that’s beautiful, mate. I’ll take it.”

“It was meant for the museum, so it’ll cost you.”

“I’ll pay double your standard fee.”

He growls in my ear, and I laugh because Kane never passes up extra money, despite being good and wealthy in his own right.

“Fine. We’ll make it work. Tell me about her.”

I shove my hands in my pockets and stare out at the mountains I’ve grown to love over the past year.

“She’s everything, mate. That’s the long and the short of it.”

“Welcome to the club,” he says, sounding cheerful for the first time. “I’ll see you soon.”

He hangs up, and I sit at the desk and dial another number.

“This is Cassie,” my chef answers. “How can I help you, Mr. Gallagher?”

“I’d like to make some changes to our arrangement.” I outline exactly what I expect of her moving forward. When I’m finished, I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Oh, this is no problem. I thought this call might be coming. I’m sorry if I made Billie uncomfortable in any way.”

“It’s not your fault. I’ll give her your number so she can call you and inform you of her preferences.”

“I look forward to that. Thanks, Mr. Gallagher.”

I end that call, then check the time and make one more.

“Anderson,” my architect barks in my ear.

“I want you to build me a library. Today.”

He laughs. “Of course, you do. I can’t do it today.”

I grind my molars together. “When?”

“First, I need information. How big? Are we remodeling existing rooms or adding on to the house? Is this for you?”

I close my eyes. I don’t want to explain any more. I just want it to happen.

“I’ll get more information and call you back. I want this project to move fast, Anderson.”

“When the hell don’t you want it to move fast?” He snorts. “Get me more info, and I’ll see what I can do.”

I should pass this along to an assistant, but I want anything I plan for my angel to come from me.

Strangely, for me anyway, this isn’t about control.

I’ve learned to delegate well over the years and have built skilled and trustworthy teams across several countries.

But for Billie ? For the woman who has become my everything?

Only I can design what I want her to luxuriate in.

Only I can ensure every chair is as comfortable to read in as the ones in her shop.

And only I can guarantee that when she walks into her library, she feels … cherished. Adored.

Loved.

After two more hours of work, I meet Miller at the car, where he’s waiting with the back door open.

This man knows my schedule better than I do.

Ten minutes later, we pull up to my sister, Skyla, and her boyfriend’s farmhouse.

Beckett Blackwell owns this ranch and the dairy farm on it and does well with the business.

He also built eight small cabins in the woods with an incredible view of the mountains to use as vacation rentals, and although they rent well enough, Beckett has discovered that dealing with guests is his least favorite thing in all the world.

So he’s taken them off the rental market, and we’re working to offer them to families with sick children who want to come here on holiday.

I’m providing the charity and the money, and Beckett’s providing the cabins—for a fee of course—and we’re going to build a lodge for more guest suites, a kitchen, and a common area.

“You’re the only bloke I know who would come out to a ranch in a suit,” Skyla says as she steps out onto the porch and grins at me.

“I’ve been working,” I inform her and pull her in for a hug. “No time to change. Where’s your man, then?”

“He’s coming over from the barn,” she replies as her dog, Riley, steps outside with her.

I scratch his head between his ears, and he leans into me, reminding me of my bumble bee and how much she loves to be touched.

I like to be touched.

When she said those words to me in the shower, I felt … shame. Because everything slipped into place at that moment.

She loves sex, but she blooms when she’s snuggled.

She leans into my hand when I cup her cheek.

She can only sleep well when I have my arms wrapped around her.

It made me feel so much shame that I hadn’t picked up on it sooner, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure she’s treasured, if she’ll let me.

“I’m looking forward to getting this project off the ground,” she says as I hear Beckett walk up and join us.

We pile into a UTV with Riley and head over to the cabins on the other side of the property. Just as every time before, when we come around the bend and the mountains are revealed from behind some trees, my breath catches.

The mountains are spread out before us, with a pretty meadow full of wildflowers in the foreground, and it’s simply stunning.

Yes, it’s going to be perfect for our charity.

“We’re thinking about building the lodge over here,” Skyla begins, pointing to just behind the cabins. “The first floor won’t have much of a view, but the second floor, where all the suites would be, will have a great view of those mountains.”

We walk the space, making plans and taking notes, and when we’re finished, I prop my hands on my hips and turn to the man my sister loves.

“You’re sure about this, then?”

“I am,” he says as he wraps his arm around Skyla and tugs her into his side.

“I’m still surprised that you want to use my ranch for this, but I love the idea of offering it to families who want some special time together.

My guys and I are already planning ahead to horseback rides, lessons, and tours of the dairy operation, if people want it.

And we can put together information for fishing and rafting guides, hiking excursions, all kinds of things. ”

“I think that’s excellent,” I reply with a nod. “We’ll finish the plans for the lodge, and if all goes as intended, we should open by spring. In the meantime, you’re losing revenue because you’ve stopped offering nightly rentals here.”

“It won’t break me.” He shrugs.

“I’m going to pay you what your normal average monthly revenue would be from now until we’re able to open next year.”

“No.” Beckett shakes his head, and Skyla clamps her lips closed, holding back a grin. “I don’t need the money.”

“You told me last year that you depend on that money.”

“The dairy’s doing well enough to make up the difference.”

“I don’t fecking care.” I shake my head. “You don’t need to struggle while we’re gearing up for this. Consider it coming from Skyla if you don’t want it from me. ”

“I don’t want it from her, either.”

I raise an eyebrow, and now Skyla snorts.

“It’s fun to watch the pair of you spar back and forth,” she says. “You’re both so bleeding stubborn, I’ll be interested to see who wins.”

“I’m not with your sister for her money.”

“No one thinks you are,” I reply. “I never said that.”

We stare each other down for a couple of minutes, and then Beckett glances down at my sister.

“No.”

“We’ll revisit this conversation,” I reply. “Changing the subject, I’d like to fly your parents here in time for Sunday dinner this weekend.”

Beckett scowls. “Why?”

“Because Billie misses them, and I caught her crying this afternoon because of it, and I can fix that. Billie doesn’t need to be crying over anything at all.”

Skyla’s smile is a mile wide.

“Are you going to tell me what the fuck’s going on between you and my sister?” Beckett asks.

“I’m falling in love with her.”

He blinks at that, and Skyla’s eyes fill with tears.

“Oh, Connor.” She sniffles and wipes her cheek. “Oh, that’s lovely. She’s my best friend, and?—”

“Whoa.” Beckett holds up a hand. “That’s romantic and all, but isn’t it fast?”

“I’ve known her longer than you’ve known Skyla.” I cross my arms over my chest. “What else do you have to say? ”

“I—” He shakes his head. “Well, hell. Billie has a soft heart, and she’s smart as fuck, and?—”

“I know.” My voice isn’t as hard when I interrupt him.

I know what it is to love a sister and be worried about her.

Mine is standing right next to him. “She’s the best woman I’ve ever met, and that’s the truth of it, Beckett.

She misses her da, and it made her cry today, so I’m going to make sure she sees him and your mum.

Do you want to call them, or do you want me to handle it? ”

“Just send me the information, and I’ll forward it to them,” Beckett says. “We’ll get them here.”

I nod and tug my sister to me so I can hug her and kiss her wee head.

“Stop crying, a stór. ”

“It’s not a sad cry.” She sniffs. “It’s a happy one. I have to get ready for our book club.”

“Don’t tell her about her parents coming for a visit,” I say. “It’s a surprise.”

“I can keep a secret.” She bites her lip, then bounces on her toes. “But thank the gods I don’t have to keep it for long.”

“You’re not good at keeping a secret.”

“Uh, yes, I am. I didn’t tell Ma and Da that I was being stalked for three years. ”

“That’s because you’re a bloody moron,” I counter.

“While I don’t disagree that that was a mistake,” Beckett interjects, “I can’t let you call my woman a moron, man.”

“I’m her brother.”

“Still.” He shrugs. “Can’t do it. ”

“Fine, I’ll do it when you’re not around.”

Skyla snorts, and we head back to the house. Before she runs inside to get ready, Skyla wraps her arms around me again and hugs me tight.

“I’m really happy for you,” she says. “Be nice to her, or I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“Thank you.” I kiss her cheek, and then she’s off, leaving Beckett and me standing in the driveway. “Are you going to warn me as well, then?”

“Nah, Skyla can make you suffer more than I can,” he says. “And you already know that if it got too bad, my brothers and I would simply kill you and feed you to the goats.”

I blink at him. “I thought goats were vegetarians.”

“Goats will eat anything.” He smiles at me and pats me on the back. “Wanna stay for dinner?”

“No thanks. I have work to do. I’ll be in touch about everything.”

I get in the back of the SUV, ready to go home. After packing a bag for tonight, I’ll work until it’s time to go get my angel.

Because even a few hours without her are too bloody long.