Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I was impressed that she neither grimaced nor coughed at the liquor. “You drink a lot?” I asked.
She shook her head, handing the bottle to me. “No, but I’ve had a wee nip here or there.”
I chuckled. “It definitely helps chase away the chill.”
She settled back, pulling my jacket tight around her and crossed one booted foot over the other. “Why were ye setting outside on the fence, drinking good ol’ Irish whiskey?”
I shook my head, gave her a sly smile. “That’s totally uninteresting. Tell me about your date instead.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said haughtily.
“Of course you do,” I replied, calling her bluff. “I can tell that your date was probably an insufferable bore. Go ahead and tell me all about it and I’ll gladly bash him up good for you.”
Fiona ducked her head and giggled. Not a girlish tinkle, but almost a nervous laugh of relief that I at least somewhat understood the silliness of her situation. “It was… insufferable,” she admitted, glancing at me.
That had me grinning. “That bad, huh?”
“Worse,” she exclaimed, taking the bottle from my hand and tipping it to her mouth. I tried hard not to focus on those full lips and the tiny peek of tongue as the liquid passed into her mouth.
“Lemme guess,” I said as she shoved the bottle at me, but I didn’t take another drink. I wanted to keep my wits about me with this girl. “He talked about himself the whole time?”
She groaned dramatically. “Aye. The entire feckin’ time. Until he decided to inform me we were to be married.”
A punch of fury twisted my gut. “He just came right out and said it?”
She nodded, her expression dark. “Like it was already a done deal.”
“And what do you think about that?”
She sighed, pulling my coat tighter around her. “I think I’d rather throw meself into a pile of manure every day for the rest of my life than marry that man.”
I couldn’t help the bark of laughter as I shook my head. “Don’t hold back, darlin’.”
She turned to me then, her expression raw. “Ye ever feel trapped, Tommy?”
I studied her, reading between the lines. “Nope.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “Never?”
“Nope.” I took another sip because this conversation just might call for it, then passed the bottle back. “Because no one can force me to do a damn thing I don’t want to do.”
She inhaled sharply, something flickering across her face. Like the thought had never occurred to her. Like she hadn’t realized that was even an option.
“That’s easy for ye to say as a man,” she murmured.
“I don’t disagree it can be harder for women, but that doesn’t mean you don’t try.”
She sighed heavily, looking at the bottle as if she wanted to down the entire thing. “But if I marry Brian, our farms will merge and it’s what’s best for Glenhaven.”
I frowned. “Why’s that your responsibility?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, clearly searching for an answer. Finally, she stammered, “Because I’m a Conlan. And Glenhaven is our family’s farm. It’s part of who I am.”
I could almost buy that if her father had allowed her to be a true part of the business, but it seemed he just wanted to keep her in the corner. “Hell, Fi, your dad won’t even let you ride steeplechase and that’s because he doesn’t trust you. Why are you still breaking your back to please him?”
Her lips pressed together, and something stormy crossed her face. “Ye don’t understand. Ye don’t know a thing about legacy.”
I twisted slightly and leaned closer to her. “You’re wrong about that. I know a great deal about legacy. Probably more than you.”
Her brows knit together. “What do ye mean?”
“Well, for one… our family’s farm is very old. It dates back to the mid-1800s. It survived war and the Great Depression. And every generation of Blackburns, whether they were male or female, worked until their hands bled to keep it going. I know plenty about what it means to protect a legacy that you love, and I’m next in line for it.”
“I love this farm,” she said in a small voice. “And I love my family.”
I gave her a soft smile. “I get that. But I also know that a legacy means nothing if you lose yourself in it. And most certainly not for a loyalty that wasn’t deserved.”
Her breath caught. “Not deserved?”
“Why would you sacrifice your own happiness for a parent who didn’t love you the way a parent should?”
Anger flashed in Fiona’s eyes. “Who says my da doesn’t love me?”
I took the chance of pissing her off further. “Oh, he might love you, but not the way you deserve.” Something dark flickered across her face, but I continued. “If he loved you the way you deserved, he’d never force someone on you who wouldn’t make you happy. He’d never ask you to sacrifice your happiness to make the family richer.”