Finding Ronan’s Heart by Melanie Moreland

Chapter One

Ronan

Istared at the screen, tilting my head and squinting.

“No, something is off.”

Paul looked over my shoulder, his large frame casting a shadow across the screen. “Too much?” he asked.

“Or not enough,” I replied.

I erased the double columns, replacing them with heavier, single structures. I added detail to the bottom, then shaded them black on the top.

“Perfect.” Jeremy clapped his hand on my shoulder. “That makes it unique.”

I pulled off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. I really needed to get them checked.

“I’ll send it to Addi and see what she thinks.”

Jeremy flung himself into the chair beside me. “She’ll love it. We’ll start on the room layouts tomorrow. She only wants twenty-four, right?”

I reached for the thermos of water I carried everywhere. I liked it cold. Ice-cold, so the large double-walled flask was filled several times a day, and I added lots of ice each time.

“Yeah. All luxurious, self-contained. Separate bedrooms, kitchen area, sitting room, and spectacular baths.”

Paul chuckled as he poured a coffee and sat down. “This is going to be amazing.”

“It took us long enough to acquire the old Port Albany hotel. Addi wants it to handshake with the winery. Stay at the resort, visit the winery. Host an event at the winery, book your guests at the hotel. She plans on shuttles, cross-promotion, all of it.”

“Heather already has ideas for the interior. The whole beachy vibe thing. She’s been sketching for days.”

I grinned. Heather VanRyan was one of our “cousins.” We had a massive extended family, and many of us worked here at ABC Corp—a division of BAM that specialized in business and land development outside the Toronto area—or the GTA, as it was known. Our fathers pretty much had that city sewn shut. As the next generation, we brought a new energy to the mix. We bought the land, created the businesses, and ran them. The talent in our family was rich and varied, and we worked well together, having grown up surrounded by one another. We’d never felt any pressure from our fathers to be part of their world. Thomas, Bentley’s son, was a marine biologist and had zero interest in the corporate world—except the money his father donated to the causes dear to his son’s heart. Shelby, Maddox’s daughter, was an artist and preferred her canvases to that of a boardroom. Each cousin found their own path, and those that led to ABC were welcomed. We supported one another with the love and respect our parents had taught us.

Melissa Hanson, one of the office assistants, knocked on the door, holding a bag. “I got your lunch.”

Paul grinned. “Awesome. I’m starved.”

Jeremy reached for the bag, but I frowned. “I never gave you my order.”

She laughed. “As if I need it. Turkey on white, lots of lettuce and mustard. All the same for the threesome. You guys are so easy.”

“Actually, I prefer extra tomatoes and mayo. No mustard or lettuce. And sourdough.”

She looked startled. “Pardon me? You always get the same.”

“Because no one ever asks,” I muttered under my breath. “It’s fine,” I said loud enough for her to hear. I’d eat the damn thing, because I always did. “It’s all good.”

“And I got some chips,” she added and left.

I didn’t ask what kind. There wasn’t a hope in hell they would be sour cream and onion.

Sure enough, Paul pulled out three bags of salt and vinegar chips.

I took them without complaint. It wasn’t worth the hassle over a sandwich and chips.

We worked most of the afternoon together, perfecting the design and the specs for the building.

It was early evening when I slapped the laptop shut. “We should celebrate tonight. Tacos?” I asked hopefully.

Paul and Jeremy exchanged a glance, and I frowned.

“What?”

“Um, we have a date.”

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. “Again?” It had happened several times lately when they had turned me down. Used to being part of a threesome that hung together constantly, I was missing my brothers.

I was the eldest triplet. Born four minutes before Paul and six before Jeremy, I loved flaunting my older status. We weren’t identical triplets, although we were similar. We were all tall and broad like our father, Aiden. We had green eyes that came from our mother, Cami. Our personalities were more like our dad’s—loud, boisterous, and happy. Paul and Jeremy were most alike—I was slightly taller, a little broader, and as my brothers liked to tell me, the worrier. I kept it hidden quite well, but I did tend to watch over my brothers, as if those four- and six-minute differences in our ages made me the responsible one. I was quieter than they were, not that many people noticed. They saw the group, not the individual, most of the time. People often exclaimed how much we looked alike, but if you took a moment, you would realize how different we actually were.

I narrowed my eyes. “You both have a date, or are you seeing the same girl?”

They laughed. “No. We’re each seeing a different girl.”

“Oh. Friends?”

Paul looked uncomfortable. “Sisters, actually.” He exchanged a glance with Jeremy. “Twins.”

“You’re seeing twins?” I repeated. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, feeling oddly hurt. “Where did you meet them?”

Jeremy leaned forward. “At Oscar’s Tavern—a few weeks ago. That night we went to the bar after the gym and you went home.”

I nodded in remembrance. I wasn’t as big on the bar scene as my brothers were. Overall, I tended to be more serious and lived a quieter life. I headed home and did a little more work, while they headed to the bar for some beer and wings. We each had a condo in Toronto in the same building. I also had a house in Port Albany, where I spent a lot of time. That was another difference between us—they liked Port Albany to visit but preferred the bustle of the city. I enjoyed the peace of living by the water and, more often than not, went to Port Albany on the weekends and some weeknights. We’d grown up there, and to this day, I felt more at home in the quieter area than the craziness of Toronto. Paul and Jeremy were the opposite—another difference between us most people didn’t see.

“We didn’t tell you…” Paul paused and looked at Jeremy. “We didn’t say anything because we didn’t want you upset, Ronan. We didn’t want you to think we were abandoning you.”

I had to laugh. I had noticed they weren’t around as much, even when I was in the condo. “You’re not abandoning me. I’m happy you’re seeing someone. Or two someones. I can’t believe you met twins. I mean, what are the odds?”

“I know. And the girls are great.”

“Do you double-date all the time?”

“No. Some nights. Other times, we go our separate ways. We want the girls to meet you.”

“I’d like that.” I hesitated. “Do your girls have names, or do you just call them ‘the girls’?”

Paul laughed. “Kim and Diane.”

Jeremy smiled. “They’re awesome. Kim, my girl, is a teacher. Paul’s girl, Diane, is a nurse. They have a friend we thought might suit if you…” He let his words hang in the air.

I shook my head. “Not interested, but thanks.”

“Not everyone is like Loni,” Paul offered, his voice low.

I held up my hand to stop that conversation. “I know. I’m just not interested.”

“Okay. Wanna come meet them with us? We’re going for pizza and a movie.”

I held back my grimace. That sounded like a planned date and me being a third wheel. No thanks.

“No. You go ahead. Maybe we can meet up this weekend?”

“Great. We’ll check with them and talk tomorrow.”

We high-fived and they left, already discussing their plans and forgetting about leaving me there.

I shook my head at that strange thought. It wasn’t as if we were glued at the hip. Our parents had always encouraged some separation, even growing up. The truth was, that plan often failed. We were in the same classes at school when we were younger, and the teachers always kept us together for projects and groups. Even older, when choosing our own classes, we ended up together since we all were headed in the same direction, career-wise. Our lives were always interwoven, although we had our own friends and all of us had dated different girls at one time or another. We were incredibly close. Somehow, we always traveled toward the same goal, always a part of one another’s lives. This was the first time Paul and Jeremy were doing something together I wasn’t part of that seemed long term—not a simple “we’ve decided to go away for the weekend without you,” sort of thing.

It felt strange.

I shook my head. I was a grown-ass man, and I was perfectly fine being on my own. I took my laptop to my office, grabbed my gym bag, and shut the door. I wasn’t surprised to find I was the last one in the office as I headed down the hall and took the steps. That happened a lot these days. Addi and Brayden had been married almost two years but still acted like newlyweds. Gracie’s daughter, Kylie, was almost one, and she liked to be home as early as possible. Reed and Heather were in Port Albany today, overseeing the last of the new building setup. After many months of delays, we had finally broken ground on a building that would hold ABC Corp, and we would be moving within the next few weeks.

I planned on moving to Port Albany permanently. So had Paul and Jeremy. It had been their plan as well since we’d be working there every day—it only made sense. My steps faltered when I thought about that idea. Now that they had met these girls, did that change their plans on moving? I had never lived anywhere but with or close to my brothers. Hell, even our condos were next to one another on the same floor of the building. I always knew that one day that would change. We would marry and settle down. But somehow, I had thought we’d be in the same zip code.

Suddenly, I didn’t want to use the gym in the building. I didn’t want to be alone. Changing my direction, I headed out the front door and to the gym a few blocks over. It was a nice spring evening, perfect for a walk. A good workout was what I needed to clear my head.

* * *

Two hours later, I wiped my forehead as I slowed down the treadmill. I had done a lot of weights, some cardio, and taken a yoga class. I loved anything that helped calm my mind and keep me strong. It had been what I needed. I talked to some of the trainers and other people working out, enjoying the hum of the machines and music around me. I liked this place and would miss it once I moved, but I hoped to convince the owner to add one out in Port Albany. His philosophy of small and personal worked. His staff was stellar and his equipment top-notch. We had a great home gym in the BAM compound, as we called the cluster of houses where we lived, but at times, such as tonight, I liked being with other people.

I grabbed a quick shower, towel dried my hair, and headed outside, inhaling the bracing cool night air. It was only just past nine, but I decided the craving for tacos had passed. I inhaled again, the scent of coffee and something savory and delicious hitting my nose. A small coffee shop-type throwback restaurant had opened up recently across the street. The sign was lit up and people were inside, but it wasn’t packed.

Deciding a burger and coffee would hit the spot, I headed across the street, the scent of the grilling meat too much to resist.

I stepped in, the aroma intensifying. I headed to a corner booth, taking off my coat and sliding onto the vinyl-covered bench. Glancing around, I had to smile. It was decorated to look old. Formica countertops with round stools lined the wall by the kitchen. An open pass-through let you see the busy cooks at work. The floor was distressed to appear dated. The walls were covered in bright posters, and there was even a jukebox. I liked it.

I plucked a menu from the holder and studied it, suddenly starving.

The sound of a throat clearing and a soft voice interrupted my study of the menu.

“Welcome to Nifty Fifty. Are you ready to order, or do you need a minute?”

I shut the menu, already responding. “Nope. I’m good. I’ll have—”

I looked up and froze.

Dark-brown eyes, soft and gentle as a fawn’s, stared at me. A face I could only describe as adorable was surrounded by hair the color of sand in sunlight. Golds, blonds, and browns were woven into wild, chin-length corkscrew curls that moved as she tilted her head, waiting for me to continue. She had rounded cheeks, a full mouth, and a nose with a perfect line of freckles across the bridge that stood out on her pale skin.

She frowned at my silence. “Did you want to hear the specials?”

I cleared my throat. “No. Double cheeseburger with grilled onions and the works—except lettuce.”

Those expressive eyes widened, and she nodded, the corkscrew curls on her head bouncing.

“I know, right? Hot lettuce is wrong. It’s for salads. Not a garnish.”

I grinned. “Exactly. I’ll have one of those too. Ranch on the side. Onion rings and fries. And a vanilla shake. Ice water.” I pointed to the display of cakes under domes that lined the counter. “Probably a slice of the hummingbird cake after with coffee. Please,” I added.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Is someone joining you?” she asked, a grin playing on her full lips. Her eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Nope.” I slapped my chest. “Growing boy. I need to keep up my strength.”

She blinked, and I was sure she muttered, “God give me strength,” before she turned and hurried away.

I was mesmerized by her full ass. Curvy. The perfect handful. I guessed her to be not much over the five-foot mark. Maybe by a couple of inches. She was cute. Sexy. I liked the freckles.

I shook my head to clear it. Where the hell were these thoughts coming from? I wasn’t looking for a relationship.

Still, my gaze followed her around as she worked. Smiling, laughing with customers. Filling coffee cups, clearing and wiping tables. She walked my way, a large salad and ice water balanced on the tray along with the milkshake. The metal container glistened in the light, and I could hardly wait to taste the cold, creamy concoction. She set everything down in front of me, including a slice of cake, wrapped on the plate.

“There you go, big guy. Burger will be up soon. I snagged you one of the last pieces of cake, and I added a little extra frosting. I figured you for an icing lover.”

I grinned. I was, indeed, an icing lover. Especially cream cheese icing.

“Thanks, ah…” I trailed off, unable to see a name tag.

She smiled, her dark eyes warm.

“Elizabeth. But my friends call me Beth.” Her cheeks colored adorably, and she cleared her throat. “My name is Beth.”

Her oversharing made me grin. “Nice to meet you, Beth. I’m Ronan.” I held out my hand, and she shook it, her small palm settling on mine as if made to go there. Her fingers were petite, just like the rest of her, and I squeezed them before releasing her hand.

I indicated the cake. “And thanks.”

Two darker circles of color pooled under her skin, and she blinked.

“No problem.”

She hurried away, my gaze once again drawn to her before I reached for the salad, wondering why my night suddenly seemed a little brighter.

It had to be the cake.

Right?