Page 10 of Quiet Longing

“It’s busy, but I don’t mind that. I get along with the other kitchen staff, so that makes things a lot easier.”

“Right. Dad always says the kitchen staff are like their own little family. Chef Moira makes some amazing dishes. We always have her Beef Wellington on Christmas Eve. Oh, and I’m obsessed with her chili soup. We actually have some in the freezer. I eat it whenever I need a little pick me up.”

“I agree about the soup,” I said. “It’s incredible, and I love her lasagne. It’s my favourite.”

“Oh! I think we might have some of that in the freezer, too,” Nuala said, her eyes alight.

“What do you have in the freezer?” asked a silky voice, and I glanced away from Nuala to see Charli had joined us. She was even prettier up close. I’d never seen such thick, dark eyelashes. “Please don’t say dead body parts,” she continued jokingly, and Nuala gave a chuckle.

“No dead bodies. I was talking about the chili soup that the head chef at the hotel makes. Rhys and I are obsessed,” Nuala replied, and Charli glanced between the two of us.

“In that case, I really need to try this soup,” she said just as some pop song came on, and the group of girls who Nuala seemed nervous about started squealing excitedly. Again, her attention went to them, her lips turning down unhappily as she scratched nervously at her arm. Suddenly, Tristan approached and started talking to a petite blonde. They were too far away to hear what was being said, but it looked confrontational. Tristan began gesticulating towards the door as though telling her she had to leave.

“Hey, why don’t we have some soup now? I can defrost it quickly in the microwave,” Nuala suggested, her voice tight with anxiety.

Charli studied her cousin. It appeared she’d noticed Nuala’s nervousness, too, but she didn’t point it out. Instead she replied, “Sure, let’s do it.”

“Great, come on back,” Nuala said, and we followed her.

I could reason with myself that I was hungry for chili soup, but that would be a lie. I followed Nuala because it meant spending some time away from the party with her very beautiful, way out of my league, American cousin.

3.

Charli

The party hadn’t spread throughout the house yet, so it was much quieter in the kitchen. I was concerned about Nuala, especially with how anxious she seemed when those girls had arrived. I could tell Rhys noticed, too, his blue eyes studying her with concern. It made me wonder if he had a thing for her, or if he was just a generally perceptive and empathic sort of guy.

I hadn’t known what to say when Aunt Jo had declared they were throwing a party in my honour and inviting all the neighbours and local kids. Obviously, it would’ve been rude and ungrateful to ask them to cancel it. So, I found myself going along with the whole thing, even though the thought of mingling made me feel like I was going to break out in a rash.

Being a social butterfly wasn’t my natural state, but I could hang tough if needed.

My first full day in Ireland had gone well. I’d woken up early, unpacked, then taken a long walk on the beach. It was so beautiful here. There was something peaceful about it, like coming home to a place I’d never been. I’d sat on the sand, watching the seagulls flock by, the sky a vibrant azure blue. It was like being inside a postcard.

When I’d gotten back from my walk, I was informed about the party. What I’d really wanted to do was curl up with a book in my room and rest since I had my first shift at the hotel in the morning. But it wasn’t to be.

Perching on a stool by the kitchen island, I watched Nuala rifle through the freezer for this famous chili soup. Finally, she found a large container and popped it into the microwave. Rhys sat on the stool next to mine. I was aware of his attention on myprofile before I turned, and he quickly glanced away as though caught doing something he shouldn’t be. My chest fluttered. There was something about him, the quiet intensity perhaps, that drew me in. And those blue eyes, wow; I found myself getting caught in them several times already, and it had only been a few minutes.

“So,” I said, “Who was that girl Tristan was arguing with? An ex of his?”

A flash of pain briefly claimed Nuala’s features before she snorted. “She wishes. No. That was Kiera. We used to be close, but we had a fight a few months ago, and she’s iced me out ever since. The rest of the girls sided with her. I don’t even know why she came here tonight. Tristan must’ve posted about the party on social media or something.”

“What was the fight about?”

Nuala chewed on her lip. “I’d rather not talk about it.” The microwave pinged, and she turned to remove the soup before going to grab some bowls. I glanced at Rhys, and he shrugged as if to say,If she doesn’t want to talk about it you can’t force her.

I wondered if he knew anything about the fight. Something hardened inside me. Who did that girl think she was, turning the friend group against Nuala and then showing up to a party at her house? She sounded like an entitled bitch. My mother hen instincts kicked in. If Tristan hadn’t already approached this Kiera girl and told her to leave, I might’ve done so myself. Nuala was such a cheerful, kind, inoffensive person. I didn’t understand how anyone could treat her badly. That would be like stomping on a fairy’s wing just for the heck of it.

“Wait until you taste this soup,” Nuala said, forced cheeriness in her voice. “It’s to die for.” She passed a bowl and spoon across the counter to me, then another bowl to Rhys, before pouring one for herself. I lifted a spoonful to my mouth and groaned as soon as the spicy goodness met my tongue. Atantalising mixture of chili, cumin, paprika, and a hint of garlic assaulted my senses, and I gave a quiet moan.

What? I already said I was a foodie, and this soup was the nicest thing I’d tasted in a while.

Nuala laughed. “I take it from your moan of ecstasy you like it.”

“It’s amazing,” I said, glancing at Rhys for a second and finding that his eyes, slightly hooded, were on my mouth. Oh, crap, was there soup on my lips? I grabbed a napkin and quickly dabbed them, embarrassed. When I looked at him again, he was focused on his own bowl of soup.

The three of us ate quietly for a few minutes, the room filled with sounds of our quiet, contented slurping. As soon as I became aware of it, I couldn’t hold in my amusement, a giggle escaping me.

Nuala glanced at me. “What’s so funny?”

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