Loe raamatut: «The Summer Flings Travel Club: A Fun, Flirty and Hilarious Beach Read»

Chapter One

‘This is where we’re staying?’

Ciara Bree gaped for so long her eyes watered and stung. When they had first talked about a round the world trip, back when they had spent those endless days in their college library at Oxford, she’d never expected this.

Glamping in some fancy static caravan rigged out for the three of them, yes. Maybe even the odd budget hotel or hostel – something that would be affordable with the cash she’d managed to save from her part-time uni job. But this… A mathematics and statistics graduate from Wicklow didn’t have words for this.

Her bestie, Elle Muir, sauntered towards the white mini-mansion, right smack at the bottom of Hollywood Hill. ‘My granddad said we could crash at his houses during our trip, as long as we promise not to break anything. No point wasting precious shopping credit when we can have this for free.’

‘C’mon Ciara!’ Her other best friend, Gem, shoved her shoulder, but she must have still been in shock because her legs refused to budge. They’d never been poor growing up, and her da had always given her everything she wanted – and some things she didn’t, like tuition fees to Oxford. She’d known Gem and Elle came from families so rich the Crown Jewels would be their Mas’ idea of day jewellery, but she’d never met them in the flesh and it was much easier to believe her two best friends liked to exaggerate. After all, like her, they were super smart. Only difference was, when she’d gone to Oxford, she was The Ultimate Geek and they were more Geek Chic.

With a laugh, her friend said, ‘It’s not like we’re staying over there. You can pick your chin off the floor now.’

Following Gem’s outstretched arm, towards a mini-version of the White House, Ciara saw the comparison. They were staying in what looked to be the garage of the super-mansion she had first seen – though this garage still came with a huge drive, palm trees and exotic-looking flowers galore. But… feck. Their temporary home had her flustered, or maybe that was the midday Californian sun made stronger since it reflected off the bright walls.

Ciara just shook her head. ‘I’ll never roll my eyes at you again when you go on and on about this stuff.’

Gem pulled back her bright red hair into a ponytail then swiped a coat of sweat off her forehead. ‘I want to have a dip in the pool to cool off before the jet lag kicks in. You coming?’

Nodding, she followed wordlessly into the house to be shocked anew. If the outside had her chin dropping the inside would have her tongue rolling down to meet it. Chic, shiny floors covered what she assumed was the entrance vestibule, though this was much bigger than her dorm room. Bigger than five, probably. A massive, spiral staircase was situated opposite the door and artwork that looked suspiciously like originals instead of knock offs hung strategically on the walls. Ciara was scared to breathe for fear of steaming up the shiny floor or staining the pristine walls, and feck! She still had her shoes on!

‘Let’s turn this duty free bottle of tequila into something strong and icy before we hit the pool.’ Elle held up the airport bag with a grin.

‘Ooo iced margaritas?’ Gem asked.

At Elle’s nod they rolled their suitcases through the swanky house. Ciara worried that her Tesco special bag was spoiling the look of the whole place just by being there.

The kitchen was bigger than her whole house, complete with shiny chrome accessories, a kitchen bar and small dining table – not to mention the integrated appliances and even crushed ice maker. It did make Elle’s job of filling a massive jug with ice much easier, but everything seemed so foreign, like she was watching an episode of MTV Cribs not getting ready for her first stop on a crazy round the world trip.

‘Should we take our bags up first?’ she asked, having visions of jet lag kicking in when she was poolside and falling into a margarita induced coma.

‘No way. I say we dig around them for a bikini then chill at the pool for a while,’ Elle replied.

Gem agreed, unzipping her bag and picking out one of goodness knew how many two pieces, all still with the tags on. Ciara did the same. After all, she was as unlikely to win a fight with Elle as she was able to pick up a car and swing it over her head.

They took turns in the laundry room getting poolside ready and slapping on the SPF 30, then Elle led them through another hall.

‘Does that belong to one of you?’ She asked, toeing a bag out her way with her flip flop.

The sports bag was so full it almost burst the seams. ‘No,’ Ciara said at the same time Gem did.

‘Hmm,’ Elle scowled at the bag like it was filled with manure, then shrugged. ‘The housekeeper must have left it.’

Ciara slipped her sunglasses on the second they were outside. Elle and Gem insisted panda eyes was never a good look but since the weather back home was overcast eighty percent of the year, bright sunlight generally fried her retinas. And if she wanted to stay awake instead of lying out here all day frazzling, she needed to keep her eyes open.

It wasn’t too hard to manage since she was hit with another dose of the OMGs. The pool area was about the size of a holiday complex, with a stone terrace, terracotta furniture and the comfiest sun loungers she’d ever had the pleasure of lying on.

‘Drink up girls. The Adventures of Muir, Bree and Howard have begun!’ Elle filled up their glasses.

Gem pouted. ‘I still prefer Geeks on Tour.’

‘Nonsense. We’re too chic to be geeks, right Ciara?’ Elle said.

They might be, but all she’d ever been was a geek as far as her schoolmates were concerned. Instead of taking sides, she shrugged and chugged down some of the drink. Her eyes watered and she made a vow to make the next round or that margarita coma might come sooner than she’d feared.

‘It’s really, really, scorching here,’ she said to change the subject. Sticky lotion aside, her whole body was melting.

‘It’s great isn’t it?’ Elle said, chugging down more of her drink.

Against her better judgement, she did the same but the ice didn’t help cool her off. Since they’d left the wonderfully air conditioned house, the lack of a breeze and sun beating down was a little too much for her.

‘Feck it,’ she said, finishing the last of her drink and getting up.

‘Don’t wuss out on us already, Ciara. We’ve got hours and hours of tanning time left,’ Gem said.

‘Then I’m going to have hours and hours of cooling off to do.’ The tequila had already created a tiny, giddy buzz and the thought that she was in California, LA, hell Hollywood, kicked in.

That’s all it took to get over the shock of Elle’s grandfather’s house, the heat, the worry she might pass out on the sun lounger and frazzle – after all crazy girlie holidays were about having fun and not worrying about the little things. So she kicked off her flip flops, removed her sunglasses, took a run for it, and jumped into the pool.

The water was lovely, not cold, more like a warm bath that had been left for a bit to cool down. She swam from one end half way to the other before she broke the surface grinning.

Gem and Elle were already up, giggling at her change of attitude – she had to admit she’d been a bit of a moody cow so far. In her defence, the never ending plane journey had made her so restless and the cabin caged her in. Sitting for a few hours was her limit before the boredom had made her stir crazy… not even the inflight entertainment could distract her.

‘Good to see the tequila’s kicked in,’ Gem said, jumping in too.

Elle didn’t, instead she stayed on the side and pulled her long, blonde hair to the top of her head, twisting it into a bun. What was worrying was the look on her face that said she was a girl with a plan. A plan Ciara wasn’t going to like.

‘I have an idea, since we’re just having a pool day…’

Yup, the wicked glint in her azure eyes definitely meant Ciara was going to hate her friend’s idea.

Elle dashed back into the house and Ciara threw an anxious glance at Gem who rolled her eyes and started swimming like a pro. Sighing, she floated at the deep end, trying not to worry about what mad thing Elle had come up with now.

She was in LA with her two best friends, she needed to relax. Or learn how to. She’d always had studying and classes, even during the holidays. It might help a little if she stopped worrying over having no clue about her future career, or much else. But she was determined she wasn’t going to think about that until she had to. No point in making herself miserable and ruining this trip.

Soon, Elle returned with two huge poles wrapped together by what looked like a net under her arm, clutching a bottle of tequila. After ditching the bottle she came to the pool and started to unravel the two poles.

‘Ciara grab this one and stick it in the hole at the other side. Gem, there should be a ball in that shed,’ Elle commanded.

Ciara did as asked, giving into Elle’s bossy streak because it made life so much easier and she knew Elle didn’t mean anything bad by it. That was who she was, and why her granddad was going to train her to be CEO of their family business. Elle wasn’t all designer and class, she had authority and command too.

The net that stretched across the middle of the pool reminded her of 90210 volleyball games on the beach. She’d never played and didn’t expect to be very good since she had as much coordination as a faulty compass. Maybe the tequila was the prize rather than the punishment.

Gem returned from the shed with a massive, blown up ball which made her relax a little. Hitting something that huge should be easy, even for her.

‘Okay, tequila volleyball,’ Elle said. She’d found a whistle somewhere and blew it once, then put the string it was on around her neck. ‘One on one, you can only hit the ball with your fists and no bouncing off the water or the sides. If it hits the surface, you lose a point.’

‘First to five?’ Gem asked, sliding back into the pool.

‘Yes, and I play the winner,’ Elle announced.

‘What does the winner get?’ she asked, hoping it was a shot of the tequila.

Elle smiled. ‘Bragging rights. The looser of each point gets a shot of this.’ She held up the bottle.

Half an hour of losing and she’d be legless.

Elle blew the whistle, one sharp, shrill sound. ‘Go!’

Gem threw the ball in the air and wacked it with her fist. Ciara tried to run forward but the resistance in the water made it feel like she was wading through sludge. Determined she wasn’t going to lose, she dove forward, hands clenched together and hit the ball as hard as she could before she face planted into the pool.

She righted herself in time to see Gem fall back into the water and watch the ball hit home on the other side of the net. She laughed, relieved not to be the first to hit the shots.

Elle took the bottle over as Gem coughed up water. ‘Open up and swallow as you go.’

‘You said one shot, not half the bottle,’ Gem protested.

Elle pulled an expression that on anyone else could be mistaken for innocent but on her looked too suspicious. ‘A shot is all you’re getting, honest.’

‘Give me the bottle then.’ Gem wasn’t fooled.

‘My game, my rules. The ref gets to hold the bottle.’

Ciara giggled quietly, knowing there was no way Gem was going to win.

‘Open up,’ Elle said, tipping the open bottle above Gem’s head.

‘Elle, give me the bloody thing. You’ll drown me in tequila.’

Blue, puppy dog eyes no man could resist followed. ‘Don’t you trust me?’

‘No one who knows you does, Elly.’

The voice did not belong to any of them and the girls all whirled around.

A man walked into the garden – a very tall, very hot and sweaty man with nothing on but trainers and a pair of shorts. Dark eyes, hair and a slight day old growth on his jaw that made Ciara feel dizzy wondering how it would feel against her face, her neck, her…

And how could she miss those abs? Better definition than the polo players at uni, no contest, and those little dips disappearing under his shorts at each side made her finger tips itch to reach out and touch…

For the second time that day she was imitating a fly catcher.

Elle stormed across the terracotta tiles to get in the man’s face. ‘Don’t you dare think you’re staying here! Granddad said we could have this place for a few days.’

The hottie didn’t shrivel away from the heat of Elle’s fury like anyone else would have, but his frown and the way his jaw hardened made her wonder if he had a temper of his own.

‘I’m not going anywhere except for a shower.’ He shoved by her and headed for the house.

Ciara had never seen Elle’s temples throb like they were about to burst before, but she guessed there was a first thing for everything. Elle took off after him, shouting ‘Pack up and get out, I mean it!’

Ciara made her way to the edge of the pool, about to go after them but Gem grabbed her arm.

‘Don’t, seriously. You don’t want to end up in the middle of a fight between them.’

‘Who is he?’ Elle had never mentioned a brother. Maybe an ex?

Gem’s eyes got that gooey way they did when she nattered on about Aidan Price, superstar actor extraordinaire. ‘He’s Zack Muir, Elle’s hotter, older cousin.’

Ciara didn’t want to look at why that made her relax a smidgen. After all, he didn’t spare her a second glance and even if he had, she wouldn’t do anything with him. Tempting as it might be. She wasn’t a stayer, just like her ma. She got bored too easily.

Sighing, she thought about the way he looked drenched in sweat with all that delicious muscle on display and reckoned it would take a long, long time before she got bored of someone like him.

The voices upstairs were too muffled to make out the words the Muirs were throwing at each other – Elle’s voice was high pitched, ringing through the patio doors while Zack’s rough and sexy tone didn’t carry. Maybe Elle was giving him a monologue stream of abuse.

‘Back to the game, sans tequila?’ Ciara asked.

Gem glanced up at the French doors lining the upper floor of the mansion. The sound of a door slamming shut was followed by a shriek.

‘Good idea. The splashing might drown out the crazy,’ Gem said.

It didn’t take long for Elle to come back, but it did take a while for her to lose her temper. They made another jug of iced margaritas. By the way Elle sucked down half the jug, she was either cooling down or heating up for round two. It was better for everyone if they could calm Elle down before she went catatonic, and since Gem seemed more interested in drying off with a magazine in hand it looked like it was up to her.

‘Elle, this house is huge. We can all squeeze in fine.’ And have rooms and rooms to spare.

Elle slipped off her Ray Bans again, no doubt to avoid reverse panda-eye. ‘That’s not the point. I just don’t want him to ruin LA for us with his moping. We have houses all over, why did he come here?’

He was moping? Ciara wanted to ask what had happened but this was about cheering Elle up, not grilling her about her gorgeous, mopey cousin. ‘He’s not going to ruin anything. We’re just cranky and jet lagged. A good long sleep and a cuppa in the morning and we’ll tackle Rodeo Drive.’

That earned her a grin and she thanked the stars the worst seemed over for now.

‘You’re right, we’ll just carry on like he isn’t here. He spends all his bloody time running and working out anyway. I don’t know why our granddad even keeps him on the books.’

Ciara nodded. She could pretend he wasn’t there if it meant there’d be no more screaming matches.

‘We have more important things to worry about,’ Gem chimed in. ‘Like what we’re wearing to Aiden’s premiere.’

Taking a sip of the cocktail was much, much safer than laughing at the way Gem spoke about the Hollywood star like she knew him – sometimes like she was dating him. And that’s all it took for Elle and Gem to have a marathon chat about what cut of gown they were going to keep an eye out for tomorrow, argue about the pros of Gucci against Marc Jacobs and Ciara decided it was time to clear out and heft her suitcase up god knew how many stairs before she was too shattered.

‘Which one will I take?’ she asked Elle.

‘Any. Most are the same and no doubt that shit has taken the master suite,’ Elle said with a scowl.

Ciara cleared out of the way before her friend erupted again.

As she roamed through the mini-mansion, suitcase in toe, she tried not to feel crappy about the dress she’d picked up in River Island for the premiere. She’d love to get glammed up and drip with designer gear and accessories but that wasn’t going to happen with the limited savings she had for the trip – the flights alone had ripped off a huge chunk.

But she was in LA, on the first part of her journey before she had to go home and face the fact she had no job, a lot of university debt, and no clue what she wanted to do with her life. In the grand scheme of things, worrying about a high street dress was ridiculous. She shoved everything from her mind and focused on the tasks at hand.

One, pull a possibly vital muscle by dragging her hundred pound suitcase up the stairs – what had she packed in it again? Cement? She didn’t want to imagine how flushed her pale skin was after, or whether her face looked like she’d pressed it into a puddle – especially since the hottie she wasn’t supposed to be thinking about was in the house somewhere.

Two, find a room that didn’t look like it had been taken by the gorgeous, sweaty hunk she shouldn’t wonder about. This was trickier. Every door she opened looked the same. Pale décor, silky looking sheets instead of a duvet, and mini balconies facing down the hill, showcasing the city below. Surreal.

There wasn’t so much as a rickety floor board in the house so when she heard someone clear their throat behind her she about jumped out of her flip flops. Turning, she prayed again that her face didn’t look like she’d sputtered her way round the London Marathon five minutes before.

‘Can I help you?’ Zack Muir asked.

Thank goodness he was fully dressed this time. She didn’t think she’d be able to force words out if he was still sweaty and half naked.

‘I don’t know what– what’s up here.’ Keeping her mouth shut and staring at him like an eejit would have been better than what came out. Instead of Maths she should have studied English. Or taken a course in how to behave around gorgeous men she couldn’t have.

He cocked an eyebrow. ‘What’s what?’

‘You know, which room’s taken? Elle said you have the master suite.’

Great, now her palms were as sticky as her face. So much for everything the girls had taught her about flirting. She was sweating buckets and getting tongue tied over a man who looked at her like he thought she was about to clear out with all his cash.

Zack closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘That’s Elly all over. She shoots her mouth off without checking the facts. They’re all empty. I’m in my room down stairs. Take your pick.’

‘Okay, thanks.’ Ciara turned before she said something that would paint her cheeks scarlet, caught her toe beneath the cement filled case and took a not-so-graceful nosedive into the floor, cursing like a trucker all the way.

Luckily she caught herself before she cracked her skull but she’d never live the shame of this one down. With her bikini covered bum – hopefully cellulite free – in the air and Zack now on his knees at her side, she’d be quite happy to have knocked herself a good one so she didn’t have to face him.

‘Shit, are you okay?’ he asked, pulling her off the floor so she was kneeling behind the case, not sprawled across it. At her nod, he smiled. ‘I didn’t understand half of what you said but I’m guessing it was pretty creative.’

Her face burned, adding more humiliation to this scenario. ‘I’m glad you didn’t, it wasn’t very polite. Sorry.’

Zack didn’t seem appalled, thank god. He pulled her to her feet.

‘So where in Ireland did you grow up?’ he asked.

A quick glance at the bikini top to make sure the triangles were still in place – check – and she felt a tiny bit better. ‘Blessington. Not too far from Dublin.’

‘I’ve never been, but keep meaning to. The accent is adorable.’

There goes the flame again, heating her face all the way to her scalp. ‘It’s a great city.’

Time to move away from him before she tripped up and fell through one of the windows or something worse. Pulling up the case, she turned to go but Zack lifted the whole thing off the floor like it didn’t weigh more than she did.

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Compared to Elle and her mum, you definitely travel light.’

‘Thanks,’ Ciara said, not sure what else to stay.

Following him down the corridor she tried her best to keep her eyes level with his shoulders. But they were wide and strong looking, and this really wasn’t going to help keep her mind off him like she’d promised she would.

At the end of the corridor next to yet another set of stairs, he opened the door and led her in. This suite didn’t look the same as the others. It had too much space, a walk in wardrobe she’d never be able to fill with all the clothes she’d owned from birth to now and what looked like a massive ensuite.

This had to be the master bedroom, and since Zack had lain her suitcase on a bed big enough to sleep ten people, she guessed he was giving it to her.

‘I can’t take this,’ she protested.

‘Why not? Elle thinks I’m here anyway.’ He headed for the door but she blocked the way.

‘I’d rather not fight with Elle. I’ll just take another.’

He grinned and his eyes glowed, honey-like and melting. ‘Relax, Ireland. My cousin’s bark is worse than her bite.’

‘Ciara, not Ireland and I’m not coming into my friend’s house and taking the best room from her.’ If he wanted to fight with Elle he could go right ahead but she wasn’t being piggy in the middle.

She grabbed the case, pulled it off the bed and narrowly avoided crushing her toe.

‘Give me that,’ he said, not as friendly as he’d seemed before. ‘Go pick a room before my poor arms break.’

She reckoned it would take a lot more than her luggage to bend those biceps but didn’t point that out. She found a room quickly and let him place the case on a more reasonably sized bed.

Before he left, he said, ‘Enjoy LA, Ireland. And don’t let Elle bully you.’

Her eyes narrowed at the empty doorway for a second but she couldn’t stay annoyed for long. She kind of liked that he’d given her a nickname.

And she decided to take the first part of his advice. These were her last eight weeks without worries so she was going to make the most of it if it killed her.