by Cecy Robson
“Killian,” she says, keeping her voice soft. “Be nice.”
His stare, which up until know could have sent a pack of pit bulls running, softens. He steps out of our way, allowing us through.
Of course, my brothers aren’t going to let me go that easy. They file out behind us. We don’t make it halfway up the stairs before Angus starts up again.
“This isn’t over,” he yells.
I point at him. “Just for that I’m going to straddle him when we get back to my room.”
More hollers, more cursing, more threats. I shut my bedroom door behind me, doing little to muffle their loud and irate grumbling.
My back smacks against the door as I fall against it, covering my face. “God, I’m so sorry.”
I drop my hands away to find him pinching the bridge of his nose. I want to kiss him and make it up to him, but mostly, I’m waiting for him to bolt. Given all the crazy waiting downstairs to have brunch, I would.
He lowers his hand when I reach him. “I was getting ready when I realized I still had shampoo in my hair.” Like an ass, I motion to the bathroom, not that he’s looking. “If I’d known they were coming, I never would have left you alone.” My voice fades when I realize he’s smiling. “You’re smiling,” I point out.
He chuckles. “I just met your entire family.”
“Not really. There’re still a few hundred more,” I admit.
“It’s not what I expected,” he says.
I raise my head, feeling defensive. “They’re good people,” I tell him. “They’re just not used to me having anyone here, let alone a naked someone here.”
“That’s not what I mean,” he tells me gently. “It’s clear that they love you and are only watching out for your best interests. I just expected to meet them over time.”
“Over time?” I ask, barely believing it. “You’re planning to stick around? After all that?”
“I told you. I like you.”
There he goes again, being sweet. This guy can’t be real. But when he gathers me to him and kisses me, I remind myself that he totally is.
I stroke his five o’clock shadow, it’s light but dark enough to give him an edge. If the angry mob downstairs weren’t waiting to chow down on eggs and potatoes, I might hold off on replenishing my calories and burn a few more.
“We’ll see how you feel after brunch.”
“Brunch?” he asks.
“We have brunch as a family at least once a month. It was supposed to be next week, but I guess they moved it up when they were kicked out of the hotel—not that the news of my family getting kicked out of anywhere should shock you.”
I laugh when he doesn’t move. “Come on,” I say. “You made it this far. Let’s get dressed and see if we can survive the rest.”
“All right,” he agrees.
“Yeah?”
“Why not? Like you said, I made it this far,” he adds with a wink.
The girls have my back, just like I have theirs. By the time Evan and I are dressed and make it downstairs, they’ve set up the dining room and are laying out the food. Oh, and look at this, with the exception of Evan, all the men have been herded to one side. Like I said, my girls have my back.
None of my brothers are smiling except for Finnie. But there’s bacon and Sol sitting in front of him so that’s all he needs. “Pass the potatoes, will ya, babe?” he tells her.
She lifts the dish filled with hash browns.
“The hell, Finnie,” Angus snaps. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”
Finn thinks about it. “Oh, yeah. The ketchup, too.” He looks at Molly. “You brought ketchup, right Mol? We’re all out.”
“It’s to your right, Finnie,” Molly says. She scowls when Angus glares. “You know, I’m sick of all youz being pissy. Wren here’s done nothing wrong.”
“Thanks, Molly,” I say, knowing she’s not going to stop there.
“So she had some stud bend her over,” she continues.
“Dear God,” Evan says, pausing with the fork halfway to his mouth when more swears erupt around the table.
I reach for my napkin, trying not to crack up when Molly goes full speed ahead like only she and her Edith Bunker voice can. “She’s got needs. We all do,” she glances around the table. “Am I right, ladies?”
“Please leave us out of this,” Sofia says, her face as red as the ketchup she hands Finn.
Her reaction causes Killian to smirk her way. Not that she sees it, seeing how her face is now buried in her hands.
“All’s I’m saying is every now and then we could use a little hair pullin’ and some spanking.” She spoons an extra helping of eggs onto her plate. “I mean do you have any idea how long it’s been since Angus bent me over?”
“No. And please don’t tell us,” Seamus says, looking a little green.
“I can see that,” Finn says, digging into his food. “What?” he asks, meeting my brothers’ reprimanding frowns. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t need a visual of Angus’s big ass driving it home—”
“Oh!” We all groan except for Angus who’s smiling for the first damn time since he got here.
“I’m just saying women need their share of us,” Finn adds. He points at Sol with his fork. “Take Sol for instance.”
Sol’s jaw pops open, a strand of highlighted blond hair falling in front of her face with how fast she looks up. “What do you mean take Sol?”
“I’m just saying if you don’t get some—”
“If I don’t get some?” she shrieks. “Seriously, Finn?”
“Baby, it’s okay,” Finn offers apologetically. “We all know how bad you want me.”
“Finn, last night on the drive home you’re the one who—” She shuts her mouth abruptly when she realizes we’re all looking at her, except for Sofia, who’s all but shrinking beneath the table.
Finn grins. “You’re welcome,” he adds with a wink.
“Been there,” Curran says, nodding like he understands. “What?” he asks, looking up at Tess from where he’s feeding Fiona. “Isn’t that how I knocked you up last time?”
Tess smiles, but I wouldn’t call it friendly. Hell, I wouldn’t even call it human. “Can we all just eat? Please?” she asks.
“Only if you make it up to me later,” Curran replies, not missing a beat.
Tess pretends to narrow her stare, but can’t quite suppress her smile. “Is it a wonder I’m expecting an Irish twin?” she mumbles.
“Nope.” “Nah.” “No,” my brothers and I reply at once.
“So, Evan,” Killian says, his deep voice more challenging than cordial. “What do you do?”
Evan’s stare travels around the table before answering, well aware all eyes are on him. “I’m CEO of iCronos.”
And cue the deafening silence in three, two, one . . .
“Is that a real job?” Finn asks. At Sol’s nod, Finn returns to his food, appearing satisfied. “Cool.”
“It’s a robotics and technology company,” Evan begins.
“We know what it is,” Killian says, glancing at Sofia. “We use the security system at our gym and the malware protection on our software.”
“And we use the phone systems and computer technology at the District Attorney’s office,” Tess adds. Her attention latches onto Curran’s. They don’t seem worried, exactly, but it’s like Evan just proved how different he is with one blow.
Thing is, I see it, too, and it’s not just because of where he works.
I stand when my family finishes off the first casserole dish. Evan stands, too. I think it’s safe to leave him and give him a wink. “I’ll be right back,” I tell him.
“Bring back some more orange juice, will ya, Wren?” Angus tells me.
He’s going to town on the waffles, assuring me he’s done provoking my brothers and targeting Evan, at least for the moment. “Sure, Angus.”
I don’t expect Sol to follow me into the kitchen. Scratch that, yes, I do. “Wren,” she says, beaming. “
He’s cute.”
I rinse out the aluminum dish at the sink, trying not to grin and doing a shitty job. “I know.”
“And employed—with like, a real job,” she says.
“Oh, come on, Sol,” I say. “The losers I’ve dated have at least had jobs.”
I open the door leading out to the porch and dump the tray into the recycling bin. I shut the door slowly when I catch the way she’s looking at me. “Evan’s not a loser,” she points out, like I don’t already know.
“No, he’s not,” I agree, quietly. I place my palms on the granite counter and bow my head. “Did you hear us last night?”
Her eyes widen as she hurries forward to whisper. “No, did you hear us?”
I grimace. “No, and don’t go there. That’s my little brother you’re talking about.”
She giggles. “I get it. And believe me, I’m not going to shake the visual of Angus and Molly any time soon.”
“Neither will I,” I say, making a face.
I wash my hands and fill another pitcher of orange juice. Evan and I had sex. Lots of it. Lots of amazing sex. He’s decent with a great job and an even better personality. And he already met my brothers. Jesus God, how the fuck did all this happen? I’ve only known him a handful of days.
Sol comes around the island and leans her back against the counter. “What’s wrong? He’s nice.”
“I just met him, Sol. We’ve been out twice and already spent the night doing it like the zombie apocalypse came and went and it’s up to us to repopulate the human race or whatever the fuck. Things are moving way faster than I’m used to.”
She gives me a one shoulder shrug. “So slow them down.”
“Slow them down? Aren’t you listening? We had enough sex to make up for the year I went without it, and right now he’s in my dining room sitting down and eating a meal with my family. I think it’s a little too late to shift into park.”
“I’m not saying come to a full stop,” she says slowly. “Not that either of you could swing it.” She laughs when I frown. “In case you didn’t notice, he can’t keep his eyes off you. He likes you, Wren.”
“I like him, too,” I admit, wishing it didn’t suck to say it. “But he’s a corporate giant and I’m me.”
“And I’m studying for my doctorate in psychology and Finn’s a fighter.” She holds out her hands. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love him.”
“I didn’t say anything about love,” I remind her.
I tug the long sweater I’m wearing over my skinny jeans, ready to head back to Evan. But Sol’s question keeps me in place.
“So it’s been a year, huh?”
Shit. She had to go there.
“Since Bryant then?” When I quiet, she leans in, lowering her voice. “Wren, what did he do to you?”
“Nothing worth mentioning,” I say. She doesn’t believe me, not with the way her features shadow with disappointment. But as assertive and Philly as Sol can be, she’s also kind and respectful. She knows I’m not ready to say more.
“Okay,” she tells me cautiously.
I sigh when she continues to eye me. “Come on,” I say. “I have to get back to Evan before he runs out of here screaming.”
She smiles softly. “I hate to break it to you, Wren, but I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”
I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. Not with how screwed up this last year has been. But I can’t admit as much to Sol. She’s a professional counselor, but she’s my friend and brother’s girlfriend first. She wouldn’t hesitate to run to Finn or my family if she thought I was in trouble. And Bryant is definitely trouble.
“Maybe,” I say, trying to play off what I’m feeling. “But only because he has manners, unlike the rest of us.”
I walk back into the dining room with Sol trailing me. Evan stands when he sees me, and I’m sure he’s ready to tell me he has to go. But then he smiles, and sits when I sit, staying for the remainder of the meal and quietly observing the rest of us lunatics mouthing off.
“Fuck you, Angus.”
“For shit’s sake, it was the best play of the night!”
“Get your head out of your hairy ass.”
“Did you not see the fight? He came out swinging.”
“God damn it. It’s the Lord’s Day, watch your mouths.”
Believe it or not, this is typical mealtime conversation. At least at my house, with my family. I have to say, the “hairy ass” comment gives Evan pause. But even with that little tidbit, it’s only when brunch and clean up are done that he tells me he needs to leave.
Even then, it’s like he doesn’t want to.
I walk him to his SUV, my fists balling into my heavy coat, wishing he didn’t have to go. God, what’s wrong with me? I just met the guy.
“You seem quiet,” he tells me.
“Are you saying I’m incapable of shutting my mouth?”
“Yes,” he says, making us both laugh.
We stop in front of his driver’s side door. “When can I see you, again?” he asks, gathering me into a cozy embrace.
“You still want to see me? After all that?” I turn my head in the direction of the house. The T.V. is blasting and I can still hear my family yapping away, trying to out-yell each other.
“I do,” he says.
He bends forward, kissing me sweetly. Well, it starts off sweet. But when it switches to something hotter and tastier, and my womanly parts tighten and tingle, I’m reminded why I’m so freaking tired and not exactly walking straight.
“You’re a great kisser,” I murmur when he pulls away.
“Mmm,” he responds, giving my jawline equal attention.
“With damn fine lips,” I add.
My breath catches when he reaches my ear. I did the same thing last night when he climbed on top of me, thrusting hard as he showered me with sultry kisses.
“I can’t have sex with you with my family inside,” I add when those damn fine lips trail down my throat.
“I think your brothers made that perfectly clear,” he mutters, nipping my chin.
He dips his mouth to the sweep of my neck, making me shudder. But when he straightens and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, I can’t help my smile.
I adjust my hold around his neck. “Do you want to stop by tomorrow night? I can’t cook, but we can order in.”
His features respond apologetically. “I can’t. I have a very busy week ahead, I’m afraid.”
“Oh,” I say, thinking I know where this is headed.
“But I’d like to see you if I can.” His hands glide to my lower back. “I realize it’s not ideal, but I have some free time around lunch. I can’t leave the office, but we can order in, as you suggested.”
He’s trying, but I’m starting to doubt whether any of this can work. “I don’t know if I can. I’m working all week and only have a small break for lunch.” I shake my head. “I can’t make it to your office and back in time, let alone eat.”
“No?” I shake my head. “When you came by with my SUV, I assumed your schedule was more flexible,” he tells me.
“It’s not,” I admit. “I switched shifts with another rep to get you your ride.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Because I wanted to see you.”
Instead of smiling, he seems disappointed, his attention darting briefly toward the house. “Wren, I realize things have moved fast, and that we’re both busy. But if it’s possible, I’d like to give us a chance.” The air is cold enough to make our breaths visible, yet his hand is warm when it finds my cheek. “And I don’t want to go too long without seeing your smile.”
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
He meets me with a brief and steamy kiss. As he releases me and slips inside his Explorer, I don’t want to think about how cold I feel without him, but it’s hard not to. The man has a set of lips capable of melting an icy glacier stuffed with penguins, and his heart . . . that’s somet
hing altogether different.
I wait on the walkway as he pulls onto the street, halting in place when he rolls past Sauron.
The little bastard is on his bike with a stiff middle finger up in the air. “Sauron, what the hell are you doing?”
“Watching out for my woman,” he tells me, like that excuses his behavior.
“Get back in the house before I tell Gloria and she beats your ass!” I yell.
Even with the doors shut and the windows rolled up, I can hear Evan laughing. The guy is too perfect to be real. But as my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I see the latest text, I’m reminded that my life is far from perfect.
CHAPTER 10
Wren
Colin is losing his mind, swearing by the entrance to dealership floor. “Sixteen cameras, and they caught nothing that can help!”
He’s not asking, he’s reiterating what the rep from his dumbass security company is telling him. “This is horseshit!”
The other sales reps who came in drift around the lot in pairs, keeping their distance from our boss and scared to get too close. I’m the only one he allowed anywhere near him, but even I am waiting several feet away, my boots leaving marks along the fresh inch of snow.
Char marks coat the shattered Ford Nation sign and the awful stench of burning oil and rubber lingers in the crisp air. The fire department supposedly extinguished the last of the flames a few hours ago. But the smell is there, reminding us how bad the damage is, as if the skeletal frame of that F-150 being hauled away and busted building weren’t enough.
I sigh, taking in the battered building and shards of broken glass near Colin’s feet. I’m worried he’ll finally have the big one and hoped Marianne, his wife, would be able to calm him down. She was always the level-headed one between them, but not now. Not that I blame her.
“I’m really sorry about all this, Mair,” I say.
“Sorry?” she asks. “The only ones who are going to be sorry are those little fuckers when I get my hands on them.” She scowls when the security rep looks her way. “What the hell are you looking at?”
“Ma’am, I know you’re upset—”