just his fork, and as he did, I felt something settle inside me at the connection.
I loved when he did this. When he joined us with a simple touch, and it seemed all the more poignant now since he’d told me he loved me.
I smiled at him, knowing my heart was in my eyes as we stared at one another. The table could have disappeared, the bickering people around it too. For a moment, it was just him and me, and that was how I wanted it to be forever.
Finn and I against the world.
“You’ll never guess who I saw last week, Dec.”
Declan was the quietest of them all, and he rarely spoke to me. Not because he was rude, I thought, but because he didn’t say much to anyone.
“Who?”
“Guess,” Brennan joked.
He grunted. “Not interested enough to guess.”
That had Brennan rolling his eyes. “Aela O’Neill.”
For the first time, I saw Declan react to something. His fork clattered as he dropped it on his plate.
“Aela O’Neill? I thought she fucked off to Ireland?”
Lena tutted. “Language, Declan.”
He cut his mother a look. “Sorry.” Like a laser, he pinpointed his brother with his stare. “Conor?”
“She did, but she’s back. She’s an artist now. Glass, I think.”
“How do you know?” The intent in his voice had everyone around the table looking at him, but he didn’t seem to notice, his focus utterly zoomed in on Conor.
“I saw her getting coffee and walking into a gallery. On the side, there was her name. Splashed all over it with these weird statues.” He jiggled his shoulders. “She hasn’t changed all that much. Still like a pixie.”
A grunt escaped Declan. “Which gallery?”
Conor frowned at him. “I don’t know. I didn’t write it down.”
“Where was the coffee shop then, idiot?” Declan snapped.
“Calm down, Declan,” Lena murmured, her brows high as she took in her son’s reaction. “Conor, where was the coffee shop?”
“It’s just by Eighth Avenue.”
The minute he’d finished speaking, the sound of his chair scraping against the tiles shrieked throughout the room.
Aidan scowled at him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I—” For a second, he was wordless. Then he shook his head, cut his mother a glance and said, “I have to go. Sorry, Ma.”
Because Lena was as bewildered as the rest of us, she tilted her head to the side as a prompt. He leaned over to kiss her cheek.
“Thanks, Ma. Great meal as usual.”
And like that, he was gone. No longer than two minutes later, his engine boomed in the yard and with a screech, he took off.
“Idiot will kill himself if he drives like that all the way to Eighth Avenue,” Aidan groused. “Who the hell is Aela O’Neill?”
The skin around Finn’s eyes pinched. “Deidre’s best friend.”
Lena’s hand tightened around the glass. “Oh.”
“Deirdre was Declan’s childhood sweetheart,” Finn explained softly.
“Why was he so eager to see her friend?” Eoghan queried. “It’s not like him to be excited about anything anymore.”
That was why he was so quiet?
He was still grieving?
My opinion of the dour brother instantly changed, and I felt guilty for just thinking he was a miserable bastard when his misery was forged from grief. If anyone could understand that, it was me.
Until Finn, I’d been at a complete and utter loss after my mom’s death. But with Finn, it was like he was my rudder. The pain was still there, her loss would never leave me, but at least he was at my side, and I wasn’t alone anymore.
Any amusement or humor died the second Declan left. We were all curious about what he was doing, all wondering why he’d run off the way he had. It was a relief when Lena hadn’t made dessert, and Finn excused us early, saying I still needed to rest.
Liar.
As we drove off their estate, I asked, “There a reason you wanted to get out of there so quickly?”
He shrugged. “I’m ready to go home.”
“Aidan was mad at you.”
“Aidan’s mad period.”
My lips curved at that. “But you love him anyway.”
“I do,” he said on a sigh, one that sounded like it was dragged from the depths of his soul.
“Hey, that’s okay. Love works in funny ways. Who’d think I’d love the man who was bribing me into his bed?”
His nose crinkled at the bridge. “Big difference.”
“Is there?” I laughed. “If you’d been crap in bed, I’m not sure I’d have fallen head over heels for you.”
“You’d have fallen for something, angel,” he said teasingly. “It’s how I roll.”