He leaned back and watched her out of the corner of his eye. Was she broken up about Brendan’s death? She seemed smart enough to be worried about marrying a man whom she didn’t know, but he might have mistaken nerves for grief. It was hard to say. Teague accepted the beer Aiden handed him and took a long drink. A cigarette and a kiss weren’t enough to get a good read on a person. A part of him would like to chalk the whole thing up to her being overcome with desire, but he knew better. She hadn’t wanted to answer the question about her bruises, so she’d made a move on him.
Was the abuser a boyfriend? He doubted she’d chosen this path any more than he had, so it was entirely possible. Teague took another sip of his beer, waiting for the irrational jealousy to ease. Though he doubted his father had been faithful at any point in his marriage, creating an extramarital arrangement hadn’t been something he’d really considered before he met her. Now? There was no fucking away.
Christ, he was a mess.
He jumped when the room broke into applause, and then Aiden elbowed him, jerking his chin to say Teague should be on his feet. Shit. He pushed out of his chair at the same time as Callista. Sheridan watched them both, but it was Seamus who roared, “Let’s see a kiss from the happy couple.”
Happy couple, his ass. His father was punishing him for dazing off during the speeches and, under the attention of far too many people, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do except obey. He passed Seamus, earning a painful shoulder clasp, and stopped in front of Callista. She looked a little pale, and he started to say…Fuck, he didn’t know. Something comforting.
But then she turned to the audience with a smile that somehow managed to convey happiness and nerves, like a princess playing to her subjects. She went onto her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. The near-innocent contact still sent a bolt of sheer lust through him, and it was everything he could do not to drag her back against his body when she leaned away.
Teague turned to go back to his seat, but his parents had moved down while he was distracted, leaving the seat open directly next to Callista. It figured. He sank into the chair and leaned closer to her. “You will tell me his name.”
Her smile didn’t so much as twitch. “Not likely.”
Why protect the man? Because the perpetrator was a man. The handprint was nearly as large as Teague’s would have been. “Do you care about him that much?”
She shot him a look. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business one way or another.”
“It became my business the second you agreed to marry me.” Where the fuck had that come from? He had no business feeling possessive of this woman, future wife or not.
“You were the second choice.”
The words stung far more than they should have. Of course he’d known as much, but hearing her say it with such derision? The woman had claws, and apparently she wasn’t afraid to use them. He leaned closer. “And did you moan so prettily when that piece of shit Halloran had his tongue down your throat?”
She started tapping the table with her fingers. “Of course.”
Liar. It was in every tense muscle in her body, and the way she wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. He covered her hand with his own, his entire body perking up at the feel of her skin against his. “I don’t think so.”
“Could you be any more arrogant?”
“Probably.” God help him, but he was actually enjoying himself. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She huffed out a breath. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. You O’Malleys are all the same.”
“Careful there, Callista.” He liked the way she twitched when he said her name. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I know enough.”
He couldn’t bring himself to argue with her, mostly because she was right. His family was full of thugs, liars, and cheats—with a scattering of murderers thrown in for spice. But then, hers was, too. “Those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”
She went pale, her lips parting as if she couldn’t quite catch her breath. What the hell? He hadn’t said anything particularly horrible. He squeezed her hand. “What’s wrong?”