O Come, All Ye Kellys (Love & Luck #7) - Isla Olsen Page 0,22

you got so upset about that,” Owen says. “It’s not like we look bad when we’re having sex.”

“How do you know what you look like?” Jai asks, his brows drawn together in curiosity. Then his face lights with excitement. “Wait—have you guys filmed yourselves?”

“I don’t think we should answer that…” I say carefully.

“Oh my god, you have, haven’t you?” Jai demands eagerly. “Was it awesome? I’ve been trying to talk Lukas into it but he’s worried someone might see it.”

“Yeah, I can see why that might be a concern,” Owen says.

“How are the kids?” I ask, changing the subject.

Jai’s entire face lights up. “Great! Tomas will be going off to France next year for school so I’m kind of smothering him as much as I can at the moment. I’m sure when he’s older he’ll look back on this period as a very traumatic time, but…” he trails off with a shrug.

I decide to let Owen and Jai talk for a little on their own while I get back to the crepes, and by the time I’ve finished cooking and have a pile of delicious sweet crepes ready, Owen is off the call.

“Mmmm.” Owen’s eyes fall closed as he groans around the piece of strawberries and chocolate-filled crepe he’s just stuffed in his mouth. “God, this is amazing.”

“I can tell,” I say with a chuckle, trying not to think about how much Owen looks as though he’s actually turned on right now. Thinking that will only turn me on.

Owen’s eyes flash open and he pins me with a teasing look. “This is why I married you, you know. The cooking.”

I arch a brow at him. “Oh, really?”

He nods, stuffing another bite of crepe in his mouth. “Yep. I really can’t think of any other reasons. I mean, I guess the money’s kind of nice. And you’re not too bad to look at. And you’re okay in bed…”

“Okay?”

He shrugs. “For an old guy you keep up pretty well.”

I let out a bark of laughter and push my empty plate aside as I lean over the counter to get right up in front of Owen. “If you’re trying to taunt me into fucking you right here in the kitchen, it’s not going to work, sweetheart. We’ve got guests coming in a couple hours and I’ve got to get to work.” I step back and start gathering the dirty dishes from the crepes. Grinning at a glum-looking Owen, I say, “That’s why you married me, right? The cooking?”

* * *

It’s a good thing Owen and I don’t get up to anything R-rated in the kitchen today, because my mother ends up showing up at our house an hour and a half earlier than expected. And she’s not alone.

Unlike her usual plus ones, this one isn’t male. Or human.

“MJ!” Owen calls, crouching down to greet our seven-month-old puppy as she races into his arms. “What are you doing here, gorgeous girl?”

“Sunny, you know the whole point of her staying with you was so she wouldn’t be underfoot today, right?” I say to my mom.

“Oh, I know,” Sunny says, reaching to where Owen has MJ cradled in his arms and giving her fluffy gray fur a tousle. “But I couldn’t bear to leave her all alone on Christmas. That’s right, my darling girl,” she says directly to MJ, who is just lapping up the attention she’s getting from all sides. “Granny loves you and she wasn’t going to leave you all alone.”

I roll my eyes. “She’s a dog, Sunny. Not human. You know that, right?”

Sunny blocks MJ’s ears, as if she needs to shield the puppy from my words. “Until you give me human grandchildren—which wouldn’t kill you, I might add—she’s all I have.”

I stare at her for a long moment, my brow creased in confusion. “What are you talking about? You have grandchildren.”

“Yes, but Jamie’s all grown. And Damon’s kids are in Detroit. You know I can’t go there—it has such negative energy.”

I shake my head, managing to keep the eye roll at bay. I know she’s not referring to Detroit itself but rather her experiences there while she was married to my father.

“Don’t worry, Blakey Bear,” Sunny says in a soothing voice as she reaches out to stroke my arm. “This little angel won’t be any trouble today, I promise.”

* * *

The way my mother keeps the dog out of trouble is by simply feeding her morsel after morsel from her own plate while we’re sitting down for lunch. In other words, the