Page 22 of Pucking Revenge

“Where are the other tables?” I whisper as Brooks guides me toward the bar where his brothers are congregating.His palm is warm on my back, giving me a semblance of peace despite how out of sorts I suddenly feel.

My trepidation dissipates when I get a look at the rest of the Langfield men. God, every one of them is gorgeous in his own right. The suits they’ve chosen showcase just how beautiful they are.

Like Brooks, Beckett is rocking the hell out of a black suit. He has an arm wrapped around Liv’s waist. She’s tucked into his side, but her attention is fixed on Finn, Winnie, and Adeline, who are coloring at a small table in the corner.

Gavin’s suit is navy, and the shirt beneath it is light peach. As we get closer, his laughter echoes across the small restaurant.

Beside him, Aiden is grinning, obviously the source of Gavin’s entertainment. His horrible girlfriend, Jill, is beside him in a far too revealing green dress that matches his tie. His suit is navy as well but has a slight pinstripe design.

Aiden’s personality is loud. No matter where he is or what he’s doing, it explodes from all directions, his mouth, his smile, and his clothes. The epitome of a little brother, he’s screaming for attention at all times, yet this outfit is muted, reserved.

“I don’t think I’ll make it through this night without wine,” Liv mutters as we approach.

I give her a sympathetic squeeze, but I’m shooed away by her overprotective husband.

Beckett pulls her back into his side in a gentle move so at odds with his domineering personality. “Don’t hug her too tight.”

Liv rolls her eyes and pats his chest. “Beckett, your babies are safe and sound inside my body. Neither your penis nor Sara’s arms are going to penetrate them.”

Brooks snorts beside me and Gavin spits out his drink. “Holy fuck, Liv.”

From the corner, Finn shouts, “That’ll be a thousand bucks, Uncle Gav!”

With a scowl, Beckett digs his phone out of his pocket. He mutters under his breath as he taps on the screen, then he holds it out to Gavin. On the screen, he’s pulled up a QR code. “Use duck or pay the price.”

Without so much as a flinch, Gavin pulls out his own phone and scans the code. “I’d prefer to pay the fine to keep my manhood, thank you very much.”

With my lips pressed together, I scrutinize one brother, then the other. What the hell is happening here?

Only when Brooks squeezes my hip do I realize he still has his arm around me. He angles in until his lips brush against my ear. “What can I get you to drink?”

A shiver racks through me, so I pull my shawl tighter around myself, cursing the cool October air. “Um, something fruity, please.”

I’m not much of a drinker. I’ll have a glass or two of wine, or maybe prosecco at brunch with Lennox, because boozy brunches are a Sunday ritual when she’s in town. Otherwise, I stick to cocktails with little umbrellas.

Like I said before: basic.

Brooks smiles down at me, probably internally chuckling at my general basic bitchness, then asks the bartender to make me something sweet that will match my dress.

Beaming at him like he’s the damn sun, I finally let myself relax. Sure, he and his brothers each have enough money to buy a small country, but they’re some of the most down-to-earth people I know, and I’ve rarely met anyone more genuine. I should know this by now, yet I still let myself get worked up over their status. With a deep breath in, then back out, I let the rest of that apprehension go and settle into the moment.

The guest of honor arrives, and suddenly, it’s a frenzy of birthday hugs and kisses all around.

Brooks’s mom greets me with a big smile. “Sara, you look stunning. I’m so glad you came.”

Monroe Langfield exudes wealth and privilege. She’s in her late sixties, though one would never know it. Barely a wrinkle dares mar her face, and her posture and figure rival that of women half her age. Obviously her genes are superior. Just look at the children she and Preston produced. Even so, this kind of perfection isn’t natural.

No judgment here, though. She’s always been lovely to me, and more than anything, I respect a person’s kindness and the way they treat the people around them.

Behind her, the youngest Langfield, Sienna, appears. She’s a fashion designer and recently starred in her own reality show. For months, a crew followed her around in Paris, documenting the release of her latest line. The paparazzi have been relentless, so it’s no surprise that she arrived with a big man in a traditional black suit at her side. His expression hard as granite, he sweeps the room from one side to the other, then back again, as if he’s making sure we’re all safe.

“Wow. Your sister is a big deal,” I mutter to Brooks as he hands me a cranberry-colored drink with a sugar rim. I covertly lick at the sweetness and savor the taste while everyone’s attention is fixed on Sienna. Celebrity status or not, the baby of the family is a treasure that none of the guys can ever get enough of.

Brooks’s deep rumble sends the loose tendrils framing my face fluttering. “That’s not a bodyguard. That’s Garreth Hanson.” He steps up beside me and holds out his hand to the oversized blond man. “Didn’t know you’d be here. You in Boston for a bit?”

Garreth takes Brooks’s hand, his scowl softening a fraction and his shoulders easing.

Beside him, Sienna’s smile falls. “Don’t be too charming to him, Brooks. We don’t want him to think we want him here.”

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