Page 25 of Brutal Power

“Yeah, I think the stress is getting to him,” Declan adds then punches Nolan in the knee. “Also that was a dumb fucking joke.”

“Dude, fuck you, you were doing it too.” Nolan glares and rubs his leg. “He just ripped my head off for no reason.”

“I think that was my fault,” I say, and my voice is very tiny. I get to my feet, clearing my throat. “I didn’t know your brother was so in love with me.” I smile and the guys grin at my joke, but I’m not sure they’re in the mood for laughter.

“Come on, let’s refill you,” Molly says, taking my arm, and we head into the kitchen together. I expect to find Brody, but he’snowhere to be seen, and we end up pitching in with Orla and Caitlin, setting the table and making garlic bread.

I understand why Brody didn’t like me talking about sex stuff with his brothers around. Even though I was making silly, obvious innuendos, it still wasn’t appropriate—I was just doing it to piss him off. I never for a minute thought he’d give a damn, not like that anyway.

His reaction haunts me all through dinner. I’m sitting next to him at the table but it’s like his whole jealous outburst never happened, and the guys are back to joking around with each other and eating enough for a family of fifty large elephants. But I can feel Brody’s fingers on my hip still, I can feel how tightly they pressed into my skin, and I keep thinking about the way he stared at me with anger and pure, incredible lust.

I get to know his family throughout the meal. Orla, their mother, she’s an absolute gem and reminds me of a tougher version of my own mom. The guys are merciless in their jokes and Orla takes it like an absolute champ and isn’t afraid to rain the insults right back on them, which gets at least a couple really good laughs from everyone at the table. Caitlin’s a little shy, but super nice, and while I don’t get much face time with her, I promise myself that I’ll do better next time.

“Men clean,” Seamus says once the meal is over. I try to rise and help but Brody gently pushes me back into my seat.

“Men clean,” he repeats and pours me another glass of wine. His eyes remain on mine for a little bit too long and I’m thinking of what he said back in the living room about satisfying me.

And I start to wonder if maybe the guys had a point.

After dinner, Brody and I go for a walk around the block. It’s cool and comfortable out, and I linger close next to him, but we’re not touching. He doesn’t try to take my hand, and I’m not about to throw myself at him, not when I keep thinking about that stupid conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about what happened earlier,” Brody says, which is a really bad way of not talking about it.

“Then don’t talk.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at my brother like that. It was out of line.” His jaw flexes. “I hadn’t thought about—” He clears his throat. “Your needs.”

“You haven’t thought about my needs?” My eyebrows raise. “Come on, that can’t be true. I bet all you’ve been doing since we got married is think about myneeds.”

He lets out a long breath. “You don’t make anything easy on me, do you?”

“Nope, not at all.” I get closer to him, grinning up into his clearly uncomfortable face. “Admit it. You like thinking about my needs. You like to picture me alone in my bedroom taking care of myself.”

He stares back and I can see how hard he’s struggling to maintain control. I think of his fingers clutching my hip, the ghost of his skin against mine, and a part of me wants him to let go. I want that caveman Brody back, the one who threatens to hurt anyone that gets near his woman. It’s not very progressive of me, but to hell with that. Ilikedit, and that’s what matters.

“Seamus had a point, okay? You do have rights. I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re a person like anyone else?—”

I fight back a laugh. “Are you about to give me permission to cheat on you?”

His expression darkens. “I don’t think I could handle that.”

“So you’re possessive, but you’re also not lining up to do the job yourself. Puts me in a bad spot, right?”

“I know.” He looks away. “It’s fucked.”

I want to tell him to stop being so stubborn. I want to tell him that maybe hecando something about it. I want to tell him that I’m not interested in cheating, or having an open marriage, or anything like that, and maybe he and I can just fuck and keep each other happy, it doesn’t have to be a big deal, but I can’t make myself say the words. Once I do that, once I go down that road, there’s no turning back. I’ll be his, and I don’t want to be his. Not this way.

“It’s fine, we’ll figure it out,” I say, giving him an out.

He stops walking and I have to turn to face him. “I want you to come over tonight.”

My eyebrows shoot up. Seriously, if they weren’t attached to my face, they’d be on the moon. “That’s one hell of an invitation, given the context.”

He grimaces. “No, not for sex. I meant, to see my place. I got it decorated.”

I laugh but it dies on my tongue. “You’re not kidding.”

“I’m not. And I need to tell you about what happened with Omar still.”

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