Page 93 of Dublin Devil

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Piper

Sean’s family is waiting in the sunken living room after we grab a quick bite of breakfast and eat it standing at the island in the kitchen. When we arrive, all eyes turn toward us.

Tag folds his newspaper and sets it on the antique coffee table. “Good morning, you two. How was your camping adventure?”

Sean brushes the back of his finger over the blush on my cheek and chuckles. “I wouldn’t try fishing anytime soon. Piper’s cries of pleasure likely scared them all away.”

I blink and my mouth falls open. “I can’t believe you said that.”

He laughs. “You might as well get used to my brothers razzing us because teasing is our love language.”

Thankfully, Finn takes pity on me and changes the subject. “I have the laptop set up for the reading of the will. If you sit at the desk behind the sofa, you’ll be able to see them, they will see you, and no one will see us, sitting here and listening.”

That works for me.

“You’re still willing to let us listen in?” Tag asks.

“I am. It’s just…my family isn’t like yours.” What will they think if my mother or one of my brothers sinks their filthy fangs into me? “They might say things about me or about you. I need to apologize beforehand.”

Sean lays a heavy arm across my shoulders and pulls me to his side. “You don’t have to apologize for them, P. And trust me, they won’t say anything we haven’t heard before. Consider us five little ducks, letting everything roll off our backs.”

I look at his brothers and take in the scars and the tattoos and the ‘fuck with me and die’ vibe they give off. That metaphor cracks me up. “You five are the furthest thing from five little ducks I’ve ever seen.”

He grins. “But I made you laugh.”

“Aye, you did.”

My phone rings and I check the caller ID. “It’s my mother.”

Cue a round of frowns and pursed brows.

“Did you give her your number?” Tag asks.

“No, and Rory wouldn’t have either. I’m not sure how she got it.”

“But she did,” Sean says.

“Should I answer it?”

The guys all shrug. Which is no help at all.

Sean gives me a gentle squeeze. “That’s up to you, kitten. We aren’t here to tell you what to do.”

That in itself seems so bizarre to me. In my household, everyone always told me what to do.

I stare at my phone a moment longer and it stops ringing. “Problem solved. She hung up.”

Sean kisses my temple. “Why do you think she called?”

“Likely to fill my head with sob stories about me needing to come home and how sorry she is that Da’s plans drove me away.”

“It could have something to do with the will,” Finn suggests. “It’s almost time for the reading. She might want to talk to you beforehand, to get you in line or something.”

I don’t even care. “Then I’ll sign into the video call, and she can talk to me in front of the lawyers if she wants to. Odds are she won’t, though. She won’t want to air our dirty laundry in public.”

I leave the Quinns sitting in the living room and round the couch that sits opposite a dark chestnut desk. Stepping between the desk and the window wall, I sit in the soft leather executive chair.

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