Page 11 of Primal

“I’m serious, Finnigan. She’s a good Catholic girl,” Quinn advises.

“For fuck’s sake! I date more than strippers.” I exclaim.

“Jesus Christ,” Declan announces as he joins us. “Are we back on the O’Flaherty girlagain?”

“I get it,” Quinn acknowledges my interest. “She is absolutely fucking gorgeous.”

Cocking a brow, I ask, “How didn’t I know you had an interest in women?”

“I don?—”

“Shhhh.” I reach across the counter and press my finger to her lips to silence her. “Don’t ruin this future wet dream for me.”

Declan snakes his arm around my throat, pulling me away from Quinn and the barstool as he tightens the headlock. “While I’m more than certain you do it, I do not need to hear about you wanking off to my wife.”

Pulling at Declan’s arm, we scuffle across the kitchen floor. His forearm pulls more against my windpipe, and I struggle to breathe. I sweep my leg around his and topple us both to the floor with a thud. Declan quickly takes the upper hand, rolling onto his back and ensnaring me with both of his legs, rendering me practically unable to move. I slap my hand against his forearm, tapping out, but he doesn’t lament.

“Let him go.” Quinn sighs, rolling her eyes. “At some point, the lot of you are going to need to learn you aren’t teenagers anymore, right?”

Releasing his grip, Declan shoves me from on top of him. I lay with the cool tiles against my back and struggle to catch my breath as Declan climbs from the floor beside me. Like the big brother he is, he stands over me and gently nudges me with his foot. “Let’s go. We have somewhere to be.”

Reluctantly, I roll onto my stomach and push myself from the floor before climbing to my feet. I fix my clothes as Declan kisses Quinn goodbye. Quinn rounds the island when Declan leaves us to grab his jacket. She lightly fists the front of my shirt, and her eyes are filled with worry when she looks up at me. “You make sure he gets home safe,” she demands.

“Always.” I place my hands over hers. Gripping the right one, I pull it from my shirt and place it on her stomach. “I promise you, that man is going to live a long life, so he can watch Fiona, these babies, and that baseball team he still intends to impregnate you with grow up.”

The worry lines on her face soften, and a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. Pressing onto her toes, she wraps her arms around my neck and places a soft kiss against my cheek as she whispers, “Thank you.”

“I couldn’t lose him. I don’t enjoy annoying my other brothers nearly as much,” I jest.

Quinn lets out a timid laugh as she lowers herself to her feet. Still lightly fisting my shirt with one hand, she imparts, “She’d be good for you, but she’s sweet and innocent, Finn. You’ll absolutely ruin her if you’re just looking for a frivolous fling. So, choose what you decide to do wisely… For her sake.”

Quinn is not naïve about my love life.More correctly, my sex life.For the past decade, my romantic encounters have been nothing more than a series of one-night-stands, an occasional situationship, and one very short-lived—dull as fuck—moment of monogamy.

“If you’re done making out with my wife, can we get going?” Declan gruffs from the doorway.

Quinn calls after me as I cross the room to join Declan, “I’m serious, Finn.”

“Understood.” I nod.

So am I…

CHAPTER NINE

FINNIGAN

“About fucking time.” Conor huffs as he climbs into my Bronco. “What took you guys so long?”

“Finn was busy trying to fuck my wife… again,” Declan answers before I have a chance.

“Actually, the old man wasn’t ready when I went to pick him up,” I correct him.

Pulling back into traffic, the bottles in the crate at Conor’s feet clatter against one another. “Fuck, Finn. Is there a reason you have”—he pauses to count—“a case with ten Molotov cocktails in the backseat?”

“Twelve seemed like too many.” I laugh. “And you never know when they’re going to come in handy.”

“Are we sureMamdidn’t drop him on his head when he was little?” Conor asks Declan.

Declan chuckles his response. “I wonder that every fucking day.”

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