Page 6 of Primal

Repeating himself and shaking his head, Declan insists, “Father O’Flaherty’s niece. You absolutely willnotbe having a repeat of the Missy O’Harrah incident with Father’s niece. That would get us all banned from Our Lady of Grace and you know it.”

“Grow up.” I scoff, my upper lip curling in annoyance. I cover Fiona’s ears with my hands before continuing, “I’m way too old to be finger-banging women in church. I’m not a horny teenager anymore. I’m a gentleman. I’d take her home first.”

Declan rolls his eyes and lets out a fatherly sigh. I drop my hands from Fiona’s ears as Liam joins us, laughing. “No. You’re just a horny thirty-two-year-old.”

An innocent laugh erupts beside me, and Fiona chimes, “UncailFinn doesn’t have horns.”

“And I think that’s about enough of this conversation for you.” Liam swoops Fiona off the floor and into his arms, mouthing “sorry” to Declan. Swaying her in his embrace, he carries her toward the door. “How about you help me grab a box from my car so your dad can murder Uncle Finn without any witnesses?”

“Piss the old man off even more and then take the only person keeping him from exploding at me. Thanks a lot, Li.”

Declan stares at me; his brows furrowed with a disapproving scowl as Liam takes Fiona out of earshot. In turn, I stare back at him in complete disbelief.

O’Flaherty’s niece?That gorgeous woman couldn’t possibly be related to that stuffy old fart.

“No,” Declan firmly scolds me. “Absolutely not.”

Raising my voice, I roll my eyes and snark, “Seriously? Are you going to ground me if I don’t do as you say, Dad? Will I need to go to my room?”

“I’m fucking serious, Finn!” Declan’s voice booms louder than mine.

He knows I despise being told what to do. Or, in this case, what I can’t do. “What are you going to do to stop me, old man?” I step toward him, snarling.

Squaring up to me and fully prepared to beat the shit out of me, he spits, “You will not?—”

“What the fuck are the two of you arguing about?” Tristan storms into the lounge from the hallway, interrupting our near sparring match.

“Finn’s inability to not put his cock where he shouldn’t,” Declan snaps.

Tristan’s head snaps toward me, his eyes wide and curious. “Quinn? You fucking didn?—”

“I fucking wish.” I smirk at Declan, knowing it’ll piss him off.

“If he’d fucked my wife, we’d be having averydifferent conversation,” Declan informs Tristan as the heat of his rage visibly washes over his face. “I would’ve fucking killed him.” I wholeheartedly believe him. Declan would have no qualms about ending any man that dared lay a hand on her. As much as I playfully flirt with Quinn, that’s all it is: a playful flirtation. I would never cross that line.

At least not with any of my brother’s wives.

Tristan wedges himself between the two of us and pushes. “It’s not like you have a favorite stripper for him to fuck. He didn’t fuck Quinn. So, what the hell is the issue?”

“Finn has his eyes on Father O’Flaherty’s niece,” Declan answers.

“Are you trying to get us fucking excommunicated?” Tristan chuckles as he glances at me.

“Have you fucking seen her?” I exclaim. “Excommunication would be well worth those long legs wrapped around my head or those pouty, pink lips around my cock.”

“For fuck’s sake, Finn,” Declan declares. “Even if she wasn’t related to O’Flaherty, she’s practically jailbait. And way too fucking young for you!”

“Then I’ll be in good fucking company with Tristan,” I retort. “Or do I need to remind you how much younger than himhiswife is?”

“Layla wasnotjailbait,” Tristan huffs, displeased with my accusation.

“And neither is Catlin,” I snap, even though part of me knows Declan isn’t entirely wrong.Not that I would ever admit thatto him.She can’t be much older than twenty; at least a decade—if not more—younger than me. I fuck twenty-year-olds all the damn time, and Declan hasn’t had an issue with any of them. He only has a problem withher.

“She’s not the girl for you, Finn.” Declan softens his tone, taking a different approach. “I’ve met her. She is nothing like the girls you normally date.”

“I don’tonlydate strippers, you know?” I huff in annoyance.

Declan shifts his weight, clearly trying to choose his next words wisely. “She’s not the kind of girl you take for dinner or drinks and then bring home to fuck. She’s a good girl, Finnigan.”

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