Page 36 of Brazen King

“Just a lot of studying for my exam,” she says, rubbing her eyes and running her hands down her cheeks, which makes the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks stand out.

Even at twenty-three, my kid sister is adorable with her untamable blond curls, pointy chin, and distinctly Irish complexion. But she’s sharp as a tack, and I pity the man who might underestimate her. She’s a semester away from graduating with a nursing degree. And to be frank, Lance and I—as well as several of my men—are more than a little lucky to have her around.

“Come on,” I tease. “I’m sure you’re practically teaching the professors with all the firsthand experience we’ve given you at this point.”

Quinn laughs, the smile on her face making the years fall away once more. And she’s back to looking like the little girl who followed me and Lance around like a puppy dog for the first ten plus years of her life.

“Yeah, thanks for that. But I still prefer when I’m not having to stitch you guys up.”

“Does that mean we’re going to lose our in-house nurse as soon as you graduate?”

I’m joking, of course. I don’t want my sister’s life to revolve around fixing up a bunch of delinquents like us. But I’ll miss the hell out of her when she’s gone—even if she rarely has the time for me anymore. She’s too busy becoming an upstanding citizen. Unlike me.

Quinn laughs again. Her easy-go-lucky mood always helping to brighten mine. And I smile before finishing off my whiskey.

“Here’s your card, Mr. King,” our server says with a respectful incline of his head as he hands me the folder containing my credit card and the signature paper.

“Thanks, Louis.” I accept it and flip it open to fill in the tip. “Excellent food, as always.”

“We strive to provide nothing less for our best customers,” he says formally.

I flash him a half grin as I pass back the folder, then slip my card back into my money clip.

“Thanks for dinner, Killian,” Quinn says as our server departs.

“Of course. I’m happy to treat my baby sister when I’m sure she’s going to get an A on her big exam.”

Quinn rolls her eyes, but still smiles gratefully.

“Besides, I don’t have any other siblings to spoil anymore. So you’re it, kid.”

“I’m hardly a kid anymore,” Quinn protests, and though I know she did it quickly in the hopes of it going unnoticed, I still catch the quick glance she sends in Lance’s direction.

Her crush on our foster brother is probably one of the main driving forces for Quinn’s determination to grow up from a young age. And I’m just grateful that Lance continues to maintain a level of propriety when Quinn seems hopelessly incapable of growing out of her juvenile attraction.

“But we really should get Jamie, Finn, and Henry to fly out with their families sometime soon. Maybe we can invite them for my graduation,” Quinn suggests, her green eyes brightening.

“Absolutely. However you want to celebrate. It’s your big day.”

We’re actually a good-sized family, with three brothers separating me and Quinn in age, but they’ve all moved away to do bigger and better things than work for the family business under my command. So, it’s just me and Quinn in the big King family estate. And Lance, who spends most of his time with us, even though he has a penthouse nearby in Brooklyn Heights.

But I know Quinn misses the days when the house was full of boys who fawned over her as both the youngest and only girl. After our parents died and Finn and Henry moved out of state, that big-family camaraderie just kind of dwindled. Now we only see them every now and again. Which makes my relationship with Quinn—and Lance—feel all the more meaningful.

Quinn beams, though, to know we’ll be throwing her a big family get-together for her graduation, and when we stand, she slips beneath my arm to give me a squeeze.

Lance rises wordlessly with us, his signature frown in place as he follows us toward the door. And the patrons dining around us glance in our direction as we take our leave.

“I have to pee before we go,” Quinn says, stopping short as we reach the front, where the bathrooms stand off to one side.

“I’ll go get the car,” Lance offers, slipping outside a moment later.

Left to my own devices, I step out into the cool evening air and take a deep breath. The sun’s just setting now, casting deep purple shadows across the tree-lined street. It’d be a perfect night for a walk, and my feet take a few steps in the direction of home before I have time to think it through.

But I can’t just take off without informing Lance and Quinn about what I’m doing. Lance would be furious with me for taking the risk of going alone—especially with the feud I’ve started with the Sokolovs.

A hum of amusement rushes from me as I think about the message I sent to Boris earlier today. I can just picture the look on his face when he heard my offer. Not that the offer is anything less than serious. I might enjoy goading the old man. But now that I’ve had a taste of Natasha, I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough.

Someday, I’ll make her mine. One way or another.

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