Page 162 of Broken Dreams

“I haven’t, because you’ve been keeping her to yourself,” she complains, turning to face us. Her smile is wide as she steals Quinn’s hands. “Oh, I love your hair, darling. You look just beautiful.”

“Hi,” Quinn says with an answering smile.

“Have my grandsons been worshiping the ground you walk on and giving you orgasms?” she asks.

Cian and I hide our smiles as Quinn’s cheeks burn, and Grandma Diedre nods happily as if that’s answer enough.

“Good, good,” she says. “What is this hook above my head, Duncan?”

“It’s, ah, for flying pole dancing, Grandma,” I say softly. “Linus and Quinn have been practicing their routines for a club.”

“Well what kind of club?” she asks.

“Not stripping,” Quinn says quickly.

“Meh, I wouldn’t care if you were,” she says. “You have a beautiful figure, darling. My grandsons may have to burn the club down, but that’s none of my nevermind.”

Chuckling, I say, “You’ve always known us very well.”

“It’s my job,” my grandmother says. “I promised your mother I’d always watch out for you two.”

Grandma Diedre is not my father’s mother, and dislikes him deeply. I can see Quinn worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth, and I wonder if she’s hit a mental wall with speaking.

“Ayla is around here somewhere,” I tell my grandmother to spare us all the awkwardness of silence. My mother’s ghost has a way of hanging around when mentioned.

I can’t be distracted by her right now, so I’ll light a candle after the party.

“She’s just over there,” Grandma Diedre murmurs, turning. Ayla is in the large swing sitting as she watches everyone.

I’m sure she’s taking a break from speaking to people, because everyone has been very supportive as she’s come back out of her shell. When you’re used to being a ghost, I’m sure all the attention can be overwhelming.

As I follow behind my grandmother and Quinn, I glance at Cian, who trails next to me as he watches Quinn. He’s deep in thought, struggling to figure out if he should leave her be or attempt to speak to her again.

“She’s going to need time,” I tell him. “Quinn only pulled herself together because she knew she needed to. Stop playing matchmaker, Cian.”

“The kid is trying,” Cian mutters. “I’ve spent the last month listening to him plead his case and he’s changed a lot.”

“Quinn doesn’t know that because she’s been avoiding him,” I say. “He’s banned from Cerenity’s club too. As far as she knows, he could still be a self involved dickweed.”

“Christian was never that,” Cian says, chuckling softly. “Watching them in a room together was like witnessing a car crash and being unable to stop it. He’s here tonight, somewhere. Imagine how much worse it would be if this were to be the first time they saw each other after everything.”

“I’d be kicking everyone out,” I grunt. “I wouldn’t be dealing with the betrayal that she’s feeling now, though.”

I know he has a point, but it was still shit timing. Leaving him, I join Ayla, my grandmother, and Quinn as they chat.

“This is such a lovely addition to the courtyard,” my grandmother says with a nod, looking at the swing. “What else is new?”

Quinn glances at me, and I take a breath to explain. “Ah, the sunroom has been transformed into a dance room for Linus and Quinn,” I tell her. “It’s beautiful in there in the mornings, they can play music as loud as they want, and?—”

“The dance pole fits there,” Ayla adds, snickering.

My grandmother grins. “Please tell me people are still having sex in there,” she says, shrugging as Quinn covers her face with her hands. She’s so cute when she’s flustered and embarrassed. My grandmother has a way of doing that.

Bryce O’Neil comes to join us before the conversation devolves further, saving us all.

“I thought I’d come over to say hello,” he says, his gaze on Ayla. I thought he’d have met her before, but he seems to be very intently staring at her.

“Hello,” Quinn murmurs, her eyes bouncing between her mother and Bryce. “Mom?”

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