Page 195 of Duty and Desire
“He wasn’t in a monastery before he met her,Seenz,” Trine shot back.
“Lord save me,” Ingrid whispered.
“Not that we’re Catholic,” Trine said over her, aiming this my way. “And not that we have a problem with Catholics. We don’t. We’re just not Catholic.”
“I’m Catholic,” Lene put in.
“Because Rick’s Catholic,” Trine returned.
“I’m Catholic because I’m Catholic,” Lene retorted. “I just converted prior to marrying him.”
“Because Rick was Catholic,” Marte butted in.
“It doesn’t matter,” Signe snapped. “Talking about it is making Lottie think we think it matters when it doesn’t.” Signe looked to me. “We’re cool with all races, religions and creeds. I promise.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I assured her.
“Except white supremacists. We’re not cool with that,” Trine declared.
“No one’s cool with that,” Marte replied. “And that isn’t a religion.”
“Itisacreed,” Trine fired back.
“Right, would you four freakin’shut it?” Mo demanded.
All four turned to him.
Or five, since I did the same.
But he was looking down at me.
“Rewind to our talk in the truck. You got nothin’ to be worried about. It seemsIhad somethin’ to worry about. You findin’ out my sisters are a bunch a’ kooks and runnin’ for the hills.”
My mound of hunkalicious boyfriend looked hassled.
I smiled up at him.
“Ohmigod,” Marte breathed, moving toward me. “You were worried, Lottie? That’ssosweet.” She threw a look over shoulder at her sisters before she drew me out from under Mo’s arm and toward the coffee table. “Isn’t that sweet?” she asked her sisters.
“That’ssosweet,” Lene said, crowding into me. “We don’t bite, promise.”
“We’re just a little crazy,” Marte told me, reaching to get a little plate and handing it to me.
Signe snatched up a square cloth cocktail napkin, also handing it to me, doing this saying, “We’re not crazy. Crazy makes it sound bad. We’rezany.”
“Yeah, zany. Zany is good,” Lene agreed. “Now let’s get you some corn muffins. Mom’s corn muffins areto die for. And she only pulls them out for the special occasions.”
Special occasions.
I looked back at Mo, who had eyes on me.
He no longer looked hassled.
His sisters fussing over me, he looked happy.
I then turned my gaze to Ingrid who was moving toward Mo.
She had a small smile on her lips and this was pointed at her son.
