Page 157 of Savage Suit
From across the table, Quinn beamed at him. “Whatever he says—” she nodded at Timothe— “should go in one ear and fly out the other. You’ll be happier.”
“You are sitting at the man’s table,” Dakota chided. “You need to show a little more couth.”
“I’m impressed that you pulled your tongue out of his ass long enough to impart that gem.”
Dakota opened his mouth, but she waved him away and looked at Noah.
“See how much you and Ry have in common? We have as many assholes in our family as you do in yours.”
“I’ve observed,” Noah quipped.
“Shut it, Quinn,” Dakota ordered, and looked at me. “Tell her, Ryan.”
“How the fuck is it Ryan’s job to keep my grown ass in line and also serve as family peacemaker?” Quinn demanded.
Dakota frowned at her. “I don’t know. It just is. That’s her job.”
“Says you,” Quinn said. “Not considering three grown motherfuckers left it up toRyanto care for Logan and me.”
And that was it right there. The reason Timothe’s passing dislike had turned into out-of-control resentment. My age. I’d been too young to move out, but the only one willing to take responsibility for Logan and Quinn. As the eldest underaged sibling living with Armani and Timothe, he placed every gripe he had with all three of us on my shoulders. I doubted even Armani would’ve allowed him to lash out at a grieving eleven and thirteen-year-old.
“Coming through!” Armani called, barreling to the table, and setting the casserole dish in the middle of it. After taking off the glass top, she removed her oven mitts and tossed them on the server behind her husband. Before seating herself at the other end of the table, she kissed Timothe as a delicious aroma filled the air.
Moments later, Logan returned with a folding chair and positioned it between Quinn and Armani.
“What did you cook?” Quinn asked, craning her neck to glimpse the meal. “It smells fucking amazing.”
“Your sister is incredibly gauche, Armani. She’s been using filthy language ever since she arrived,” Timothe complained. “This is the reason I told you to have the kids eat in their room.”
“If I gave a fuck about your feelings, your low opinion might crush me,” Quinn spat.
“Quinn’s over twenty-one,” I said, admiring Armani for her wherewithal. I would’ve left long ago. “And the kids aren’t in here.”
“The kids aren’t ever in here,” Quinn said. “They eat in the kitchen, anyway.”
“And even that was too close for their tender ears,” Timothe told her. “You’re as loud as you are vulgar and tacky.”
Glaring at Armani, I waited for her to defend Quinn. Of course, she didn’t. In her, I saw my mother. No matter what Daddy did, Mama always backed him up.
“The kids aren’t present,” Noah growled, and my entire body tensed, even though I knew it went against the grain for him to remain silent as long as he did. “The only one who’s being gauche, vulgar, or tacky, is you.”
“Who the hell are you to chastise me in my own damn house?” Timothe demanded.
“Your sister-in-law’s invited guest,” Noah retorted.
“Herguest, not mine. In case you haven’t noticed, no one else has a plus one.”
“It isn’t because of you, Timothe,” Dakota said, sighing and side-eyeing Quinn.
“It’s because of me,” she announced without remorse. “Both those bitches work on my fucking nerves. It was them or me.”
“Thalia is the mother of my son,” Dakota told her. “Your nephew.”
“My nephew, hmm? I only see Elijah when you have time to bring him for a visit. Which is almost never.”
“You aren’t that nice to Thalia, Quinn,” Dakota said.
“She isn’t that nice to me,” Quinn replied. “She’s not that nice to you, Dakota. That’s why she’s your on-again/off-again woman. That’s another reason I don’t appreciate her sticking her nose in my business.”
