Page 86 of Of Grief And Gratitude

“Oh, he didn’t.” Sean chuckled as he approached, his eyes darting to my gun and back to my face. “He figured you’d be right pissed, but he wasn’t about to leave Riona unprotected with you in the middle of nowhere. When Sloane couldn’t get a hold of her, he called Dante. It was your big bro who gave us the address of your little hideaway.”

“It has a kind of rustic charm,” Sam added, taking in the cabin.

I ignored him. “Dante did this?”

Sean shrugged. “Ish. Da didn’t give him much of a choice. It was that, or he went to your father. Given the situation surrounding your departure, that didn’t seem like the best move.”

“Fuck.” The single word encompassed my feelings about the entire situation. Behind me, the sound of bare feet clambering down the stairway echoed through the entry, and Riona flung the door wide.

“Sean! Sam!” She rushed past me, and Sean caught her as she jumped off the porch. “What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t let you get bored all the way out here,” Sean said, his hand wandering a little too close to Riona’s breast as he hugged her. He waggled his eyebrows at me and made a show of slowly lowering her down his body. Sam shook his head, but I silently fumed. How dare he touch my woman like that?

Then, I noticed what Riona was—or, more accurately, wasn’t—wearing. Her tiny black shorts revealed a hint of the lower curve of her ass, and her white tank top rode up, baring her midriff. When she turned toward me, I could see the outline of her nipples through the ribbed fabric. Sam had the good sense to avert his eyes, but Sean ogled her overtly. I wanted to smash my fist through that cocky grin of his.

“Did you bring Sloane?” Riona looked past the boys, trying to see if anybody else was in the vehicle.

“No,” Sam said, approaching the porch. “She had other things to do. She says to tell you it’s okay if you murder Sean in his sleep, though.”

Riona giggled and climbed the steps, leading us back inside. “Noted. We’ll see how he behaves.”

“What is this word you speak of?” Sean bumped into my shoulder, and I got a sense of satisfaction when I pushed a little of my weight back into him, making him bounce away. It only threw him off his game for a moment before that egotistical air returned.

“Behave,” Riona repeated. “You know, follow the rules. Don’t piss anybody off.”

Sam scoffed, and Sean laughed.

“Sorry, darlin’.” Sean shrugged and stopped inside the door, looking around the cabin’s lower level. “Chaos is my middle name.”

Sam whistled. “Well, this is unexpected. I figured we’d be rolling out sleeping bags or cooking over a fire. This is first class.”

I slammed the door and stalked past the brothers, tugging Riona to my side. “Oh, you can roll out your sleeping bags down here. Riona and I have the rooms upstairs. If you want to really rough it, I can show you how to build a fire in the firepit, and you can sleep with the wildlife out back.”

“I think I prefer this whole glamping thing,” Sean said, skirting around me and heading straight for the kitchen. “Got anything good to eat? I’m starving after that drive.”

“We only have enough food for us,” I lied as he searched the cupboards.

Riona whacked me on the arm. “Be nice. There’s plenty of food for everybody.”

“See, Romeo?” Sean grinned from behind a cabinet door, my name coming out of his mouth like a taunt. “Plenty for everybody. Sharing is caring.”

I wondered whether it would start a war between our families if Sean were to have an unfortunate accident in the forest. After all, the wilderness was unpredictable—all those critters, caves, and cliffs. A man could easily get lost.

“No,” Riona hissed, like she could tell what I was thinking.

I held my hands up innocently. “I didn’t say anything.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, finally covering those headlights. “You didn’t have to.”

“If we need to restock, I can run back into town and hit that little mom-and-pop grocery,” Sam offered, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“There’s fucking steak in here,” Sean called, his head inside the refrigerator. Nosy prick. He stood, holding a pack of steaks in each hand like sacred tablets. “Looks like we’re eating like kings tonight.”

“I’ll give you something to eat,” I growled, lifting my fist.

“Yeah, no thanks,” Sean said flippantly as he dropped the packages onto the counter. “Knuckle sandwiches aren’t my thing unless I’m the chef.”

Riona rushed forward, keeping me away from the obnoxious O’Connor, who was practically begging for a beating. “I’ll cook. Sean, get out of my kitchen.”

---