Page 6 of Of Grief And Gratitude

“It just looks like an invitation to me, lass.” There was no winning with how shameless Sean was.

“You okay?” Ben’s hand cupped my elbow as he stared Sean down in what was probably supposed to be an intimidation tactic. It fell flat.

I caught a muscle ticking in Sean’s jaw before he laughed mockingly. “This guy serious?”

“Stop.” I poked Sean in the chest and turned to Ben. “Everything is fine. This is Sloane’s brother.”

Ben didn’t look convinced, but he nodded once and relaxed a little. Where the hell did Sloane find a man who didn’t know her family connections? It was almost dangerous to date somebody who didn’t have mob affiliations. He could say or do the wrong thing with dire consequences. I resolved to talk to my friend about it later, because her attempts to help me get over my ex were getting a little reckless.

Sean crossed his arms over his chest, making himself look even bigger. “Da sent me to pick you up.”

“Seriously?” Sloane rolled her eyes. “Last time I checked, I haven’t had a curfew since I was eighteen.”

“Not you.” Her brother turned and pointed at me. “Her.”

I felt my jaw drop at the news. Seamus O’Connor had never summoned me. “What does your dad need from me?”

“Here, don’t forget these.” Sloane tossed me my coat and purse, then wiggled her fingers in farewell. “I’ll see you at home later.”

“Something about your expertise,” Sean hedged, wrapping a large hand around mine and tugging. “Come on. We don’t want to be late for the meeting.”

He was too strong for me to resist, and I shot Ben an apologetic look over my shoulder. “Sorry! Text me about coffee!”

I didn’t catch his response as the crowd enveloped me, and more regulars noticed Sean and cheered. “Come on, boss! Have a beer!”

Sean grinned at them but shook his head. “Can’t, boys. It’s all business tonight. Next time!”

He didn’t release me until we’d burst out of the front doors and into the cool March air. I quickly pulled my hand free from his and slipped my coat on while I tried to keep up with his long strides.

“Are you sure you don’t know what’s going on?” I asked, nearly jogging to stay next to Sean.

He pressed a button on his key fob, and a sleek black car parked at the curb ahead beeped when the headlights flashed. “Da will explain everything when we get there.”

Sean held the door open for me, and I slid into the leather seat, buckling my seatbelt as he closed the door and rounded the car to the driver’s side. I tried to fill the silence when he pulled away from the curb. “I heard you’re running the pub now.”

“Yep. Shane is working with Da and didn’t have time to handle things there, too.” He glanced over and bit his lip. “Does that do something for you? Knowing I’m a real business owner now?”

The scoff puffed from my lips before I could stop it. “Nothing about you does anything for me. You’re Sloane’s brother. I saw you naked as a child.”

“And I was so memorable you’re still talking about it today.” He chuckled and turned into his family’s neighborhood.

“You’re something else.”

Sean inclined his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It seems you’ll take anything as a compliment,” I observed drily. After only one beer and a sip of the second, I was already sobering up. Not exactly how I’d planned to spend the number one drinking holiday.

“When it suits,” Sean agreed, stopping at the large gate at the bottom of father’s driveway. He rolled his window down, and the security guard in the little box pressed a button, opening the gate so we could drive up to the house.

The O’Connors lived in a whitewashed brick home with black trim, large enough to be considered a mansion, but without statuary or animal-shaped hedges, only simply manicured greenery that made it seem more like the family home it was. I’d been there countless times, but always to see Sloane.

Sean parked his car in front of the house and climbed out, pointing at me in a silent command to stay put. He opened my door, and I ignored his proffered hand, standing on my own and striding right up to the familiar red front door. I turned the knob before Sean caught up, but he squeezed past me and took the lead as we walked to the back of the house where Seamus’ office was located.

Sean tapped on the French doors before opening one and greeting his father, who sat in a chair in front of the fireplace, his other sons flanking him. “Da. I’ve brought Riona.”

Seamus stood as I entered and spread his arms wide in welcome. He was an older version of his sons, tall with salt and pepper grey at his temples, giving his black hair a distinguished flair. He looked younger than his years in his black slacks and green sweater. “Good to see ya, lass.”

“You, too.” It was futile to resist, so I stepped into his warm, fatherly embrace and breathed in the faint hint of cigars and the caramel candy he kept in his top desk drawer. His other sons, Shane and Sam, nodded their own greetings.

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