Chapter 11 #3
“I should’ve put the phone down, but stupidly, I scrolled through their text thread.
” She flipped the position of our hands, squeezing the hell out of mine.
I’d take the pain any day over the tears that free-flowed down her face.
“In one of the messages, Mom told him she’d do whatever it took to cure him, even if it meant having the twins tested. He agreed.”
It took a second for my brain to process her words, then I saw red. Pushing up from the table, I grabbed the tumbler, sucked down the spicy liquid in one go, then launched the empty glass at the nearest wall. It exploded on impact, sending shards flying through the air.
“Feckin’ feck!”
I raked my hands through my hair, pulling at the ends.
Rogan and Reagan were my heart, mo chroí.
Over my dead body would they ever touch them.
I’d ruin them both before they even tried.
Dad’s reputation in the business world had slipped several notches over the past few years anyway.
If he so much as breathed wrong in their direction, I’d use every resource at my disposal to rip his company apart piece by motherfeckin’ piece.
He’d be less than nothing by the time I was finished.
And Maeve…well, I’d figure out a way for her to feel my wrath as well.
Somewhere during my internal rant, my sister grabbed a broom and dustpan to clean up my mess. Her knuckles were white from how firmly she held it. Gently, I eased it from her grasp, set it aside, and pulled her into my arms. I’d sweep later.
“I feel like such a fool.” Her voice shook as she spoke.
“What did she say when you confronted her?”
“I didn’t.” She pulled away. “You know I hate conflict. I packed up the kids and we left before she got back from visiting her friend. There are fifteen unanswered text messages and two voicemails on my phone.”
“Sloane, you can’t leave it like this.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“Start by telling her how you feel.”
“I feel hurt. I feel betrayed. I feel like I could wrap my hands around her neck and choke the life out of her.”
“Okay, so maybe leave out your murderous intentions.” I chuckled.
“I’m being serious, Finn.”
“Sloanie.” I used her childhood nickname. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly if you could help it.”
“Mama. Mama. Mama.” Reagan chanted, skipping into the room. I hadn’t even heard her come back into the house. She was like a seven-year-old ninja.
“What is it, love?” Sloane crouched down.
“Is it time for da dress show yet?”
“Almost. Where’s your brother and Aunt Way?”
“In da back yard,” my niece said matter-of-factly.
Of the two, Reagan was more timid, especially around new people. Even though she’d technically met Waverly, it was over video call where she could run off if she got uncomfortable. Rogan, on the other hand, would chat up anyone. The kid would talk your ear off about everything, yet nothing at all.
A door slammed, followed by the slap of tennis shoes mixed with the familiar click of heels against the wooden floor.
Rogan sped through the house, on a collision course with his mother.
She braced for impact, clearly used to his shenanigans, while I cut him off, snagging him around the waist and flipping him upside down over my arm.
Waverly strolled in behind him, not looking any worse for wear.
“Hey, no fair, Uncle Finn,” the pint-sized terror pouted.
I righted him, setting him back on his feet. “You almost ran your mother over, Bubs.”
“Nah. Mama’s strong.” He flexed his tiny muscles. “She catches me all the time. Can I hab a drink?”
His little mind had to be exhausted. The kid switched gears faster than a race car driver.
Sometimes it was easier to just go with the flow rather than try to keep up.
Instead of correcting him, Sloane patted his head prior to grabbing him a juice box out of the fridge.
She must’ve stopped at the store on her way because Lord knew I didn’t have any kid-friendly drinks stocked up.
“Your nephew is a shameless flirt.” Waverly snaked an arm around my waist, cuddling into my side.
“Is he now?”
“He stole my heart, just like his uncle. They both did.”
“That’s good, baby, because it looks like they may be staying here with us for a little while.”
She turned her head and whispered, “What happened?”
As the dynamic duo jabbered incessantly to their mother about their backyard adventure, I quietly filled Waverly in.
Saying it out loud was harder than listening to my sister tell it.
The longer I talked, the more my blood boiled.
Sloane might not like confrontation, but as her brother, it was my job to protect her and I was itching for a knockdown, drag out fight.
It was time for Shawn O’Lachlan to learn there were certain lines you did not cross. Messing with my family was one of them.
I needed a distraction before I decided to hop a flight to Ireland.
“Reagan.” Her head snapped up when I called out. “What were you saying about a dress show?”
It wasn’t exactly what I had planned for the evening; however, I couldn’t be mad about the turn of events.
I still got to watch Waverly parade around in a variety of gorgeous, skin-revealing gowns, just with two seven-year-olds on my lap.
By the time she tried on dress number three, the twins' ability to sit still vanished, which was good because I was running out of ways to keep my cock under control.
“Dis one.” Reagan beamed.
“I think she’s right,” Sloane agreed. “Finn?”
All eyes came to me, but I was rooted in place by the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.
Waverly had on a formfitting, dark-green dress, held up by thin spaghetti straps and ending a few inches above her knees.
The shimmering material molded to her body, hugging her muscular thighs and slight curves.
Everything about the gown accentuated her natural beauty, but it was the deep V down the center of her chest that had my feet finally moving.
“There are no words to describe how incredible you look.” Being wary of the tiny eyes in the room, I kissed her chastely on the lips.
Her eyes sparkled and a faint blush bloomed across her cheeks. “Thank you. I feel like a princess. I'm gonna have to dig out my thigh strap for my gun though. There’s only one place I’ll be able to put it without it being obvious.”
“Baby, if you want something hard between those sexy thighs, just wait for the kids to go to bed.” I winked as her blush deepened.
“Aunt Way?” Reagan approached cautiously. “Do you want to use my princess crown for da party?”
Waverly knelt down as far as she could in the tight dress, placing her hands flat on her thighs.
When she smiled, my world tilted sideways.
Seeing her with my niece reinforced what I already knew.
She was right where she belonged…with me.
There was only one thing left to do. I was going to make her my wife.
Special Agent Waverly O’Lachlan had a nice ring to it.
Ring. Feck, I needed one of those.
“I’d love to, sweet cheeks.”
Sloane sucked in a quick breath, drawing my attention.
I followed her line of sight to the space between my niece and my love.
We watched in awe as Reagan reached out, tentatively linking her pinkie with Waverly’s.
Sprout was usually shy and slow to trust, yet she felt comfortable enough to offer her precious crown. The sight melted my heart.
“Her cheeks ain’t sweet.” Rogan grabbed his sister’s head with both hands, stuck his tongue out, and proceeded to lick her face from chin to temple. “See?”
“Eww,” she squealed, smacking his hands away. “Mama, Ro gave me his germs.”
Waverly quickly slid backward to avoid getting hit by Reagan’s flailing arms. She bit her bottom lip, trying to contain her amusement. Unlike her, I didn’t attempt to hide my laughter. I howled with it. These kids were a trip. I’d missed their antics.
“You’re not helping.” Sloane narrowed her eyes on me.
“Mama, she hit me.” Rogan stomped his feet, then added, “And I don’t hab germs.”
“Lord, save me. Tell your sister you’re sorry.”
“Why?” His little face scrunched up in confusion.
“Because we don’t lick people, Ro.”
“Reagan’s not people,” he argued. “She’s just a sister.”
“Rogan James Beckington.”
“Now you’re in trouble,” Reagan taunted.
“Fine. Sorry.”
“Good boy. You two go put your jammies on while I dish up dessert. Then it’s bedtime.”
The twins grumbled under their breath, but didn’t argue.
They raced up the stairs, disappearing from view once they reached the top.
Waverly excused herself to change out of her new dress and returned a few minutes later with it slung over her arm.
She and Sloane worked in tandem, hanging the remaining dresses on the rack the store had sent.
“I hope you don’t mind. We took the two bedrooms at the end of the hallway.”
“You can have whatever you want, Sloane. Especially since you baked.”
“Oh my God.” She smacked her palm to her forehead. “I didn’t even think to ask. Do you have any food allergies, Way?”
“None whatsoever.”
The two of them walked off together, leaving me in the dust. I trailed after, content to listen to them chatter about their favorite sweets.
An outsider would assume they’d known each other for years, rather than minutes, with how easily their conversation flowed.
I couldn’t have been happier. My sister needed more people in her corner.
Rogan and Reagan returned, dressed in matching red-and-black striped outfits with the bunny slippers I’d bought them for Christmas on their feet.
Their eighth birthday was just around the corner.
Because of the move, I knew Sloane had thrown them an early birthday party so they could celebrate with their small group of friends from school.
She hadn’t said anything about doing something on their actual birthday, but knowing my sister, she’d plan something special for them.