Chapter 3
On our way to Rowan’s parents’ house, my boots squish through the brown slush that the white snow has been reduced to.
Barely any left to cling to the ground, I’m a little disappointed that I won’t see the winter wonderland I came to Boston for.
However, the streets still seem festive, as house after house features blinking Christmas lights.
“Are you sure your parents won’t mind me staying with them?” Shuffling my bag up on my shoulder, I’m less thankful that Farrah over-packed for me than I was when she picked out the outfits.
“Yeah, all the kids are moved out but Declan and Quinn. They will love the company,” Rowan says.
“Okay,” I say as we reach their home.
Smaller than I thought it would be, I try to imagine eight people living here. Before I get a chance to, the door flies open and the frame crowds with their faces.
“Rowan!” They collectively scream, before piling out into the front yard.
She drops her bag and runs into the crowd, trying to hug everyone at the same time.
Their attention being on her allows me the chance to look them over.
Varying in sizes and shapes, they all seem to share those striking cheekbones that Rowan has.
While they hover close together, one towers above the rest. I can see his ginger hair and thick matching beard over the heads of his family.
Our eyes lock and, even from across the yard, I notice a glimmer in his as they widen. It causes my breath to catch, and I can’t look away until I feel something slam into me, knocking me back.
“Welcome,” a woman says, hugging me tightly.
She lets me go, and I swear I’m staring at Rowan with twenty years and a few gray streaks. The Cheshire smile, that all at once looks delighted and like she is up to no good, seems matched on all the kids’ faces.
“Well, come in out of the cold,” she says, leading me through everyone.
They all come in after us, and despite the decent size of the living room, it seems too small.
It could be because it’s filled with so much personality.
Pictures hang on almost every wall documenting their lives together.
The furniture is wooden and worn like it’s been put to good use, and even from here, I can see a table that only a big family would have.
The space is cluttered with years of memories built up in items, showing this is clearly somewhere packed with love.
I look back at them, and one by one, they introduce themselves while I try to keep up.
Quinn is the youngest with long hair that matches the beast of a man I saw outside.
Declan is kind of broody with downcast eyes.
Conor and Finn are blonde, bulky, and grinning.
And then there is Callahan, the giant who won’t keep his eyes off me.
Apparently, their dad is still on shift, leaving me with just their mom, Mary, and the rest of them.
Everyone starts yelling, trying to talk over each other to ask Rowan and me some questions.
Somehow, Rowan keeps up answering one right after the other, not at all fazed by the chaos.
I try to fit in a joke or two, making myself familiar with the family.
They land, and I even get a quick wink from Rowan in approval. It’s a lot, but it’s nice.
“Let the poor girl put her bag down, for heaven’s sake,” Mary says, leading me towards a room. “Take your time, and come out when you’re ready.”
I nod and escape to take a moment to catch my breath.
I can’t tell if it’s labored from the cold or the whirlwind of meeting so many people at once.
I didn’t think Rowan was telling the truth when she said she had hot brothers, but a certain person’s eyes don’t leave my mind even as I change into something more comfortable.
When I open the door, ready to join everyone, I see him on the other side.
“Sorry, Ma wanted to know if you needed anything.” Those damn hazel eyes meet mine again, and even though Callahan isn’t smiling, they seem to be. His voice, thick with the Boston accent, sounds brusque and deep like a drum.
There is space between us, but I can still feel his body heat radiating off of him. Cuddling next to him in this cold weather would be perfect.
“I’m good. I just have to use the bathroom, and then I’ll be out shortly.”
“It’s to the right.” He points, his upper arm bigger than my thick calves.
My whole legs shake a little at the sight of his entire upper half, sculpted and outlined by his tight shirt. Through it I see a little bit of a belly that shows he is well-fed and stocky.
“Thanks,” I say, pushing past him. Even without looking back, I know he is looking at my ass. If given the chance, I would probably be looking at his, too.
Not used to reacting to white boys like this, I have to wonder what makes him so special.
It could be the gigantic size of him that makes me think he can hold me up while pounding into me from various angles.
Or it could be the clear gentleness he radiates.
Either way, this friendly behemoth is off limits, no matter what Rowan suggested.
Once I get fully gathered and have reminded myself why I shouldn’t do anything with him, I enter the kitchen to a full spread and everybody else.
“Oh wow, I thought dinner was tomorrow,” I say.
“It is,” Rowan says while filling her plate. “This is what a normal meal looks like for us.”
“Well, with four growing boys, I got used to cooking buffet style just to feed everyone,” Mary says.
“What about Rowan? She eats just as much as us.” Conor speaks with his mouth open and full of food.
Mary smacks him with a wooden spoon, causing him to close it.
“Help yourself, dear.”
Sliding into the seat farthest from Calahan, I happily dig in, excited and worried to try everything. Only one emotion is warranted as the knife slides through the steak like butter. I knew to expect good mashed potatoes from an Irish-American family, but these ones have to be the best in my life.
No good at keeping my mouth shut, the moan is involuntary as I bite into the perfectly cooked carrots.
Before I even open my eyes, I already know Callahan is looking at me again.
Heat has replaced the earlier joy his eyes showcased.
The small curl of his lips is enough to hint at how he reacted to that sound.
“So, Monty, no siblings then?” Conor asks.
“No.”
“Lucky,” Declan says before being hit in the head by Finn, proving his point.
This starts an argument that has them each choosing sides. Mary stays neutral, watching them all yell over each other.
She talks to me one-on-one, causing my skin to crawl.
Always awkward around mothers, my lack of experience with a good one makes the doting put me on edge.
More used to the stilted, frank way of my father, her refilling my plate and patting my shoulder makes me more uncomfortable than the idea of being alone with Callahan.
A few minutes ago, that seemed like both the best and worst idea.
“So are all of Rowan’s friends as pretty as you?” Conor winks, one corner of his mouth tilting up.
Now it’s Callahan hitting him. He jumps up, and Finn steps in front of him, crossing his arms.
“Not again,” Finn says.
“He started it,” Connor yells, causing Callahan to smirk.
When it seems like it’s de-escalated, Rowan jumps up and hits all of them, starting a brawl. They don’t take it easy on her, but she holds her own. It’s only Declan who looks like he is suffering as he tries to crawl his way out of it.
I jump in to help him, leveling a hit or two of my own. Quinn looks absolutely delighted and quickly tackles me into the chaos. I can’t figure out who is hitting whom, and I can’t stop laughing.
“Enough!” Mary yells, and we all instantly hop up. Declan sits back down while mumbling the word heathens causing me to laugh even more.
It feels good and foreign to be in this place with a family like this.
I didn’t know if I would figure out how to fit in, but now I wonder if I’ll ever want to get out.
Something inside of me cracks, and a little bit of that long-buried hurt leaks out.
I don’t know if it’s in a positive way or not, but I try to ignore it.
“We should go to Patty’s,” Conor says, drinking down the rest of his beer.
“Hell yeah,” Rowan says.
“No way,” Declan throws his arms up and shakes his head.
“Are you going?” Callahan asks me.
All I can manage is a nod, getting one out of him as well.
“Then let’s go,” he says.
In the end, it’s just me, Conor, Callahan, and Rowan.
Finn has to go home to his wife and baby, and Declan is serious about not wanting to.
Quinn is too young to drink, so she pouts the whole time we get ready to go.
Almost everything in me says getting drunk with Callahan is probably unwise, but the lower half of me can’t be bothered to care.
When we walk in, the place looks like somewhere where everyone knows your name. It’s completely wood, from the floors to the walls to the bar. The stools have peeling red leather rounded seats on metal legs. Behind the bar is a glass mirror that looks older than everything else.
Pictures of groups of officers and firefighters are pinned everywhere, with some of the images even being black and white.
It’s clearly the bar that they all come to after a shift to cool off.
Rowan’s dad being a cop makes it obvious why this is the family spot.
Based on how full it is, the same logic must apply to a lot of people.
“Eight shots,” Conor calls as we all slide onto our bar stools.
“Eight?” I try to keep my voice steady, but it still goes up a little.
“Two each,” Conor says, like it isn’t obvious.
“Monty won’t be able to keep up.” Rowan slaps his arm.
Offended, I look at them accepting the challenge.
“Make it twelve,” I say while tearing off my coat.
They cheer and literally clap when I take the three shots of whiskey like a champ. Apparently, college came in handy for something since my degree in economics is pointless.
“The two things O’Connors are good for are drinking and fucking,” Rowan says, ordering another one.
This time I decline, while trying not to look at the reason that sentence intrigues me. Honestly, this whole family has pulled my interest, even if they also put me on edge. Especially Mary.
Entering into a lively chat about Conor finishing college, Rowan turns away, leaving me alone with Callahan.
I wish the song playing was an escape to dance away from this temptation, but the eighties rock doesn’t have the beat I need to get lost in the music.
So, instead, I have no choice but to face him.
“Silver or gold?” he asks, once I make eye contact.
“What?”
“Silver or gold?”
“Gold.” I finger the necklace, half hidden under my sweater.
“Thought so.” He sips the whiskey and Coke he ordered, while not looking away from me.
“Why?” Already feeling the buzz of the booze making its way through my body, I lean in a little more than I normally would.
“I needed to confirm for your engagement ring.”
He looks so serious that I feel a little bad when the laughter peels out of me. It’s got that crisp sound of unexpected joy that causes him to smile.
“That was cute. I’ll give you that, even if it was presumptuous.”
“I just wanted to let you know now that you’re going to be my wife one day.”
I arch an eyebrow and he mirrors it, before wiggling both of his, causing me to giggle again.
“This is our second conversation,” I say.
“Third, if you count me asking if you were coming.” He holds up three fingers in this adorable way that is unfitting of their girth.
“Either way, there is no way that you could know you want to marry me.”
“Why not? My pa knew the moment he met my ma. Took three months for them to get married, and six before she was pregnant.”
Clearly, a fertile family. The idea is enough to offset my desire to sleep with him.
“Cocky of you to assume I’m just going to fall for you.”
“You aren’t going to fall. That’s involuntary. By the end of next year, I will have you jumping into my arms.” He leans in now, his nose inches away from mine. It allows me to smell his woodsy scent. I think again about how nice it would be to cuddle next to him.
“You live in Boston.”
“I’m moving to San Francisco.”
“I live in LA.”
“I’ll commute.”
“You aren’t my type.” Turning fully to face him, the back and forth has me ready to argue and fuck him in this bar.
“Good, then that means this time it will work out.” He holds up his glass and then downs it in a salute to his promise.
I refuse to take a sip of my own whiskey and Coke. I’m too busy trying to figure out why the hell I’m reacting to this man like this. Never in my life has a man felt so familiar so soon. Not even Charlie.
Before I can think of a comeback that squashes this whole attraction, Rowan grabs my arm and hands me another shot. By the time I wash it down, I’m happy not to return to what we were talking about.