Chapter 13
The scent of grilled steaks and briny oysters drifted in through the open windows, blending with the tang of salt air and the distant clatter of laughter.
Outside, some of the men were hovered over the grill, flipping meat and telling stories with wild hand gestures, still proud of the oysters they'd dug up that afternoon. Inside, the rest of the O’Brian family were preparing to cram around the dining table.
The kitchen smelled like something sweet bubbling in the oven—one of Sylvia’s berry crumbles—and whatever mix of flowers Sondra had decided belonged in the centerpiece. Darcie had lit candles despite the lingering summer light slanting through the windows.
Everyone was gathered at Connor and Darcie’s for a family dinner, though the real purpose, everyone knew, was to gawk at Sophie and Liam, freshly back from their honeymoon in Greece and still glowing like a couple in a travel brochure.
Sophie walked into the house first, hand linked with Liam’s, cheeks pink from the heat or maybe just the attention. Keefe was right behind them.
Nan clapped her hands together. “Look at you two so tan! I’d swear you walked straight out of a movie.”
“More like a steamy romance novel,” Simon muttered from behind a wine glass.
“Simon,” Sondra warned, elbowing him.
“What?” he said, grinning. “I’m just saying—look at them.” Simon gestured to Sophie’s flushed face. “You don’t get that color in your cheeks from the sun or that hairstyle standing up—usually.”
Sophie flashed a glare Simon’s way.
But Simon being Simon ignored all warning and pressed on. “Oh, come on. Like we don’t all know that you and Liam are having wild sex.”
“We—” Sophie was about to feign innocence but then thought why ? “How do you know that?” she said with an angry smirk.
“Sondra told me about finding you two at it in the snug.”
After smacking his shoulder, Sondra turned away with her wine glass tight to her face, giggling.
“Sondra!” Sophie cried.
“Oh, come on, sis. Like any of us needed her to tell us.” Keefe wasn’t about to pass up this golden opportunity to bust his sister’s chops.
“You came in with grass stains on your back—and don’t even think I didn’t notice the bite mark on your—ow!
” Sophie grabbed him by the ear pulling him down so she could whisper a threat into it.
It must have been a good one because his eyes got huge.
Keefe straightened after she released him, cleared his throat and said, “Sorry everyone, my mistake. My sister simply fell over. What I meant to say was,” he spoke very quickly as he dashed away to the dining room before his sister could catch him, “Sophie had the biggest hickey I’ve ever seen on her neck! ”
“Keefe! I’m gonna kill you!” Sophie shouted after her brother.
Everyone, except Sophie, burst into laughter.
“Have some wine Soph, and you’ll be as jolly as the rest of us,” said Simon as he threw his arm around her shoulders, handing her his glass.
Sophie took it from him and downed the contents in one. She narrowed her eyes at him, then pointed a finger. “I’ve got jet lag, a sunburn in a weird place, and no patience for your nonsense, Simon O’Brian.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “All right, all right, love. No more teasing. Cross my heart.” Then, behind her back, slapped Liam a high five.
Connor stepped in from the back door slapping his hands together. “All right! The steaks are hot, the oysters are browned and the babies are asleep—for now. Let’s not tempt fate. So, everyone grab a seat.”
“Smells great! Did you make a garlic butter for the oysters?” Liam asked, sniffing the air like a bloodhound.
Connor gestured toward the table. “Please. What do you think I am, an amateur? Of course.” Puh-lease!
Connor couldn’t boil an egg! Henry and Shamus had done the grilling and yes, they had indeed poured lemon-garlic butter onto each oyster as it grilled on the barbeque.
All Connor had done was hold the platter as the food was removed from the grill.
As laughter and conversation swirled around the table and the last of the grilled oysters were set down, Liam leaned over toward Shamus. He hated to bring it up, especially now, but the question had been sitting on his mind all day.
“I know this isn’t exactly dinner conversation,” he began, lowering his voice, “but has there been any news about Gwen?”
The table quieted just enough for everyone to hear Shamus’s sigh. “No, nothing,” he said. “Liam, are you sure you don’t remember anything else about her?”
“Sorry, no,” Liam replied, shifting in his seat. “Cian never really talked about his personal life or family. I only met her a couple of times—and briefly. She seemed nice enough. Maybe a bit guarded, you know? Like she didn’t trust people very much.”
“It’s no wonder, considering who her father was,” Nan said.
“Do you think she knew about Cian?” Shamus asked. “Did she seem like she was part of his… ‘business’?”
Liam shook his head, thinking back. “No, I don’t think so. Not that I’d be the best judge. She did once ask if I’d consider donating a painting to her charity auction.”
“You don’t remember what the charity was called?” asked Nan.
“I wish I did. I think it had something to do with children…” He had been trying to recall anything else. But the details stayed maddeningly vague. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Cian had led a double life. “I had no idea he was, you know…”
“An art-thieving, murderous bastard?” Sondra offered, raising an eyebrow with a sip of wine.
“Exactly.” Liam exhaled and pulled Sophie closer, his arm slipping around her shoulders. “He was always generous with me. Supportive, even. I couldn’t believe it when Sophie told me everything.”
“Well, he’s gone now,” Henry declared, clapping his hands and eyeing the food spread. “And this is a welcome home dinner, not a wake. So, let’s change the subject, shall we? These oysters aren’t going to eat themselves.”
“Right you are, love,” said Sylvia who was holding a sleeping baby Sylvie.
“Mom, you know you don’t have to hold her. She’s fast asleep now. Let me take her to the nursery. Hal is asleep too,” said Connor gesturing to his son who was sleeping in Nan’s arms.
“Mind your own feckin’ business,” said Nan. “Me and Hal are perfectly happy as we are. Besides, they might wake up if we move them, isn’t that right, Syl?”
“She’s right, son. Best leave the twins with them,” said Henry sounding as if he were looking out for the best interest of the babies when really, he was looking to wrap up the conversation so he could eat.
Now, Connor knew his children, and he knew well enough they would sleep very happily in their beds.
He also knew that his mother and aunt simply wanted more time with the babies.
And really, why take that away from them?
There were worse things in life than a child being deeply loved.
So, he left it alone and settled into his seat beside his beautiful wife.
Helpless, he glanced at Darcie, and she simply smiled that sweet smile he loved so well.
They couldn’t ask for more—or for a better family to raise their babies alongside.
Never mind that they no longer had much say in the twins’ routine—if they ever really had any say at all.
Oh well. Hal and Sylvie were content, and in the end, that’s what really mattered.
“So, Sophie, Liam, are you happy to be back?” Darcie asked.
“Of course. Greece is beautiful and all but we went through more bottles of sunblock...”
Liam nodded his head as he spooned a couple of potatoes onto his plate.
“I even missed the pub—” she saw a golden opportunity for a little payback to her brother for telling about the hickey, “until I found out that my brother had his eye on my waitress and nearly killed her.” Sophie looked at Keefe, challenging him. He wasn’t the only one who could tease.
“I did not. Stop exaggerating.” Keefe knew what she was doing and while he didn’t want to take the bait, he could sense this was going to get out of hand and quick.
“For feck’s sake, Keefe! I thought I told you to leave that girl alone,” scolded Nan, rolling her eyes.
“I did leave her alone! It was an accident all right? Jesus!” Keefe slurped an oyster then after swallowing said, “And by the way, it’s not a crime to date.”
“It is when you’re after my best waitress,” Sophie said waving a fork at him.
“I’m not after Ginny. Simon, help me out here, would you?”
Simon, sipping another glass of red wine and enjoying the conversation strictly as a spectator, raised his eyebrows over the rim of his glass before lowering it to the table. He considered for a moment—should he defend his cousin or fuel the fire?
After a beat, amusement won out.
“Well, I’ve never seen our cousin smile like he is now and after all, Ginny is beautiful, and I don’t see the harm in Keefe getting her naked and enjoying a bit of—” Just then a napkin landed on his face.
“Christ Simon!” What are you trying to do to me? I did not get Ginny naked, all right?” Yep, this was definitely spiraling out of control. Aren’t family dinners fun?
Simon daintily removed the napkin from his face and placed it on his lap. “All I’m saying is?—”
Another napkin flew his direction only this one landed on his plate.
Simon lifted his glass again feigning offense and returned to drinking.
Sondra thought she could help, well, sort of. “Keefe, there’s a nice woman who comes to my shop all the time. She’s got blonde hair, a nice figure… the one thing is she has this little quirk.”
Although he could see this was a trap, Keefe couldn’t resist the bait. “What sort of quirk are we talking about? She won’t eat green food on Tuesdays sort of quirk or she names her socks?”
“Well, she talks to herself like, ‘Nice job forgetting the eggs, Celeste.’”
“That’s not so bad.”