Chapter 34 #2
“Not quite, Dove.” His eyes are beaming with amusement, but there’s warmth in them, too. I shift slightly, tucking a stray curl behind my ear, a nervous habit. Cyan’s gaze flicks to the movement before he reaches out, twisting a lock of my hair around his finger.
“I love your curls.” I swallow hard, my pulse skipping.
“Okay,” I don’t realize I’ve reached out until my hand brushes his and he takes hold of my fingers. Our gazes collide. For a moment, the rest of the room fades away. The clatter of forks, the murmur of conversation—all gone.
Until I manage to pull my gaze away from Cyan to find every single person at the table watching us. Troy’s grin is lopsided, Rosa beams, and Thomas’s expression is unreadable.
Cyan leans back, voice loud enough for all to hear.
“They’re a nosy bunch of fuckers.” The tension shatters, replaced by laughter, and just like that, the moment is gone.
But something tells me it’s far from over.
Heat prickles at the back of my neck. How long have they been watching us?
I try to jerk my hand free from his, but Cyan doesn’t let go.
His thumb skims against my palm, tracing the inside of my wrist next to his gift, in a slow and deliberate stroke.
A shiver runs through me, betraying me, and the flicker of amusement in his gaze tells me he felt it.
Collin is the first to break the silence. “Mercy me, the sexual tension in this room could set off the fucking smoke alarms.”
Troy barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, someone pass the fire extinguisher before this whole damn table goes up in flames.” I snap my gaze to my plate, mortified. Cyan? His lips twitch, far too pleased with himself. The arrogant bastard is enjoying this.
Rosa, clearly delighted, waves a hand at her boys. “Enough, you all stop teasing Aria. Let the girl eat.” I focus on my plate, pretending my face isn’t burning. I can feel Cyan watching me the entire time.
“Let me introduce you properly,” Cyan says. “You already know Collin, Johnny, Troy, and Thomas. Next to Thomas is his wife, Lucilla, and their daughter, Evie.”
Lucilla inclines her head. “Nice to meet you, Aria, welcome to the family.” She says, even the way she speaks is perfect, like her outfit. Little Evie peeks out from behind her mother’s arm and gives me a shy wave, her wide eyes bright with curiosity.
Cyan tips his glass to the right. “Aria, this is the oldest of the Walsh brothers–Sebastian.”
He gestures toward the man with the sharp jawline and intense gaze, then to the two beside him. “And the twins–Trent and Liam.”
I blink at the two men, who are identical but entirely different.
Trent, with his shaved head and tattoos, has a relaxed smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Liam, with his jet-black hair falling past his shoulders, seemed the opposite; quieter, more reserved.
Both nod in greeting. Do all these men have mobster names like Cyan’s?
“Next we’ve got the Clancy brothers—Jake and Gabriel.
” Jake acknowledges me with a grunt and a nod, and returns to staring at his phone screen, his scowl carved deep into his features. Gabriel, though, is entirely different.
“Hey.” Gabriel sends a half-grin my way as he lifts his glass, his wild curls tousled, his bright hazel eyes practically glowing under the dining room lights. He’s the kind of gorgeous that momentarily steals one’s breath.
“N-Nice to meet you all.” I stutter out, finally finding my voice. I admit Gabriel is drop-dead handsome, but his looks do nothing for me. It’s Cyan’s piercing blue-green gaze that holds me captive, igniting a warmth within me that so overwhelms my senses I didn’t notice Gabriel’s looks before now.
Cyan grins, “I get it.” He nods toward Gabriel. “He’s got the kind of handsome that makes women lose their ability to speak. Don’t fall for it.”
Gabriel smiles, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Aria, if you ever tire of broody and possessive over here,” he nods toward Cyan, “I’d be more than happy to show you what it’s like to be worshipped properly.”
Before I can even process a response, Cyan’s playful expression disappears. “You know, Gabriel, for a guy who fucks as much as you do, you sure don’t fuck off nearly enough.”
“Gabriel is good-looking. But you know what? Looks don’t impress me as much as they used to.
It’s the dangerous ones you have to watch.
” I say, making Troy choke mid-swallow, then he lets out a bellowing laugh and winces.
Did I really say that? Out loud? In front of them.
My gaze flickers to Cyan, and he looks..
. pleased. His wolfish grin sharpens into something dangerous.
“Careful, Aria,” he murmurs. “I take statements like that as invitations.”
“Why does Uncle Cyan say ‘fuck’ so much?” The entire table, except Lucilla, Thomas, and Collin bursts into laughter. I glance down at Evie, whose big, innocent eyes blink up at me, full of expectation.
Biting back a grin, I chime in. “It’s a bad habit, sweetheart.” I pause dramatically. “But one that makes dinner way more fun, right?” Cyan groans, dragging a hand down his face.
Thomas exhales a defeated sigh. “Great. Just great. Cyan, you’re corrupting my kid.”
Evie giggles, bouncing in her seat. “Mommy says bad words, too! Especially when she drinks a lot.” The laughter doubles. Lucilla goes stiff. I glance her way just in time to see her look up at Thomas as her polished smile slips.
“Evie, darling,” Lucilla blurts. “Didn’t I tell you that little girls are to be seen and not heard? I told your father to leave you with the nanny.” Evie’s smile wilts. Thomas tenses, jaw clenched so tight the muscle ticks, as he finally looks Lucilla’s way. Lucilla flinches.
As her hazel eyes lock onto Thomas, something flickers there before she exhales, conceals it, and lifts her wineglass, but doesn’t drink.
Her eyes stay locked on the crimson swirl like it holds an answer she can’t find.
The moment stretches, brittle and uncomfortable.
Evie lowers her head, shoulders curling in.
The tension chokes. So, I do what I do best—I open my mouth.
“Do all of you fuckers have nicknames?” Heads snap toward me. Silence. Then laughter explodes around the table.
“Aria,” Rosa scolds, but her lips twitch like she’s barely holding in a smile.
“Oops,” I say sweetly, shrugging. I glance at Evie with an exaggerated wince. “Sorry, that word slipped. See? Your mom’s not the only one with a potty mouth. But bad words are like spicy food—just for adults.” Evie giggles. The tension eases a fraction.
“So?” I press, turning back to the table. “Do you all have nicknames like Cyan ‘The Púca’ MacBrady, or is he just the only one trying to sound intimidating?”
Collin finally looks up from inhaling his food. “Collin ‘The Executioner’ MacBrady,” he says casually, like he gave me his middle name, not his murder title.
I blink. “Oh. Well. That’s… comforting.”
Another round of laughter rumbles from Troy. “I told you she’d be a firecracker. That’s why you all owe me money.” My frown is automatic. Why do they owe him money?
“Aria, you’ll fit in around here just fine,” Troy grins. “And for the record, I’m Troy ‘The Bear’ O’Connor.” I get the nickname he’s a bear of a man. I’ll fit in. Troy’s words sit muddled in my chest, half-warm, half-warning.
Thomas lifts his water glass his finger holding it tight, his lips tilt wearily.
“Yeah, I agree with my brother, C. You picked correctly with Aria. I envy you. Salut, Aria. I’m Thomas ‘The Lion’ O’Connor.
” As he takes a sip, I notice a flicker of movement beside him.
Lucilla lifts her wine glass and downs the entire thing in one long gulp.
The second her wine glass hits the table, she’s refilling.
Thomas’s eyes flick to her glass. His grip tightens and unclenches around his own.
For a heartbeat, I think he might lean in and say something to her. But he doesn’t, just looks away again.
Leaving Lucilla staring at him with such longing before she downs another full glass of wine in one smooth swallow and refills once more without anyone asking her anything at all. The bottle is doing more talking to her than anyone at the table.
“Well said, Thomas. Salut, Aria, and welcome to the family,” Sebastian lifts his glass. “Sebastian ‘The Fixer’ Walsh.”
“Liam ‘The Collector’ Walsh,” he says with a small nod.
“Trent ‘The Saint’ Walsh,” Trent adds, eyes glinting in a way that screams the opposite of saintly.
Jake finally drags his gaze off his phone. “Jake ‘Trigger Finger’ Clancy.”
“Welcome, sweet Aria.” Gabriel tips his glass, mouth curving. “I’m Gabriel ‘The Angel’ Clancy.”
I arch a brow. “The Angel? That one has to be ironic.”
Sebastian snorts. “You have no idea.”
They’re all laughing, throwing titles around like it’s just a game, but every nickname at this table has probably been earned in blood, and I’m sitting here sipping wine like we’re at a work party.
I turn to Johnny, pointing my fork. “Wait. What about you? You don’t actually have a nickname, do you? ”
Johnny stiffens. “Yeah… I do.”
Trent grins. “He doesn’t want to say it.”
Sebastian ruffles Johnny’s hair. “Yeah, he really doesn’t.” Johnny elbows him hard.
“Jonathan,” Rosa says, all warning.
“Ma,” he groans.
“Out with it, son. I think your name is sweet.”
“Johnny ‘The Kid’ MacBrady,” he reluctantly mutters out.
Cyan barks out a laugh. “The Kid doesn’t like it.”
“The Kid should love it.” Troy claps Johnny on the back hard enough to jolt him.
Johnny glares at all of them. “I hate all of you.”
“I don’t know why you’re embarrassed. Billy the Kid was a total badass. People still remember him.”
Johnny’s irritation cracks into a crooked grin. “See? She gets it. Salut, Aria. Welcome to the family. I knew there’s a reason I like you.”