Chapter 6 #4
They were on their second pot when a sharp knock came at the front door. It swung open without waiting for an answer.
“Martha! We’re here!” boomed a gravelly voice from the hallway.
“In here, Patrick,” Martha called back. “Just come in!”
A moment later, two figures appeared in the doorway of the living room.
The first was a wiry old man with a shock of white hair and a face like worn leather.
Despite his age, Patrick Gallagher moved with the easy confidence of someone twenty years younger.
Behind him, practically bouncing on his heels, was a much younger, stocky man with a mop of brown curls and a grin wide enough to occupy half his face.
“Holy shit.” Matty Hudson’s eyes went straight to Eli. “Holy shit. You’re alive.”
Before Eli could respond, Matty practically flew across the living room and threw his arms around him. The hug was so forceful it nearly knocked them both into the sofa. Eli stiffened, but Matty didn’t seem to notice or care.
“Dude, we thought you were dead. Like, dead, dead. I went to that memorial thing they had and everything. I even said something nice about you.”
“That must have been hard,” Eli said.
Matty pulled back, eyes shining. “It was. I had to make stuff up.”
Despite himself, the corner of Eli’s mouth twitched.
Patrick, meanwhile, had made his way to Sloane. He stood in front of her, arms crossed, looking her up and down with a scowl that could curdle milk. “So. The prodigal daughter returns.”
Sloane did not flinch under his stare. “Miss me, old man?”
“Like a Goddamned toothache.” But the scowl slowly disappeared, and he pulled her into a gruff, one-armed hug that lasted exactly two seconds before he let go and cleared his throat. “You look good, kid. Healthy.”
“I am.” She rubbed her belly. “I assume Martha told you.”
Patrick’s bushy eyebrows shot up as he glanced at her stomach, then Jacob standing beside her. “Yours?”
“Yes, sir.” Jacob extended his hand. “Jacob Martin.”
Patrick shook it once. “You hurt her, I’ll bury you in the harbor.”
“Noted,” Jacob said cheerfully.
“And you.” Patrick turned back to Eli, his expression turning into something more guarded. “McCall.”
“Blake,” Eli corrected. “It’s Blake now.”
Patrick studied him for a moment, then grunted. “Good. Never suited you anyway.” He dropped into the nearest armchair like he owned it. “Martha, is that tea or are you just gonna stand there holding a tray?”
“You old goat, I was waiting for you to sit down.” Martha took her time walking over and handed him a cup, which he accepted without thanks.
Matty had already turned his attention to Olivia, who had risen from the sofa when they arrived.
“Hi, I’m Matty.” He stuck his hand out.
“Olivia.” She shook his hand with a warm smile. “I’ve heard good things about you.”
“Really?” His face lit up and he looked over at Eli. “You talked about me?”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Eli muttered.
“Too late.” Matty beamed at Olivia. “So, you’re Eli’s True Mate? That’s awesome. Congrats to both of you.” He said it with such genuine warmth that even Eli couldn’t find a reason to be annoyed. “Have we met before? You look really fam—”
His pocket buzzed. Then buzzed again. Then didn’t stop.
“Oh, crap.” Matty dug out his phone, his eyes going wide as notifications lit up the screen. “Uh, so … I might have texted a few people.”
“Define ‘a few,’” Sloane said.
“Like … everyone?” He held up his phone, wincing. “They all want to see you guys. Both of you. Tommy says to come to Doyle’s tonight.”
“Doyle’s?” Olivia looked to Eli, her eyebrows drawn together.
“Irish pub,” he said. “The clan’s spot.”
Matty scrolled through his phone, thumbs moving at light speed. “Yeah, everyone’s saying they’ll be there. Danny texted too.”
Eli and Sloane exchanged a glance at the name and the confirmation that the former bodyguard didn’t flee after Ronan was captured.
“Sounds like a party,” Jacob said, his tone easy, though Eli caught the way his posture shifted. He’d noticed the look too.
“What do you think?” Sloane asked Eli.
There was no way around it. This was what they came here for. “Yeah. Let’s go.” At least this way, they could just tell their story in one go and not have to keep the details straight.
“Awesome! I’ll drive us—”
“We have our own car,” Eli said. “And I don’t think I’m ready to get in any vehicle with you, Matty.”
The younger man chortled. “My wheelman days are over, Eli. I drive a delivery truck for Shaws now. And I got a girlfriend too. I want you to meet her.” He looked at Olivia. “Both of you.”
“That sounds lovely.” Once again, she slipped her hand into his and squeezed. This time, there was no awkwardness. In fact, the gesture and her closeness felt much more natural and he managed to relax.
“C’mon, c’mon,” groused Patrick as he hauled himself out of the armchair. “I thought I was the old fart here. You’re all moving like you got cement in your shoes. Doyle’s opens soon and I want my booth.”
“You have a booth?” Olivia asked.
“He has a booth,” Martha, Sloane, Matty, and Eli said at the same time.
Patrick was already halfway to the door.