Chapter 13

Brody’s right. I adore Sunday dinner.

It’s my kind of scene. His whole family meets in one house that’s way too small for them and they do nothing but argue, make jokes, laugh, drink, gamble, watch sports, and eat. It’s basically heaven, and it helps that I genuinely like everyone, especially his sister Molly. She’s a little bit older than me but we have an extremely similar vibe. She’s all hippie-ish with peasant tops and flowy skirts and a bunch of tattoos, but she’s hard and she has a mouth that can stand up to any of the boys. We’ve got the same kind of energy too; somehow, she manages to keep up with me, which is pretty rare.

They’re so comfortable. That’s the best part. Some families are a little strained, a little awkward, but not the Quinns. They’re vicious and hilarious and it’s clear they’ve been doing this little get-together for years because they enjoy it.

Molly pours us a couple drinks and we sit out on the front porch while Seamus, Brody, Declan, and Nolan yell at a Cubs game on TV. Caitlin, the youngest sister, is in the kitchen helping their mom cook dinner, which I note is only somewhat sexist, since Brody was in there earlier chopping onions and doing prep.

“Sorry if this is a little too much,” Molly says, curling up in a rocking chair. I sit down next to her and laugh, unable to help myself.

“You should see my family’s version of Sunday dinner. Seriously, we’re way more dysfunctional.”

Molly smiles a little into her drink. “I hear you have your own city block all to yourselves. Is that actually true?”

“We call it the oasis for obvious reasons. But I don’t know, sometimes I wonder how long that’ll last. The mayor’s office isn’t happy with us right now.”

“The mayor’s office.” She laughs lightly and peers at me from beneath her dark bangs. “I know my brothers are connected. They’ve got friends all over the CPD. But that’s different from the mayor’s office.”

“I know what you mean, but from my perspective, you all have it good. We can influence the CPD, but it’s not the same. I watched Brody make a phone call the other day and a bunch of cops that were harassing my family straight up disappeared. That’s real power.”

“Still, it’d be nice to have a whole block to ourselves.” She nods at the neighbor. “Old Lady McGlinty’s missing a few screws. She was out mowing the lawn in her underwear at midnight a few weeks back. And over there, that’s Robby McBride’s place, the biggest creep in the entire world. I keep telling Mom she should move, but she’s always been in this house. I mean, it used to be my dad’s office, you know?”

I look over my shoulder back toward the house. Earlier in the day, a bunch of people showed up to speak with Brody, and he’d retreated into a room to speak with each and every one of them. “Did your dad hear petitions on Sundays too?”

“Brody kept the tradition going.” Molly follows my gaze. “It’s a small thing, you know? Just listening to people in the neighborhood. But it makes everyone feel better.”

“I like it,” I admit, and I don’t add that it surprises me. Brody doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would give a damn what his neighbors have to say, but he heard all of them out, and a few of them for almost an hour each. He went from cutting vegetables to hearing complaints to sitting on the couch and drinking beer, and it’s like watching all the different costumes he wears, all the different men he’s forced to be.

We head back inside just as the Cubs hit a home run and the boys start cheering. Declan swoops me up into his arms and spins me around. “The Cubbies stink, but every once in a while, they manage to make us proud,” he says.

“Easy, Dec, or else the big boss is going to get all jealous,” Nolan says, grinning huge and waggling his eyebrows.

Declan leaps back from me, his hands going to his mouth. “Oh, no. I’ve touched Brody’s wife.”

“Please, don’t give me that crap.” I punch him right in the arm and he howls in mock pain. “If I want to dance with my brother-in-law and celebrate some sports stuff, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Says who?” Brody asks, his voice low and menacing, but there’s a gleam in his eye.

Seamus whistles. “Uh-oh. Domestic dispute.”

“Don’t give me that controlling crap,” I say, glaring at Brody. But I’ve got a smile on my face. “Or are you going to end up acting like some brainless caveman?”

“Nah,” he drawls, head tilted to the side. “We’re an arranged marriage, right? And besides, Declan couldn’t satisfy a woman like you.”

Nolan howls with laughter, and Declan calls his brother a few very choice names. The guys start flinging insults at each other, and all the while there’s a fire burning in my guts as I think about Brody satisfying me and what that would mean. He’s handsome, I’ll give him that, with the sort of lips I could picture pressed against mine and a perfectly muscular physique, but all of his brothers are good-looking. Only none of them have Brody’s presence, at least not in my eyes. When my husband is in the room, I can’t stop looking at him.

That’s an issue though. Since like he said, we’re just arranged, and that’s all.

I go sit on the arm of his chair. He looks up at me, a smirk on his face, and he casually rests a hand around my lower back, placing it on my hip.

“Maybe we could have an open thing,” I remark casually once the brotherly bickering dies down.

I’m aware of what I’m doing. All the guys glance over, and I spot Molly standing behind the couch with her face in her hand, shaking her head and smiling.

“Don’t stir up shit,” Brody murmurs.

“Why not? We’re just arranged, right?”

“She’s got a point, Brod,” Seamus says with a wicked grin. “The girl’s got rights.”

“She’s my wife.” His fingers tighten on my hip. “And I don’t give a fuck about her rights.”

“What about my needs?” My eyebrows raise, and I do my best to look innocent. “I don’t see you clambering to take care of me.”

The look Brody gives me is pure hate, but there’s a deep, dark longing mixed in with the rage and it sends a jolt of pure lust into my core. His fingers lift the hem of my top slightly and brush against my bare skin, and it’s like he taps me with a cattle prod. I feel it between my legs, the instant attraction, the desire pooling in my core.

“I’m not going to talk about satisfying my wife in front of my family,” he says and there’s a warning in his tone.

But it’s too late. The other guys are on him. “Come on, Brod, if the girl’s got needs, she’s got needs,” Nolan says with a casual shrug. “Not saying I’m offering or anything, but I know a few guys⁠—”

The looks Brody gives his brother is startling. “Watch your fucking mouth, Nolan. Finish that sentence and I’ll break your fucking arm.”

The vibe shifts. They all look surprised. Even I’m taken aback. Brody doesn’t seem like the threatening type, and I’m betting that he doesn’t make them lightly. Why’s he acting like he cares all of a sudden when he’s done nothing but make it clear that he’s all business? He’s got to know I’m just teasing him right now. I mean, his brothers are all clearly in on the joke—they’re only rubbing it in even more.

But Brody’s taking the bait, and he’s rising to it way more than I imagined he would.

“Damn, bro, relax,” Seamus says into the stunned silence. “He’s just fucking around.”

“You think it’s funny to talk about another man with my wife?” Brody’s fingers are digging into my hip now possessively.

“You just fucking said—” Nolen starts but Brody cuts him off.

“I don’t give a shit if you’re all fucking joking around. It’s funny, I get it, you want to bust my balls. But now you know where the line stands. Don’t make jokes about my wife.” He stands and my jaw’s wide open, basically in my lap. “I’m going to help Mom finish up dinner.” Then he storms out of the room.

Leaving me alone on the arm of the chair. His brothers watch him go with varying degrees of bafflement. Seamus speaks first and looks over at me with an apologetic smile.

“He’s not always like this,” he says and leans back a little, cracking open a new beer.

“Yeah, I think the stress is getting to him,” Declan adds then punches Nolan in the knee. “Also that was a dumb fucking joke.”

“Dude, fuck you, you were doing it too.” Nolan glares and rubs his leg. “He just ripped my head off for no reason.”

“I think that was my fault,” I say, and my voice is very tiny. I get to my feet, clearing my throat. “I didn’t know your brother was so in love with me.” I smile and the guys grin at my joke, but I’m not sure they’re in the mood for laughter.

“Come on, let’s refill you,” Molly says, taking my arm, and we head into the kitchen together. I expect to find Brody, but he’s nowhere to be seen, and we end up pitching in with Orla and Caitlin, setting the table and making garlic bread.

I understand why Brody didn’t like me talking about sex stuff with his brothers around. Even though I was making silly, obvious innuendos, it still wasn’t appropriate—I was just doing it to piss him off. I never for a minute thought he’d give a damn, not like that anyway.

His reaction haunts me all through dinner. I’m sitting next to him at the table but it’s like his whole jealous outburst never happened, and the guys are back to joking around with each other and eating enough for a family of fifty large elephants. But I can feel Brody’s fingers on my hip still, I can feel how tightly they pressed into my skin, and I keep thinking about the way he stared at me with anger and pure, incredible lust.

I get to know his family throughout the meal. Orla, their mother, she’s an absolute gem and reminds me of a tougher version of my own mom. The guys are merciless in their jokes and Orla takes it like an absolute champ and isn’t afraid to rain the insults right back on them, which gets at least a couple really good laughs from everyone at the table. Caitlin’s a little shy, but super nice, and while I don’t get much face time with her, I promise myself that I’ll do better next time.

“Men clean,” Seamus says once the meal is over. I try to rise and help but Brody gently pushes me back into my seat.

“Men clean,” he repeats and pours me another glass of wine. His eyes remain on mine for a little bit too long and I’m thinking of what he said back in the living room about satisfying me.

And I start to wonder if maybe the guys had a point.

After dinner, Brody and I go for a walk around the block. It’s cool and comfortable out, and I linger close next to him, but we’re not touching. He doesn’t try to take my hand, and I’m not about to throw myself at him, not when I keep thinking about that stupid conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about what happened earlier,” Brody says, which is a really bad way of not talking about it.

“Then don’t talk.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at my brother like that. It was out of line.” His jaw flexes. “I hadn’t thought about—” He clears his throat. “Your needs.”

“You haven’t thought about my needs?” My eyebrows raise. “Come on, that can’t be true. I bet all you’ve been doing since we got married is think about my needs.”

He lets out a long breath. “You don’t make anything easy on me, do you?”

“Nope, not at all.” I get closer to him, grinning up into his clearly uncomfortable face. “Admit it. You like thinking about my needs. You like to picture me alone in my bedroom taking care of myself.”

He stares back and I can see how hard he’s struggling to maintain control. I think of his fingers clutching my hip, the ghost of his skin against mine, and a part of me wants him to let go. I want that caveman Brody back, the one who threatens to hurt anyone that gets near his woman. It’s not very progressive of me, but to hell with that. I liked it, and that’s what matters.

“Seamus had a point, okay? You do have rights. I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re a person like anyone else⁠—”

I fight back a laugh. “Are you about to give me permission to cheat on you?”

His expression darkens. “I don’t think I could handle that.”

“So you’re possessive, but you’re also not lining up to do the job yourself. Puts me in a bad spot, right?”

“I know.” He looks away. “It’s fucked.”

I want to tell him to stop being so stubborn. I want to tell him that maybe he can do something about it. I want to tell him that I’m not interested in cheating, or having an open marriage, or anything like that, and maybe he and I can just fuck and keep each other happy, it doesn’t have to be a big deal, but I can’t make myself say the words. Once I do that, once I go down that road, there’s no turning back. I’ll be his, and I don’t want to be his. Not this way.

“It’s fine, we’ll figure it out,” I say, giving him an out.

He stops walking and I have to turn to face him. “I want you to come over tonight.”

My eyebrows shoot up. Seriously, if they weren’t attached to my face, they’d be on the moon. “That’s one hell of an invitation, given the context.”

He grimaces. “No, not for sex. I meant, to see my place. I got it decorated.”

I laugh but it dies on my tongue. “You’re not kidding.”

“I’m not. And I need to tell you about what happened with Omar still.”

“Look, Brody—” I should turn him down. We just got finished talking about how we have to find a way to keep me sexually satisfied, which is actually kind of mortifying now that I think about it, but the look in his eye makes me stop.

Because would it be so bad? Sleeping with him? I could at least try to be his wife, and if not his wife, then his partner.

“No sex stuff, okay?” I say after a pause. “This is purely an informative visit.”

“Right, purely informative.” A sly smile presses at his lips. “But I wasn’t kidding inside. I could take care of you, wifey.”

I shiver and turn back to the house. I’d bet good money that he’s absolutely right, except I’m not sure I want to find out. “Take me home first and we’ll see about all that other stuff.”