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Thirty-One

Brennan

I stared blindly aheadas Father Doyle preached to us about the Sermon on the Mount, one of his go-to sermons for when the old fucker had drunk too much the night before. I’d heard this bullshit time and time again over the years, to the point where I could probably preach it to him.

Unlike most Sunday mornings, my head wasn’t aching from too much Japanese vodka. This time, instead, I had a wife at my side, and my knuckles were bruised to hell, and my wrist was aching like a fucker. Well, the latter wasn’t unusual, but the wife? Definitely new.

This was the first time my brothers, my family, and the Five Points in general, had ever seen me with a woman.

It wasn’t like we brought our dates to church, was it? But aside from Eoghan, the rest of my brothers kept shooting her glances, curious as to whoshewas. I couldn’t blame them. This latest bit of family intrigue was a hell of a lot more exciting than Doyle’s lecture. Even Da, who usually ate up every word the old bastard spouted, stared down at his lap, the brooding scowl keying me into the fact that he wasn’t happy and still hadn’t gotten over last night.

I had two words to say to that—tough shit.

Although, an hour later, when Ma pulled me aside after we made it out of the church and that agonizingly long sermon, I wouldn’t deny I was surprised by her words.

“It might be best if you skip Sunday lunch this week, son,” she murmured, sending Camille an apologetic glance.

“It’s okay, Lena. I understand that our marriage comes as a shock to your family,” Camille replied, smiling softly as she patted Ma’s arm like my wife hadn’t just been grossly disrespected by my parents.

How was it that rat bastard, Vasov, had managed to breed such genuinely sweet daughters?

In her position, I wasn’t sure I’d have been so goddamn polite.

“This is bullshit,” I told Ma stonily.

She bit her lip, but reached up to cup Camille’s hand, ignoring me as she told her, “Thank you for being so understanding, dear.” She squeezed her fingers. “It’s been a long time since I had any chocolates from Girani’s, so that was a real treat. And the slippers are beautiful.”

The smile didn’t hit her eyes, even if I sensed her genuine pleasure with Camille’s gifts. I arched a brow at that, wondering what was going on with my mother. Something clearly was. And I wasn’t just overreacting because of the shrink stuff, either.

Ma, showing weakness in front of a crowd? Biting her lip? Hovering and dithering by our side as we were cut off from the pack? Not tearing off Da’s head instead of uninviting us from a family ritual?

No, something was definitely going on with her.

Pressing one hand to her arm, I squeezed softly as I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She moved closer, slipping her arms around my waist before she murmured, “Speak soon, son.”

“We will,” I confirmed, eying her as she scuttled away to Da’s car.

“You know where Callum is?”

I blinked at Conor who strolled over, squinting at Camille like she was a logic problem he wanted to solve, even if his mind was elsewhere. “Callum?”

“Yeah. Priestley said he went out on business for you. She ain’t seen him since.”

I shrugged. “Don’t know where he is.” I felt Camille’s tension, but ignored it, even as I dropped her a glance and saw that, not by a single flutter of her eyelashes, did she give a damn thing away.

I figured that she knew who was making the noise behind my office door now...

“Well, I don’t know where he is. I sent him out on a job, and I ain’t heard from him either.”

“Not like him.” Conor heaved a sigh. “I’ll ping his cell.”

“Surprised you didn’t do that already.”

He shrugged. “Wasn’t a priority.” Tipping his chin to the side as he took me and Camille in, he frowned, then when I didn’t say anything, prompted, “Shouldn’t you introduce us?”

When, in less than two minutes, all my brothers, their wives, and Finn and Aoife were gathered around us, I heaved a sigh, aware that this was how I was going to introduce Camille to the family—in front of St. Patrick’s church, with the Five Points’ Mob milling around the vicinity.

Perfect.Not.


Tags: Serena Akeroyd Five Points' Mob Collection Erotic