Chapter 19
Brody
Later in the evening, Clan MacKenzie meets at an Italian restaurant. Leith rented out the back dining area that spans a cliff's length, overlooking the dark sea. Camdyn and I grab a few whiskeys with Leith.
The waitress asks Camdyn to check his ID.
“Here you go, sweetheart,” he softens his tone, sliding a wallet from the inside of his suit jacket. I place my arm over Leith’s shoulder as he’s nae doubt eyeing Camdyn’s credentials.
“Don’t be a feckin’clipe,” I whisper, warning Leith.
“First off, I’m nae snitch,” Leith says while we head toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. Bright lights are off in the distance. Some rich nugget’s having a yacht party.
Leith divvies up the drinks. “I don’t believe the three of us will ever stop bickering, but I’ll tell ye bawbags something. We’ll feckin’ die for each other, aye?”
“Aye!”
We clap each other’s backs, drinking a couple of rounds. Our older cousin Firth heads over, and Knox too. The bràthairs have a bone to pick with Leith for not supporting the clan as much as we supported him in the past.
My eyes search across the room of familiar faces that I’d die for, landing on the lass I can’t quite place in a box. She’s checking me out, drinking champagne near the window on the opposite side of the room.
“Stop smiling, Brody,” Justice quips as I near her. Her usual braids are gone, hair parted into two plaits that accentuate her round cheeks. My face begs to rest between the two soft, brown pillows at her chest. The dress she’s wearing encases her curves. It’s silk, and my hands itch to follow all those delicious bends of her.
“Och, stop smiling?” I reply.
“I can read you. You think you’re the shit.”
“If that’s a good thing, then, aye, I’m the shite.”
Her head falls back. Her trill of laughter clutches my feckingbaws. My cock spears my pants.
“You dress up nice, though, Brody. I’m surprised to see you in a suit. Now, enjoy your brother’s event,” she murmurs.
Och, she’s done with me, aye?
Justice turns back toward the window. Her twinkling coffee eyes focus on something across the ocean.
I step up behind her, my body a wall, her breath fanning against the glass. “Ye look lovely yerself, lass, and I’m hungry.”
Growing tense, Justice retorts, “Dinner will be served soon. Go schmooze with the rest of your family. We aren’t cleaning your image for Chevelle’s sake, remember? So, you don’t need me.”
“Eh, Twigs. Don’t remind me. My clan’s seen this suit. It’s my only suit.” My fingertips trail over her hip. “Can a guy get a point for digging through my closet for this stupid suit?”
“Hmmm, you had to dig through the back of your closet?”
“Actually, my dungeon.”
Justice turns around.
The slight look in her eye reads how this so-called power move to face me head-on was a mistake. She clears her throat. “Hey, no jokes. You’re not the good guy, remember?”
“Nae good guy, lass.”
Her long lashes flutter away. “Then go away, Brody. It’s not past midnight. You’re not portraying a gentleman who wants to ensure I make it home after my shift. Also, I have my wits about me. Toodles.”
“Nae.” My fingertips lift the strap of her dress, trailing beneath it.
“This is a family-friendly—”