Chapter 34
Brody
Since returning home, I’ve not shared Kieran’s suggestions with my clan. Nor has Ewan taken the death of his hired goon personally. Erika asks me every chance she gets about my conversation with her cousin. She’ll not throw upon my boots over the bampot’s proposal.
I’m standing on top of a plateau that overlooks the greater Los Angeles area in West Covina. The city lights are starting to glow as it grows dark, and I argue with Justice. Ye wait till I fecking catch up with ye. That mouth. I pull in air, recalling my cock slapping Justice’s defiant pillow lips.
“I’m returning. However, the two of us have had about as much fun as what’s written in the stars for us.”
“Lovely, nae, brilliant.” My arm rockets into the air. I give Justice the night of her life, and this is how she repays me? “Brilliant poetry, Justice. But I’ve heard that line before. Next time I see ya, have the poem ye promised me.”
She gasps. “Screw your sarcasm, Bro—”
With a smug smile on my face, I execute the act that will shut her mouth until I can do it the right way. We will see ‘bout that attitude.
I tuck my iPhone back into my jean pocket, starting to turn around when my phone rings again. I glance it over and click my tongue. It’s not Justice complaining I’ve hung up on her. It’s a Beantown bampot, Wilmer. I’m about to answer when Erika wheels herself around the infinity pool.
“Girl problems?” she asks. Her long, billowy orange dress almost matches her hair.
“Nae. How would I look having problems with a woman?”
When she stops wheeling herself, I sit on a tropical glass tile bench overlooking the pool.
“Actually, Brody, ye would look accomplished. Like a grownup, not a laddie.”
“Och!” I roll my eyes.
“Ye should’ve made a show of the whole ‘my baws have finally dropped.’ A woman who can stomach the sight of me for more than a day.”
“Bawbag, that’s ye.” I point at her. “Ye stomach the sight of me, pretty much every day.”
“Ye’re defeating the purpose, Brody. We need to convince my da to let us live our lives. He sees an unlovable bawbag like ye, and a lass who missed her happily ever after. I’m thinkin’ this is his shoddy attempt at a love connection.”
Not really, lass. While thinking, I run a finger over the glittery tile. A part of me misses Justice. I shake my head, realizing I was touching the idiot tile and imagining her.
When I stand, Erika’s glancing at me thoughtfully. I mutter about heading back inside. I get behind her, grabbing the handles.
“Damn ye, Brody! I’ve got it.”
I grunt, continuing to push her past an outdoor kitchen and lounge chairs.
We pass the sliding glass wall. Firth is digging into a veggie tray in an all-white kitchen. One of these fecking custom cabinets is a refrigerator, and I need a beer.
“Ye are supposed to be moving my bràthair into the house,” I tell Firth, planting Erika at an area where the table will go once Leith buys one.
Firth finishes his carrot then says, “Ye’re supposed to be helping.”
“Where’s Crabbit Chevelle? She ain’t helping either.”
“That’s because it’s a guy job, arsehole,” Erika says. “Anyway, I was helping her in the shower when we got back from seeing that place in Balboa.”
“Lies,” I snort, picking through the veggie tray. Firth asks about the potential location.
“You wish.” Camdyn rolls his eyes at Erika, placing a Z Galleries box onto the island countertop. “If it were anybody but you with my sister-in-law, I’d ask for some of that action.”
“What about Chevelle?” Leith enters, putting another brand name box on the ground.
“Nothing.” Camdyn looks guilty as ever. He usually has a better poker face.