Blythe laughs. “Yeah, but Firth looked like an old, hairy dog face—”
“Red,” Leith adds.
“Excuse me, cousin,” Blythe corrects himself, “an old,red, hairy dog-facedwean.”
“Good thing Firth ain’t here,” I shake my head.
“He’s still begrudging Leith over the midges?”
“Thefeckif I know,” Leith snorts. “I gave him whiskey. Lots offeckingwhiskey.”
“The audacity,” Camdyn grits out. Finally entering the conversation, he points his Coke bottle at us all. “You do your best. Try to right your wrongs, and are you forgiven?”
My eyebrow cocks.Where thefeckdid that come from?
“Karaoke time!” James, the bulky bastard, climbs out of his chair.
I drop my head onto the tabletop, tapping my dome. “The karaokeshitehas Kiera’s name all over it. Please. Noooo.”
Blythe strolls toward the DJ area, fiddling behind the podium. James grabs the microphone.
“That should be you,” I nod to Knox.
“Nah.” Knox flashes his cellphone. “Got some hotties in my IG DMs. They’re commenting on my firefighter pics.”
IG . . . D . . . M. What thefeck?
Voice amplified by the mic, James points to me. “This is Kieran. Don’t be aKaren.”
“Is this illiterate pieceo’shitecalling meKaren?”I growl.
Camdyn rubs his eyes with the butt of his palms. “Calm down, Kier. First, that’s an old-ass joke. Which segues into my second point, James is too old for this. Ignore him, bro.”
I glare at James while he sings into the microphone. “Kieranstole a woman. She allegedly stole his heart. Anybody see the lassie yet? Is she real?”
“Feckyou!” I cut in then recollect on it. “You know what. Brody saw her.”
“Sure. Little Brody ain’t here tonight.” James gives a sideways glance then takes a pull from the beer in his hand. He points away from me. “This is Camdyn, don’t be a Camdyn. His lassie realized something uphere,”James gives a Joker grin, tapping his forehead, “ain’t clicking.”
Camdyn shoots out of his seat about as hotheaded as a pack ofneds.He tempers himself for a moment, wriggling his jaw. “Fuck it. I’m not fighting clan.”
“Oh, you fight clan,” Knox eggs on, placing his microphone down with a satisfied grin. “You fight and threaten toslice and dice.Seems to me, Kier and Cam have cooled off. All because of girls.”
* * *
Days later, Clan MacKenzie crowds around my kitchen for breakfast. All except for Brennan and Nan, and Jamie. And Camdyn, who flew back to LA late the night after the baseball game.
“What’s your problem?” I pin my sister with an accusatory glare.If you ask about Bren, there’ll be one less member in Clan MacKenzie. Not like they’re starving for offspring.
“I sure wish Aunt Nan made the trip,” Kiera says, pushing around the food our gourmet chef created.
Good save, lassie.“Hey, you eat healthy unless we’re at Donahue’s.”
“Heh, I’d go there every day of my life,” Kiera mutters. “Anyway, how’s Jamie?”
Big Brody bites a bit of bacon, lifting a shoulder. A stranger couldn’t tell the lad’s gutted about the entire ordeal. But anguish brews beneath the surface of his rigid features. “Thanks to Camdyn’s lassie, doing better than expected.” Big Brody says.
Leith pushes his laptop away as Chevelle quietly reminds him how this is family time.