I thought of Mirabel in her earthy dresses worn over boots. She didn’t even wear lipstick. I’d forgotten what naked lips tasted like. Organic. Healthy. Fucking nice.
He nodded. “I better get back there. See you soon.”
“You will.” I joined Declan. “Any news from the detectives?”
He shook his head. “They haven’t found the visitor yet.”
“Do you think we’ll ever know?”
Savanah joined us. “Are you talking about Daddy’s murder?” Her voice cracked. “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”
I put my arm around her shoulders. “Hey. Try not to go there. It’s your birthday. Dad would’ve wanted you to have a great time.”
“I feel his presence sometimes, you know,” she said with a pained look in her eyes. “I wish I’d told him I loved him.”
I tightened my arm around her shoulders. “Me too.” A knot curled in my chest. “I’m staying in his penthouse. He’s everywhere.”
“I’ll have to drop in.”
“Hey, stay there whenever. I’m going to be spending the next few days at Merivale.”
“Mummy’s got the bulldozers moving in already for the resort. That tosser Crisp’s hanging around like a bad smell. I’m still going to help with the interior designs.” She looked over my shoulder, and her eyes sparked.
I turned to see what had lifted her mood and saw a heavily tattooed guy lumbering towards us.
“Oh, here’s Dusty,” she sang, her face bright and back to party mode.
“He’s come all the way from Bridesmere.” She looked from me to Declan.
Dusty joined us, and we were introduced. The ink plastered all over his neck, hands, and fingers made me assume his whole body was covered—a kind of scrawled testimony of his lawless, probably dark existence. His neck was as thick as his head. I really didn’t get the allure. But he was obviously attractive, judging by how some of the women checked him out. That brutish, caveman appeal, I could only guess.
I pictured skinny Orson, asking myself if that was more Mirabel’s type. Then I recalled how she’d run her soft fingers over my six-pack while releasing a breathy moan.
Watching Savanah follow Dusty to the bar, I turned to Declan. “I see our sister’s appetite for street fighters hasn’t abated.”
He shook his head. “He looks like a fucking dickhead.”
I had to agree there. “Yeah. A fucking heavily built one that I’d prefer to have on my side.”
“She’s sniffing around Carson. He’s too much of a softy for our sister, though.”
My eyebrows flung up. “A softy? He could take on six Dustys in one go.”
“I’ve actually seen him wipe out a gang on his own.” He grinned. “But Carson’s got a deep side to him for sure. I saw tears in his eyes while Theadora played the piano at the boot camp. She was teaching one of the boys, and they ended up doing a duet.” He turned to his wife and put his arm around her, drawing her into him. His eyes filled with love. “I think it pulled on his heartstrings seeing that boy, normally a troublemaker, lost in music. Afterwards, the boy was as docile as a lamb.” He turned to Theadora.
“He has a ton of raw talent,” she said.
There was so much happening, I hadn’t even thought to ask about my new sister-in-law’s musical progress. “How’s the music coming along?”
She nodded. “It’s good, thanks. I’ve set up a space to teach from home, as well as teaching one day a week at a local primary. And now at the boot camp, it seems.” She tossed Declan a look, and he leaned in and kissed her. “I’ve also got a gig at the Mariner with Mirabel tomorrow night.”
My ears warmed to that. I looked at Declan, and he had stars in his eyes. “Your wife will be touring soon.”
He shook his head slowly and drew her in close again as a reminder that she was part of him.
“He doesn’t want me touring. He’s jealous of the male groupies.” Theadora giggled.
“I’ve got cause to,” Declan said.