Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Molly pours us a couple drinks and we sit out on the front porch while Seamus, Brody, Declan, and Nolan yell at a Cubs game on TV. Caitlin, the youngest sister, is in the kitchen helping their mom cook dinner, which I note is only somewhat sexist, since Brody was in there earlier chopping onions and doing prep.
“Sorry if this is a little too much,” Molly says, curling up in a rocking chair. I sit down next to her and laugh, unable to help myself.
“You should see my family’s version of Sunday dinner. Seriously, we’re way more dysfunctional.”
Molly smiles a little into her drink. “I hear you have your own city block all to yourselves. Is that actually true?”
“We call it the oasis for obvious reasons. But I don’t know, sometimes I wonder how long that’ll last. The mayor’s office isn’t happy with us right now.”
“The mayor’s office.” She laughs lightly and peers at me from beneath her dark bangs. “I know my brothers are connected. They’ve got friends all over the CPD. But that’s different from the mayor’s office.”
“I know what you mean, but from my perspective, you all have it good. We can influence the CPD, but it’s not the same. I watched Brody make a phone call the other day and a bunch of cops that were harassing my family straight up disappeared. That’s real power.”
“Still, it’d be nice to have a whole block to ourselves.” She nods at the neighbor. “Old Lady McGlinty’s missing a few screws. She was out mowing the lawn in her underwear at midnight a few weeks back. And over there, that’s Robby McBride’s place, the biggest creep in the entire world. I keep telling Mom she should move, but she’s always been in this house. I mean, it used to be my dad’s office, you know?”
I look over my shoulder back toward the house. Earlier in the day, a bunch of people showed up to speak with Brody, and he’d retreated into a room to speak with each and every one of them. “Did your dad hear petitions on Sundays too?”
“Brody kept the tradition going.” Molly follows my gaze. “It’s a small thing, you know? Just listening to people in the neighborhood. But it makes everyone feel better.”
“I like it,” I admit, and I don’t add that it surprises me. Brody doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would give a damn what his neighbors have to say, but he heard all of them out, and a few of them for almost an hour each. He went from cutting vegetables to hearing complaints to sitting on the couch and drinking beer, and it’s like watching all the different costumes he wears, all the different men he’s forced to be.
We head back inside just as the Cubs hit a home run and the boys start cheering. Declan swoops me up into his arms and spins me around. “The Cubbies stink, but every once in a while, they manage to make us proud,” he says.
“Easy, Dec, or else the big boss is going to get all jealous,” Nolan says, grinning huge and waggling his eyebrows.
Declan leaps back from me, his hands going to his mouth. “Oh, no. I’ve touched Brody’s wife.”
“Please, don’t give me that crap.” I punch him right in the arm and he howls in mock pain. “If I want to dance with my brother-in-law and celebrate some sports stuff, that’s what I’ll do.”
“Says who?” Brody asks, his voice low and menacing, but there’s a gleam in his eye.
Seamus whistles. “Uh-oh. Domestic dispute.”
“Don’t give me that controlling crap,” I say, glaring at Brody. But I’ve got a smile on my face. “Or are you going to end up acting like some brainless caveman?”
“Nah,” he drawls, head tilted to the side. “We’re an arranged marriage, right? And besides, Declan couldn’t satisfy a woman like you.”
Nolan howls with laughter, and Declan calls his brother a few very choice names. The guys start flinging insults at each other, and all the while there’s a fire burning in my guts as I think about Brody satisfying me and what that would mean. He’s handsome, I’ll give him that, with the sort of lips I could picture pressed against mine and a perfectly muscular physique, but all of his brothers are good-looking. Only none of them have Brody’s presence, at least not in my eyes. When my husband is in the room, I can’t stop looking at him.
That’s an issue though. Since like he said, we’re just arranged, and that’s all.
I go sit on the arm of his chair. He looks up at me, a smirk on his face, and he casually rests a hand around my lower back, placing it on my hip.
“Maybe we could have an open thing,” I remark casually once the brotherly bickering dies down.