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“Aoife,” Marie acknowledged with a small nod, her anxious gaze flicking from me to Joey before settling on her husband, who was heading up the table and making no secret of his obvious ogling of my body. I had a full-length coat on, but I might as well have been naked for all the good it did me around this man. “I didn’t know you were coming over this evening.”
“I invited her.” Joey was quick to intercept the conversation, thumb smoothing over my knuckles before he released my hand and moved toward the oven. “She’s staying over tonight.”
“It would have been nice to be told that we were having a visitor,” his mother said quietly.
“I pay my way in this house” was my boyfriend’s cool response.
“Your father and I were hoping to make this a family night.”
If she was trying to make me uncomfortable enough to offer to leave, then it wouldn’t work. I had no intention of going anywhere without her son.
“That sounds nice,” I replied, giving her a false smile. “We’re having a date night.”
“Date night,” his father scoffed. “And you’re cooking dinner for her.” He shook his head in disgust. “Are ya completely pussy-whipped by this one, boy?”
“As opposed to just plain whipping her?” Removing a tray of lasagna from the oven with a tea towel, he quickly set to work plating it up. “And as for Aoife staying over, I wasn’t aware I needed to ask your permission for shit.”
“Don’t get lippy, boy,” his father warned, never taking his beady eyes off my legs. “This isn’t a whorehouse.”
“It’s not?” Joey drawled, tone dripping with cynicism as he handed me a plate of food and a fork. Reaching around me, he grabbed a couple of cans of Coke from the fridge and slid one into each pocket of his sweats. “Well, shit, you could’ve fooled me, considering it produces just as many unwanted pregnancies.”
“Joey!” his mother snapped, looking mortified, while I bit down on my lip to stop the smile from spreading across my face. While my heart cheered Go on, baby, you tell those bastards.
Tadhg made the mistake of laughing, which earned him a “Don’t fucking start, boy” warning snarl from their father as he slammed his fist down on the kitchen table and exerted his power.
I watched as five heads dropped like dominos in submission.
Or fear.
Not my one, though.
Not my Lynch.
Like a lone wolf standing on the outskirts of his family pack, Joey refused to bend or cower to the alpha.
“Don’t start getting too big for your boots, boy,” Teddy warned, glaring daggers at my boyfriend. “I have no problem knocking you back down to size.”
“You want to throw down, old man?” Setting his plate down, Joey gestured for him to go for it. “Then fucking try it. I’m right here.”
“Joey,” Marie tried again, tone admonishing. “Stop trying to provoke trouble.”
“Save your breath, Marie,” Teddy said, eyes still locked on his son, but making no move to leave the table. “That little cunt isn’t worth the energy.”
“Thought not,” Joey replied hotly. Shaking his head, he turned his attention to me. “Come on, Aoife.” He gestured to the door. “Let’s leave them to their family night.”
______________________
I knew that Joey would erupt the minute we were alone, so it came as no surprise that as soon as his bedroom door was closed behind us, he kicked it twice, released a pained roar, and then gave it a further four kicks before tossing his plate and our Cokes on his dresser and running his hands through his hair.
After abusing his bedroom door, the same door he regularly fucked me against, he yanked it open and stalked out, returning a few minutes later with my overnight bag, a jar of mayonnaise, and a regenerated thirst for pummeling his door.
Smiling when he handed me the mayo, I padded over to his bed and sank down, letting him do his thing and process, while I occupied myself by scarfing down every morsel of food on my plate.
When his knuckles were aching, his breathing was ragged, and his anger was spent, he slumped down on the bed beside me with his plate on his lap and a dejected look on his face.
When he made no move to eat, I stabbed a piece of his lasagna with my fork and held it up to his mouth. He stared at it for the longest time before finally accepting my offering and taking a bite. I repeated the move another seven or eight times, feeding him when he wouldn’t feed himself, until he shook his head, shoulders slumping in defeat.
Setting our plates on the windowsill next to his bed, I shifted closer until our shoulders were touching and leaned my cheek on his shoulder.
