“Understood, Dad,” Patrick added solemnly.
The girls must have pickedup on the tension between him and the boys. The first couple of hours were uncomfortable, to say the least. Rowan hadn’t looked at him after her initial look of disappointment. When her eyes got glassy, he would have gladly allowed himself to be tossed from the plane.
He could now say he knew what spiraling looked like. He was making one bad decision after another.
Everyone had taken turns entertaining Daniel, which thankfully meant his sons weren’t casting leery looks his way, and the Byrne sisters weren’t casting him metaphorical middle fingers.
Raven just put Daniel down for a nap in the bed that was set behind a partition in the back. She was back and Bre was going to lay down with the sleeping baby, claiming she was just as tired as he was. She was probably tired of the tension in the cabin. He sure as hell was.
The sisters sat opposite him and his boys. Raven and River sitting on either side of Rowan. He noticed they touched her leg or hand or arm often. Losing their little sister for a week, not knowing if she was okay or suffering had taken a toll, and they probably needed the continued reassurance of contact.
Once Raven was back, talk turned to Saoirse Kennedy and Timothy Daniels’ wedding.
“I get that Americans are the only ones who celebrate Thanksgiving, but come on, I can’t believe Saoirse picked that weekend to get married!” River complained.
“Well,” Rowan countered, “just think, everyone from our side will already be in Dublin, including Jo. It’s kind of perfect timing, really. I plan on talking Katy into going. She’d love a good Irish wedding.”
Raven was nodding her agreement. “I wonder if William will be joining his family,” she mused. “But consider the wedding date like this. Thanksgiving is on Thursday, so there will be a ton of extra hands available to help with the wedding setup. Tilly and Nan will be on hand to help with Daniel and your little one, Riv. We’ll have all day Friday and Saturday morning to finalize. Friday night’s rehearsal is going to be very casual. Finger foods only.”
“That’s true,” River grudgingly admitted. “It just seems un-American to plan an event on a holiday.”
“She’s Irish, sooooo,” Rowan bumped her sister teasingly. “I’m stoked she chose Murphy’s. Tim wanted something lowkey and fun for everyone. Saoirse must have paid the Murphy brothers an ungodly amount of money to close the bar to the public for two days.”
“Nah,” Raven corrected. “Saoirse, Cormac, and Ciaran have known each other since primary school. It was their wedding present.”
Rowan looked surprised. “That was incredibly kind.”
Hugh gritted his teeth. He fucking hated Ciaran Murphy. That man wanted Rowan and made no effort to hide the fact. He’d shoved his flirtatious bullshit in Hugh’s face on more than one occasion. He’d considered, several times, if he were honest, ruining the Murphys financially.
Whether it meant buying up the real estate surrounding the bar or screwing with their suppliers. He’d lain in bed many a night contemplating taking them down. The only thing that stayed his hand was the fact that if Rowan ever found out, she’d never forgive him. He still fantasized about their downfall. He was yanked out of his contemplations when Raven spoke.
“River already got the invitations out two months ago, so we’re good there. RSVPs have been coming in steadily. The cut-off date for responding is six weeks before, with plenty of time to adjust the headcount for food and seating.
“As River will be needing to take it easy in another few weeks, her tasks will be confirming hotel rooms for out-of-town guests, scheduling pictures, and” Raven smirked at River, “since she’s pregnant and starving 24/7, she gets to join Saoirse and Tim at the cake tasting. We already reserved the bakery, but the flavors have got to be finalized.”
“No fair,” Rowan frowned teasingly at her sister, “I wish I was pregnant. I love cake!”
Everyone laughed—Hugh broke out in a cold sweat. He’d avoided that discussion with Rowan so far. He hoped to avoid it a while longer.
Patrick stood and plucked River out of her chair and sat back down, settling his wife in his lap. She was laughing until his son kissed her into silence. Hugh quickly looked away. Voyeurism held no appeal, especially when it was family. What would his sons think if he took Rowan into his lap and kissed her for an indecently long time in front of them?
Probably clap.
He caught Rowan looking at him, a wistful look gracing her delicate features. Damn. He didn’t want her to be disappointed she chose him. Her earlier text aside, she had chosen him, and she would never change her mind. His brain understood that. His self-consciousness was a ‘him problem.’
He tried to convey his regret and remorse, but she turned away, adjusting the dividers between her and Raven’s chairs now that River had moved. She twisted sideways, propping her head on the side of her chair and swinging her feet into her sister’s lap.
“Okay, Rave, give me my marching orders,” she laughed as she placed her tiny feet on Raven’s thighs.
Hugh watched Raven flinch as her hands touched the red crisscrosses covering Rowan’s lower legs. He saw tears gather in Raven’s eyes before she glanced desperately at Bran. Rowan must have felt her sister tense up and tensed herself.
Thankfully, Hugh had raised extremely smart sons. Patrick started to discuss the Mile High club and all the benefits it came with to River in a mock whisper.
“Jesus, Pat. River’s pregnant. We all get it—your dick works,” Bran joked. “So, babe,” he turned to Raven, “you’re working with Cormac on table arranging and turning the band stage into a temporary wedding sanctuary. I assume you’re working with Riv’s ex because Patrick won’t let her near Cormac.”
“We never dated, you douche canoe,” River snarked.
“My wife doesn’t need to work with a man who used to look at her like she was a…woman,” Patrick ended on a wheeze when his wife elbowed his stomach.
