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“He was playing dolls. Brought his own Barbie wardrobe and everything,” Liam said, dodging a halfhearted kick from Sam.
Josh grunted. “My granddaughter got the McKenna female wiles. She’s every bit as manipulative as her grandmother. And her mother. And her aunts.”
“Kate’s not like that,” Brian said, patiently mopping baby spit from his shoulder.
“That’s because that baby girl doesn’t know how to lie,” Josh said. “She’d tell you you’re ugly to your face if the thought popped into her head. Manipulation doesn’t pop into her head.”
“Neither do manners,” Liam muttered.
Sam wisely stayed out of the familiar argument. All of the McKenna sisters were stunning and likable in their way. Megan had the sort of sturdy, bossy competence that came with being the oldest, just as Kate had the oblivious, semi-self-absorbed air of the baby of the family. Then there was Riley. And speaking of …
All four men turned to see Riley and the douche bag Brent standing in the doorway. “Brent’s leaving,” Riley said, looking around the room expectantly.
She was met with vacant stares. Sam knew the other men’s thoughts echoed his own. And?
Riley’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you want to say goodbye? Dad?”
“Bye,” Josh grunted.
Her eyes narrowed further. “Liam.”
Her brother squirmed slightly at her tone. “See ya,” he said, with a quick nod at Brent.
“Nice to meet you all,” Brent said with a polite smile. “I hope to see you again soon.”
“Sure,” Liam muttered.
Sam kept his eyes carefully focused on the television even though he didn’t have a clue who was playing. Not for the first time, he wished it could have been the more direct, younger McKenna he’d fallen for. There’d be none of these games with Kate. Kate wouldn’t have thought to flaunt another man in his face to show him what he was missing. To make him visualize Brent
’s hands on her tiny waist, his mouth …
Damn it.
Against his will, his eyes went to Riley and Brent, but they’d disappeared. He forced himself to stay put, even though his heart started pounding. He felt restless. Antsy. He felt … jealous.
Where was that coming from? Why now? He’d spent years reminding himself that Riley wasn’t his. That he had no right to resent her relationships. But the burning sensation in his neck and the knot in his stomach was definitely jealousy.
Goddamn, this room was suffocating.
“Be right back,” he muttered, setting his beer on a coaster so Erin wouldn’t tan his ass if he marked up the furniture, and headed out of the living room. Riley had said only that Brent was leaving, not that they were leaving, which meant that she might still be here. Maybe they could talk …
No, he didn’t want to talk. He wanted to do a hell of a lot more than talk.
Needing fresh air, he started toward the back door, only to see a congregation of women hovering. No thanks. He reversed, heading toward the front door.
And came to a halt when he saw Riley and Brent standing in the foyer. Brent’s arm was sliding around Riley’s back, his head tilting down as Riley’s arms lifted, preparing to lock around the man’s neck.
Oh hell no.
“Riley, you got a minute?” Sam blurted out.
Fuck.
She spun around, and he braced himself for surprise and annoyance. Instead he saw something else. Victory.
Double fuck.
She’d planned this. And he’d walked right into it, like a horny bull.
