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And it always amused the fuck out of me, even if I never let her know it.
“You’re welcome,” I rumbled after an awkward silence had filled the space between us.
“You’re not used to people thanking you, are you?”
I pursed my lips. “We take in our world. You know that.”
“Oh, I know that,” she said bitterly, turning her face to the side.
I hadn’t meant to upset her, so to smooth over things, I told her, “I think you’ll like Aoife. Everyone always likes her.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s…” I cleared my throat. “Sweet.”
My prediction was correct.
I’d heard a little jealousy in her voice, but at dropping that one word, she smiled. “Oh.”
Since when was it a fucking crime to be sweet?
Rolling my eyes as I drove off the freeway, I muttered, “The rest of the family are just overgrown boys who bicker too much.”
“I can’t imagine you bickering.”
My hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Actually, I used to be the joker.”
I didn’t have to turn my head to know that her jaw had dropped. “You?”
“Yeah.” I shuffled in my seat. “I know, I’m different now.”
“Why?”
“Too many jobs. It taints you.”
A hushed breath escaped her. “Your soul?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. But don’t forget, I’m not Catholic.”
“I thought we’d have to go to church this morning.”
“We will next week, then we’ll come to the folks’ afterward.”
“Why didn’t we today?”
“Because of your father.”
“Do they know you did that?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“We’ve been through that already. You know I do.”
I rolled my eyes once more. “Declan knows. And I didn’t do anything.”
She snorted. “Yeah, plead the fifth after that conversation with Father, why don’t you?”
My lips twitched. “Wives can always testify against their husbands.”
