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Fifty-Six
Declan
When Seamus walkedthrough the doors of the workshop, both black eyes were squinting as he immediately shook his head. “Mom won’t like it here.”
I frowned around the empty expanse. “What’s not to like?”
“It’s not right.” He huffed under his breath. “Didn’t you ask her for specs?”
“Of course I did.” I shoved my fists onto my hips. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Not enough light.” He peered up at the ceiling. “She likes overhead illumination.”
“I’ll bust open the fucking ceiling then.” I rolled my eyes. “Or buy her more lamps. You know how difficult it was to find this after the last two?”
“Telling ya, she won’t like it, Dad.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what there wasn’t to like considering the shopping list Aela had given me and which my crew had scoured the city to attain on her behalf. The fact she’d dropped the First Lady’s commission hadn’t changed her specs, God help me.
Either way, I’d bought the place now, and we’d have to reno it to fit her exacting standards.
Seeing as renting hadn’t worked out, I was hoping that buying a place, gutting it, and shaping it to her specifications would move things along.
I already knew my woman was a pain in the ass, but this had taken a lot more effort than I’d expected, and Shay’s immediate dismissal didn’t put me in a better fucking mood.
She’d gone through two ateliers in the past six months, and I was running out of places to put her exacting ass.
Walking over to him, I chucked him on the chin so I could get a better glimpse at his eyes. “I let Brennan start teaching you how to fight because I didn’t want you to be in a position where you couldn’t defend yourself, Shay.”
He jerked his head back and away from me. “I’m not going to let them talk smack about us.”
I narrowed my eyes on him, wondering if it was that people were talking smack or if it was the fact Shay had a new brother and he was finding it hard to adjust. I knew that I’d hated it when Eoghan came along. Feeling displaced sucked balls.
“People always talk smack—”
“I don’t get it,” he rasped. “I don’t get that they’re terrified of us, of Grandda, but they talk this much shit about our family.”
“Because terrified people do stupid stuff.” I smiled at him. “Never heard of posturing? Bet your ass their fathers aren’t talking smack about us.
"They’re just dumb fucks, kid. I need you not to get into fights over this shit because it doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t like it,” was his stubborn retort.
“Since when did you defend Grandda, anyway? Thought you were still pissed over him not liking having to share restrooms with trans people.”
He shrugged. “He’s old.”
“So?”
“We have to forgive old people and teach them to be better than they are. Anyway, it wasn't about that this time.”
My lips curved despite the fact that nothing about this situation was a laughing matter. "What was it?"
Those two argued as often as Aela and I kissed. That was to say every time they clapped eyes on each other.
"He said the ballet was for girls again." He stuck up his chin. "We argued."
“Not sure you can teach an old dog like Da new tricks, Shay.”
