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Savannah huffed. “Eoghan. Duh. I told Inessa you’d sort him out.”
“Did you expect me to beat the crap out of him in Aoife’s hallway? I’ve already taken advantage of her hospitality too much this month—”
Aoife’s smile said otherwise. “You’re in my good graces since Finn told me you met with my uncle and he came out of it alive.”
“That’s the first time anyone’s ever liked me for not killing someone,” I drawled, hitching my hip against the counter as I folded my arms across my chest. “Eoghan isn’t a bag of laundry that needs to be sorted into whites and colors, Savannah.”
“You talked to him though?” Inessa peppered, seeming quite urgent.
“I did.”
“He’s been so down since we found out I wasn’t pregnant.” She bit her lip. “It’s strange because we both agree that I’m too young for any of that.”
“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”
Inessa blinked at me. “Eoghan isn’t a beggar.”
“You couldn’t tell with what you’ve got him wearing. Been binge-watching Peaky Blinders, Inessa?” Camille taunted, watching her sister blush with a grin.
“Shut up!” she hissed in Russian.
“But it’s so fun to tease you,” Camille retorted in their mother tongue.
“And I can totally eavesdrop and let everyone know what you’re saying.”
Both women gaped at me as I spoke to them in fluent Russian.
“God, you spies never let anyone have any fun,” Inessa grumbled, making me snort.
Savannah, Aela, and Aoife cast each other confused glances, but I merely shrugged and said, “You’re all boring. I’m going to talk to the boys. At least they talk about murder and guns.”
“You’re such a tomboy,” Savannah called out, but I ignored her and wandered over to the room Aoife called Finn’s ‘man cave.’
If that was a cave, the Neanderthals were more evolved than we thought.
I didn’t bother knocking on the door because if I did, they could always toss me out. Instead, I waltzed in and saw them glance at me before they looked away. Even Brennan who I knew had a hard-on for me. And not in the way Conor did, either.
Speaking of, Con held out his hand for me and I moved over to his armchair and took a seat on the armrest. “What are you plotting?”
Brennan grunted under his breath, but Declan kicked him.
I just mocked, “Conor, I think your brother has low blood sugar. Give him some candy.”
He snickered and tossed him a Jolly Rancher from the treasure trove of candy that was his pocket, which Brennan batted away with a scowl. Then, he answered, “The types of questions we should ask Shay so it doesn’t seem like we’re interviewing him for the most important job in the world.”
I chuckled. “Most important job in the world? Doesn’t meeting my grandfather put that into perspective?”
Conor grimaced. “True. Hell, even that fucker Sheridan Reinier had more power than Davidson.”
My moue of distaste didn’t go unnoticed by him and he grabbed my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles.
Surprised by the tender, affectionate act in front of his siblings, I stroked my thumb over the fingers that still held on tight to mine.
“Is he in debate club?” I asked Declan.
“Sure is.” He sipped his scotch. “And the little fecker can run rings around me already.”
“That’s because you weren’t made for debating,” Aidan retorted. “That’s Brennan’s specialty.”
