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She points toward the door that she just walked through. “That lass has been crying ever since I brought that weddin’ dress in there.”
I fight back the smile that creeps up my mouth. This is unusual because I never realized how much Idon’tgrin until Haven has given me something interesting to do that’s out of my norm.
“I don’t know what you mean, Ma,” I deadpan.
“What happened to my curtains?”
Ah, those.
I lift my shoulders. “She tore them down.”
My mother props her palms along her hips. “I find it hard to believe that a young woman such as that had the strength to rip my whole curtain rod down.”
You’d be surprised, apparently.
“Redecorating, brother?” Kohen solicits, and it takes everything in me not to smack the little shit because he’s getting too mouthy, and I liked when he just left me alone.
Which is unusual, but it’s become more active since Haven arrived.
“Finnegan, I know this has been hard for you,” Ma claims as if she knows what’s running through my head. “But this isn’t necessary. Your father can come up with something else.”
I steal a look at Arlo, who just rolls his eyes and gestures for me to hurry her up so she can leave.
“I’m fine, Ma.”
“Are you?” Her voice sweetens, and I’m not sure why, but I know it’s typical when she begins to worry. “She’s a nice lass, but marriage is…well, for you, I think it may be too much.”
“She can marry Arlo.”
I’m going to stab Kohen in the dick if he utters one more word.
“Finn will think about it, Ma,” Arlo advises, helping me get her out of the room. “He doesn’t—”
“Arlo, if you don’t shut your mouth, I’m going to have you strung up.”
Geezus, now she’s on a rampage.
Those warm brown eyes don’t remove themselves from me, and I’m starting to get a bit annoyed.
Haven Kincaid is a menace.
And how she got my mother to feel bad for her only proves how manipulative she is. Mama has a big heart, and she hates to see people suffer. How I’m her child is beyond me, but I am.
“I’m not so sure I like this idea,” Mama claims flatly. “Clearly, it hasn’t been working out thus far.”
“She’s the key, Ma—” Our mother turns her head and glowers at Arlo for opening his mouth again. He’s quick to shut it before she continues. “Your father said you stated that you wanted to move the wedding up.”
“No point in waiting.”
“Do you understand what this means?” she asks me. “Your father and your brothers think it’s to gain the Kincaid fortune and land, but you’ll be standing before God.”Oh geezus Christ…“It means forever.”
“Until one of us dies,” I tack on. “I understand, Ma.”
Her brows immediately clash. “That doesn’t mean youkillthe lass, Finnegan.”
Maybe this isn’t a good idea.
Because the last thing I want is for my mother to despise me for a week because I murdered my wife.
