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We both laughed as she ducked back into the kitchen. That was the thing I was beginning to understand about Sloane, why she'd been named arbitrator of the Clan. Her personality was larger than life, swelling or soothing as the situation needed.
Connor tucked me into his side, his arm warm and safe around my waist. I smiled up at him, but when I looked past him, it fell immediately. Connor's brow creased. He turned, and his features smoothed into an expressionless mask.
“It's good to see you, Michael.”
“Connor.” Michael just nodded at me, brusque, formal, and to the point. It was enough to make me want to scream. “Traffic bad on the way over?”
“You know how 93 gets this time of night.”
“Glad you could make it.”
Not a thing had changed between us. We were like two stoic titans locked in a battle of wits. I may have gotten my mother's compassion and sensitive nature, but I also possessed a heathy dose of my father’s stubbornness.
I had a feeling we were all in for a long night.
To my immense surprise, dinner went off without a hitch. Maybe it was because the food was that good—Sloane had apparently triumphed over her mother in the kitchen, and it was admittedly one of the best meals I had ever eaten—or maybe it was because everyone was too busy eating to bicker.
Probably the latter.
Then it was after-dinner drinks on the terrace. I was the one notable abstainer. Connor sat next to me, holding my hand tightly and trying to pass on feelings of encouragement as Callum, Tommy and Sloane prattled on about everything and nothing until I could barely stand it any longer.
“Uh, Mich--Dad, could I speak with you for a moment?” I blurted.
Michael stared at me for a beat. Then he nodded once, and walked inside. I assumed I was to follow him.
Connor gripped her hand and brushed a kiss, featherlight, to my temple. “It’s gonna be fine. Just say your piece and listen to his, and go from there. Fuck 'im if he doesn't like it, but at least you'll have spoken your heart."
My eyes met his, stormy grey, as changeable as the sea. He wasn't my enemy anymore. But he also wasn't a rock I could cling to. He was a hand, extended when I needed it, pulling me up to stand side by side with him as equals.
When had we gotten to this point? The last week had seen even more violence for the McTiernan Clan, more shakedowns, betrayals, and losses. I knew about it all, now. I was a part of it. But maybe that was the point. This time, it was on my own terms, my own rules. This time, I was in charge of my destiny.
I leaned forward. It was barely a kiss as my lips brushed his cheek, but I heard his breath hitch all the same. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to take Connor home right now and do unspeakable things in the bedroom, but I was painfully aware of Sloane and Tommy's eyes on us. Not to mention my father waiting inside for a conversation I'd rather claw my own face off than have.
Before I could second-guess myself, I stood and walked inside, pausing just inside the doorway to collect myself. I could hear Tommy and Connor talking outside.
“Do I need to be concerned about that?” Tommy asked.
"Concerned with what?"
Even I could hear the defensiveness in Connor's voice, but Tommy just chuckled. "The part where my sister looked a breath away from letting you take her right here on the patio, or the part where you think it's a good idea for Cassidy and Michael to hash things out?"
"It wasn't my idea, it was hers. I support her."
I could hear Tommy grinning through bared teeth. "Again, the talking part, or the riding your dick part?"
"Fuck off."
"I think it's a good idea," Sloane said. "Both parts."
Tommy sputtered. "You too?"
"You're outnumbered, Thomas," Sloane purred. "Better get used to it. Your baby sister can make her own decisions. She hasn't needed you for a very long time. Besides--it's nice seeing something that at least resembles a smile on Connor's face."
"Sitting right here," Connor said loudly. "Actually, Sloane, I could use your help with something..."
The conversation descended into good-natured bickering, and I walked down the hallway with a faint smile on my face. It disappeared when I saw my father standing in Callum's home office, hands clasped behind his back as he contemplated the books on the shelves.
“All right, Cassidy, now that we’ve rudely removed ourselves from my guests, what was it that you so urgently needed to speak with me about.” The words were thrown at me in angry growl, but I refused to rise to the bait.
