“Even so, I hate parting with five G’s like that. To Colin no less.”
“Didn’t Sister Riley teach you that gambling is a sin?”
“She taught me plenty, but not that.” Shay chuckles.
“Hmm,” Tiernan hums, and as he does it, my imagination goes back to his bedroom this morning and how he hummed against my wet slit, telling me how sweet I tasted. The memory is so potent, I can’t stop the shudder that runs down my body because of it.
To my utter mortification, both Kelly brothers see my involuntary reaction.
“I bet if I made a bet today, I wouldn’t lose, would I, dheartháir?” Shay’s eyes unashamedly skate over my body, completely uncaring that his brother is sitting right beside me. “Yep. Your wife looks properly fucked. Good on ye,” he whispers low enough for only his brother to hear, but not low enough that I don’t catch every word of his taunt.
It’s a miracle that my eyes don’t pop out of my head in both shock and embarrassment. It’s only when Tiernan’s hand goes to my thigh and gives it a squeeze that I realize Father Doyle is about to begin his sermon.
Shay hides his chuckle by feigning a cough, but then leans his lips into my ear.
“Can’t say that I blame him. If I was in his shoes, I’d make sure to have deflowered you right after you said I do on that altar there. Joder. Tal vez incluso antes de eso.”
I swallow dryly before snapping my head to his side to offer him my most displeased glower. But to my amazement, Shay is looking straight ahead, seemingly enraptured by the sermon taking place. He’s acting like he didn’t just say he would have screwed me before I ever made it up the aisle if he had been in Tiernan’s position. He’s so committed to the fa?ade that it almost makes me question my sanity and wonder if what just happened was all in my head.
I know what I heard.
He did say those things to me.
Didn’t he?
It’s only when Shay lets out a little chuckle that I know I’m not losing my mind. I almost elbow the big jerk in his stomach, but as Tiernan’s grip on my thigh tightens, I’m forced to ignore his mischievous brother and pay attention to the service instead.
After a few minutes have passed, I start to relax and feel more at ease here.
I wasn’t lying when I told Tiernan that going to church gave me comfort. Ever since I was a little girl, I liked dressing up in my Sunday finest and listening to the word of God. Even when the sermon talked about how hell would be full of sinners, and I knew that sooner or later that meant my entire family would feel its hellish flames, it still gave me a small sense of comfort that justice would prevail in the end.
That every evil thing my father did, he would pay for it with his soul.
Especially when he would beat my ass raw with his belt for my insolence, it comforted me knowing there was a deity out there that would make sure he paid his due in the end. Of course, those were the thoughts of a child. As I grew into womanhood, it pained me when I understood that, like my father, demons would also feast on the flesh of my brothers for all the things they would end up doing as made men. Every day, I would get on my knees and pray every Hail Mary I could in the hopes it would save their souls from such an ending—Francesco most of all.
Just as I’m thinking this, it suddenly dawns on me that, as Tiernan’s wife, I should probably pray a few rosaries for his soul, too.
But can any prayer save the devil from returning to his rightful home?
Doubtful.
I’m still in my head, debating all these things, when I feel the weight of a pair of scrutinizing eyes land directly on me. Father Doyle begins to talk about Salome and how she enticed her mother’s husband, Herod, by dancing seductively for him, just so she and her mother, Herodias, could ask for the head of John the Baptist.
“Take cautions when dealing with these jezebels, for they will entice you with their silver tongue and sinful body to commit the worst crimes known to men. Be true to God, and cast such temptation out of your green pastures, for if it lingers, it will do no less than burn all your hard labors down to ash.”
The way he stares at me as he says it has me shuddering for a whole different reason.
I feel Tiernan’s body go instantly stiff, his grip on my thigh leaving a mark.
“Fucking hypocrite,” Shay utters through gritted teeth and then spits on the floor like it’s a sidewalk and not the Lord’s holy church.
But for the life of me, I can’t find it in myself to reprimand him for his outburst or the blasphemous action. Mostly because I believe the priest’s sermon had but one audience today. And that was me and my husband.