“Shane is overreacting, like always.” Dillon throws an annoyed look at his brother. “I would’ve come with the others if I wasn’t sober enough to drive. I’m not completely reckless.”
A guy with reddish-brown hair snorts as he stretches across the table to grab a piece of bread from the wicker basket in the center.
Sadness washes over Cath’s finely lined face as she grabs Dillon’s cheeks. “Promise me you’ll be more careful. Please, Dillon. If anything happened to you, it’d kill us all.”
Dillon lowers his arms, reeling his mom into a bear hug. He holds her tight, closing his eyes momentarily. “Ma. There’s nothing to worry about. Shane just loves stirring shit.”
It didn’t sound like that to me. It seemed like his brother is genuinely concerned. From the way Dillon took that corner earlier, I’d say his brother’s fears are well-founded.
Dillon presses a kiss to the top of his mom’s head while she wraps her arms around him. Her head only reaches the bottom of his chest, and she looks so small and thin circled in his strong arms.
“And you love swanning around town pretending you’re god’s gift to women,” Shane retorts, smirking and flipping him the bird behind their mother’s back.
“There’s zero pretending involved,” Dillon smugly replies as his mom shucks out of their embrace.
“You just need the love of a good woman, Dillon,” Shane says, snaking his arm around his fiancée as she leans over him to set some bowls down on the table. Shane pulls Fiona into him for a quick kiss, and it’s a sweet gesture.
“Love is for pussies,” Dillon replies.
Cath messes up Dillon’s hair, shaking her head and fighting a smile. “Language, Dillon. You’d swear you were dragged up in a brothel.”
“You should’ve washed his mouth out with soap more often, Ma,” Shane quips.
“Feel like running off screaming yet?” Ro asks, coming up on the other side of me. He casually slings his arm around my shoulders.
“It’s fifty-fifty,” I tease, watching Dillon’s eyes narrow on Ronan’s arm.
“Who’s that?” a girlish voice asks, and I whip around, grateful when Ro’s arm naturally falls off my body.
“This is my friend, Vi—Grace,” Ash says, quickly recovering. “Sorry,” she mouths, cradling her cute three-year-old niece in her arms.
“Hi, Chloe.” I raise my hand for a high-five, and she slaps my palm enthusiastically with her tiny one.
“You speak funny.” She eyes me like I’m an alien species she’d love to examine.
“Grace is from America,” Ash explains.
Chloe’s eyes pop wide. “You’re from Disneyland?” she squeals, almost jumping out of Ash’s arms. “I’m going to Disneyland after my mommy and daddy marry. On our moonhoney.”
Laughter reverberates around the room. “It’s honeymoon, little munchkin,” Shane says, standing and coming around the table. He lifts his daughter from Ash’s arms. “And Disneyland is only one tiny, tiny part of America.” Shane hoists her onto one hip, pinning me with a smile. “I’m Shane. Nice to meet ya, Grace.”
Ash introduces me to the others then. The guy with the reddish-brown hair is her other brother Ciarán. He works for Microsoft as an IT programmer. The pretty brunette sitting beside him is his long-term girlfriend Susie. She’s a local hairdresser. She talks so fast I struggle to understand a word she says, but she’s smiley and pleasant and welcoming. Ash’s dad Eugene gives me a firm handshake, before returning to his paper. Ash giggles, mouthing “I told you” as she deposits big bowls heaving with meat and vegetables in the center of the table.
“Now we all know one another, let’s sit.” Cath ushers everyone to the table.
“You can sit beside me,” Ronan says, pulling out a chair for me.
Ash rolls her eyes. “Knock it off, Casanova. Grace is my friend, so she’s sitting beside me.”
“This is like being back at school,” Shane says. “Why aren’t you staking your claim, Dil?”
“Shut up, Shane,” Dillon replies, slathering lashings of butter on a piece of brown bread. “That’s enough shit stirring for one day.”
“Boys. I won’t tolerate this at the dinner table,” Cath says, her stern gaze bouncing between both her sons. “Zip it. Now.”
“You heard your mother,” Eugene says, reluctantly setting his paper aside.