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8

CONOR

“Katina, you’ve got three, two—”

“On it, Conor!” she whispered in my ear.

With a hand, she motioned to Shay who, like always, was too fucking whipped to say no to her.

I got it though—these Sullivan women knew how to wrap you around their fingers.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Grandma?” Shay asked politely, the words winging over to me as the kitchen door swung inward.

“You’re such a good boy,” Ma praised.

“What are you up to, Kid?” Brennan asked, making me miss Ma’s next comment.

“Nothing.” My gaze drifted over his hand. “Who you been beating up this close to the holidays?”

“Never you mind.” He plunked his ass beside me as he shook his hand like it was still aching. “Doesn’t look as if you’re up to ‘nothing’ to me.” He glanced at the kitchen door. “Why’s Shay behaving all of a sudden when Dec and Aela have been bitching about how he’s refusing to do chores?”

I shrugged. “Kat asked him to help.”

“Ahh. You okay with Shay mooning over her?”

“Not like I have a choice now. Anyway, he’s appropriately terrified of Star so that’s something.”

Brennan tipped his bottle at me. “He’s kinda terrified of you too.”

“Nah, I’m on his side.”

“He’d probably disagree if he knew you were fucking with the Supreme Court and potentially thwarting his chances to be president.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” was my calm retort, even as I was waiting on the massive distraction that Kat promised to make.

“Sure you didn’t.” He snorted. “Know you better than I know myself, little brother. Don’t think you can hide anything from me.”

Aidan fell onto the sofa beside me. “You talking about the SCOTUS ruling?”

Brennan nodded while I just groaned. “Do you mind? I’m in the middle of something.”

Aidan peered at me. “You’re sitting on a sofa, watching a rerun of a game on Christmas Day, dipshit. What the hell are you in the middle of?”

“There’s something going down in the kitchen,” Brennan informed Aidan. “Dunno what though. He sent Shay in.”

“I did not send Shay in,” I hissed.

“He sent Kat in,” Brennan corrected. “And because the boy’s whipped, she sent him in.”

Aidan hummed as he drank from the whiskey tumbler Paddy topped off before heading off to fill another glass—he was the self-appointed bartender. With his illuminated Christmas sweater, he looked like an overgrown, drunken elf.

“Must be Ma-related,” Aidan reasoned. “You know how she is with Shay.”

Gaze locked on Camille, who was cuddling Cameron to her chest, Brennan agreed, “Boy can do no wrong in her eyes.”

“He’s a mini-you,” Declan jeered as he sat down on the coffee table in front of us. “Owe you for that SCOTUS ruling, Con. We don’t want any more kids, but knowing Aela was in danger?—”

Scowling, I interrupted him, “Look, I didn’t have anything to do with it!”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Finn ambled along and asked, “You guys talking about the SCOTUS?—?”

“Look, I’m busy!” I blurted out. “And if I want to have sex before next fucking Christmas, you fuckers need to fucking lay off.”

Eoghan turned away from the windows he’d been looking out of since he arrived and asked, “Why’s Star so obsessed with stuffing?”

As always when Eoghan was in the apartment, Ren and Stimpy were by his side and not with Kat.

They sat within three feet of him at all times, staring at him like he was a cat charmer.

We still didn’t know what that was about, but he’d grown used to it.

“She’s not obsessed with stuffing,” I defended hotly.

Finn shuddered at our youngest brother’s question. “Do we even want to know why she might be?”

Declan snorted. “Don’t think it’s the sex kind of stuffing, Finn. More like the shit Ma makes for the Christmas table.”

Aidan smirked. “You got something you want to tell us, Finn?”

“Fuck off,” he muttered, but his ears turned red.

Brennan hooted. “Is this a ‘you’ thing or an Aoife thing?”

He flipped them both the bird as he took a pull on his beer. “What’s wrong with Ma’s stuffing, Eoghan?”

“I never said there was anything wrong with Ma’s stuffing. I said Star’s obsessed with stuffing.”

“Shut your mouth, Eoghan,” I immediately retorted as I checked my watch.

Laughter exploded from the other side of the room, where Savannah, Star, and Jen were making motions with their hands.

Motions that were definitely of the obscene variety.

Which should be illegal considering Savannah was breastfeeding baby Third.

“Are they talking about sex?” I mused out loud.

Aidan groaned. “Not again. Please, Jesus.”

My lips twitched. “There’s a story there.”

He rubbed his temple. “Savannah’s family is so sex-positive, it’s insane.”

“Tell me about it—her mom gives Victoria sex toys!” Eoghan groused.

“I was there for that conversation,” Brennan muttered. “God help me.”

“At their Christmas Eve party last night, Lorelei was trying to convince me to choke Savannah.”

“Wow,” I sputtered. “Seriously?”

“Deadly. Said it made an orgasm more intense.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I apologize in advance for the Christmas presents to your wives from us. Savannah went shopping with Lorelei and…”

Declan chuckled. “Don’t apologize. Used it this morning.”

“That’s probably what they’re talking about,” I reasoned as Star, Jen, and Savannah started cackling again, this time with Gracie—our cousin Liam’s wife—who…

Ah, fuck.

Star disappeared.

“I think it’s time for ‘show and tell,’” Finn said with a chuckle.

Curious, I stated, “I wouldn’t mind knowing?—”

A huge crash sounded in the kitchen.

Realizing I’d been distracted and recognizing the reason for the crash, I jumped to my feet, bellowing, “What the hell is going on in there?”

Well aware my brothers were frowning at one another because I rarely, if ever, raised my voice, I ignored them as I strode into the kitchen and found?—

Fuck.

The Christmas tree.

My goddamn Christmas tree.

Decorations were everywhere. Tinsel on the kitchen counter. Ornaments smashed. The weeping angel on top had lost her halo and the presents beneath looked like they’d been driven over by a Mack truck.

I said to make a mess, but my Christmas tree?! With the special Aela decorations?

Goddammit!

And they said the road to hell was paved with good intentions, my ass.

Ma, in the middle of the chaos, was scowling at Katina. “What did you do, missy?”

“It was my fault, Grandma,” Shay blustered, diving in front of Ma, drawing suspicion his way. “I tripped over one of the gifts.”

Sliding behind them, I headed for the oven.

From the warming drawer, I withdrew the tray that Star made earlier and switched it out with the dish that was resting on the open glass door—the one Ma was about to put in to bake.

It took knowing far too much about how Ma prepared Christmas dinner to make this plan work.

Gaze darting around the kitchen, aware that Aela had waded in to referee the conversation between the two kids and Ma, I slipped into the utility room where I tucked the tray in the washing machine.

With that done, I retreated to the kitchen, asking, “Want me to put the stuffing in the oven, Ma?”

She froze, twisted to face me, then gasped. “I’ve been letting out all the heat!”

As she bustled over, I winked at Kat and Shay. Aela, misunderstanding, asked, “Conor, is something wrong with your eye?”

I shot her a pitiful look. “I think I’m getting conjunctivitis.”

She reared back, mumbling, “Then stay away from us. The last thing I need is Cameron catching it!”

Ma, clucking over the stuffing, closed the oven door and studied it through the glass.

“Everything okay, Ma?”

She harrumphed. “Don’t know what’s got into that girl of yours! I told her not to do that crazy gymnastics stuff in here.”

Annoyed, I folded my arms across my chest. “If she said she didn’t do it, then she didn’t.”

Ma gave me the side-eye. “Shay’s not clumsy.”

“Neither’s Kat.”

“If Shay decided to be clumsy to?—”

“Impress Kat?” I interrupted because Ma had been griping for a while about how Kat was leading him 'astray.' “What on earth would he do that for? I think I can safely say that the way to impress a girl, Ma, is not to bring down a Christmas tree!”

Not my Christmas tree, at any rate.

She huffed. “We’re lucky they didn’t ruin dinner!”

“Actually, we’re lucky they didn’t hurt themselves.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Different priorities, I guess.”

Ma just tutted and ignored me as I strolled away from her, suddenly feeling zero guilt about the stunt I pulled.

As I walked out of the kitchen, I found Star standing over by the tree in the living room, casually fiddling with an ornament as she talked to Aoife about sex toys, knowing her.

Ever so slightly, she tilted her head to the side, allowing her gaze to collide with mine.

Ever so slightly, I nodded.

But before I faded away to the other side of the room, I felt that same fucking boom as my heart clunked against my ribcage.

There was no other woman on this planet who could get to me like she could.

No woman who understood me.

Who knew how my mind worked.

Who fit .

And she was mine.

To this day, I wasn’t sure how that happened, but it had.

She wore my ring.

She called me her fiancé.

And one day, when her war was won, she’d call me her husband.

A grin quirked up the corner of my mouth, one that had her arching a brow at me.

She didn’t need to know what I’d do to call her my wife…

She’d learn that in time.

Leaving her to puzzle out the reason for my smile, one that had dick to do with stuffing, I moved over to the sofa in front of the TV. Victoria was part-watching some reality show, part-texting on her phone, and part-reading a book while supervising Niall, Cameron, and Jake, who were messing around with the toys they got this morning.

Snagging a hold of Niall, I grinned as he shrieked gleefully when I dangled him by his feet.

Eoghan sidled up to me, his cat entourage settling on either side of my feet in a move that’d have been threatening if they were pumas. “Why is there stuffing in the washer?”

“Why are you looking in my washer?”

Ren hissed at my sharp tone.

Traitor.

“I happened to see you pull a stuffing swap.” His eyes narrowed. “I won’t say a word…”

Hearing the threat, I groaned. “If?”

He smirked. “If…”