His dad was tall and heavy, his mother light-featured. His older brother looked like a wickedly handsome villain, and his sister, in contrast, a perfectly demure Snow White. Unlike her two brothers, Aisling’s hair wasn’t fair. It was raven black, but that only highlighted her sparkling bluebell eyes. They were all impeccably dressed, and save for Aisling, all looked to be in different levels of a sour mood.
I stiffened at the sight of them approaching us. I considered turning around and fleeing. Hunter must’ve sensed that, because out of nowhere, his hand found the small of my back. It barely fluttered around the area, but still supported me, somehow.
“Deep breath,” he whispered, his voice calm. “Remember, they’re just people. They breathe. They eat. They fart—loudly, sometimes—and to answer your question, yes, Cillian and I French kiss all the time, and he uses an excessive amount of tongue.”
Now it was my turn to stifle a giggle.
When Hunter’s family stopped in front of us, Hunter made a round of introductions, even though we’d already met.
“Sailor, this is my father, Gerald.” He motioned to his dad.
I shook his firm, dry hand. “Pleasure to meet you again.” I tried to muster a genuine smile.
“Jury’s still out on whether I can say the same about you,” his father grumbled, winning a warning elbow from his wife. “How has my son been thus far? Better than he was at work, I hope.”
“Impeccably behaved,” I shot back, as the pressure from Hunter’s hand on my back grew. It was the truth. He was on the straight and narrow in the rare times I’d seen him.
“Nice to see you again.” Jane clasped my hand in both of hers, smiling tiredly. She always looked sad. “Thank you so much for doing this.”
“Mom,” Hunter groaned.
I laughed. “It is entirely my pleasure, Mrs. Fitzpatrick.”
When Cillian clasped his callused hand around mine, I looked up and my heart missed a beat. His beauty was as cruel as his expression. I didn’t remember ever seeing someone so brutally indifferent, my own father included. For all his sociopathic tendencies, Troy Brennan adored my mom, Sam, and me. Cillian Fitzpatrick looked like nothing could get to him, tanks and bombs included.
“Miss Brennan, what have you gotten yourself into?” he sneered, baring his perfect teeth.
I gathered he had very little faith in this arrangement. Refraining from kicking his balls in public, and feeling the reassuring pressure of Hunter’s palm, I grinned. “Are you asking or insinuating something?”
He chuckled, like I was an adorable toddler repeating a bad word. “She answers. Nice touch. You’re already exhibiting more personality than my brother has shown in his entire nineteen years.”
“She has more personality than you can find in all your European-heiress flings combined,” Hunter countered. “And being a dick doesn’t count for personality. It’s a muscle. So technically, you’re a meathead.”
“Hunter! Cillian!” Their mother gasped, but there was no real force or authority in her voice.
My mom used to chase Sam and me down the park when we misbehaved, and we still had a step in the penthouse we couldn’t look at because it reminded us of the lengthy timeouts we’d spent on it as a naughty spot. She loved us endlessly, but when she chided, we listened. I noticed that Gerald watched this exchange with a suppressed smile, like he was enjoying the turn of events.
The last person I was introduced to was Aisling, whom I kind of remembered anyway. She seemed like the only nice person in their clan when I was a kid.
“Hi.” I thrust my hand in her direction. “I’m Sailor.”
“I know.” She blushed, looking down and taking my hand. “You’re friends with the Penrose sisters, right?”
“Right!” I could feel my eyes lighting up. “They’re here with me, actually. Do you know them?”
I knew Aisling was a year younger than me, seventeen. She went to a private school outside the city. Word around Boston was that the Fitzpatrick couple had really wanted a girl after Cillian, and when Hunter was born, his mother tried to conceive as soon as she could to get her precious daughter.
Aisling bowed her head shyly. “Kind of. I know the three of you helped shovel snow from the entrances of that senior housing complex last winter and saved someone’s life. It was all over the local news. I thought it was really cool.” She turned completely scarlet.
I could feel Hunter’s gaze darting to me in surprise.
“You did that?” he asked.
“Some people give back to the community, ceann beag, believe it or not,” said Gerald.
The men in Hunter’s family were really starting to grate on my nerves.
“You can hang out with us, if you want,” I offered to Aisling, who took the opportunity to look me in the eye for the first time. She touched her cheek.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to butt into your evening…”