Taking one last look around the room for porn or used tissues, Miki nearly jumped out of his skin when Brigid came out of the kitchen and looked up at him. Nervously peering around her, he spotted Kane talking on his cell phone. The man’s broad back was facing the living room, and Miki tried clearing his throat to catch Kane’s attention, but the cop was too engrossed in his call.
“Hi!” Miki tried for a welcoming grin, but it felt more like a terrified grimace creeping his cheeks up into his earlobes. “Um, I set the… table. Sorta.”
He’d never planned for guests. Hell, he’d never imagined anyone but Dude ever crossing the threshold. Now Kane was practically living in his armpit, and a scarlet-haired dervish appeared on his doorstep. If he had a dining room table, it was packed up tight under cellophane wrap and plastic ties along with the rest of the furniture the interior designer had picked out for him. He had no idea where to go looking for the table, even if he knew for sure he had something to eat off of at all.
From the looks of her, she’d also want the matching chairs. The best Miki could offer her were that his plates were all the same size. Mostly.
“It looks lovely, Mick love.” The smile she gave him was worthy of a Pulitzer instead of just for folding a few paper napkins and arranging the utensils together. Touching his arm, Brigid moved around Miki and sat down on the couch, then patted the seat next to her. “Come. Sit down. It’s a bit of time before dinner. The cabbage rolls got too cold on the way over here. Spend some time with me. Yer liking cabbage, aren’t ye?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure,” he mumbled. After staring at the cushion for a moment, he shuffled over and sat down at the end of the couch, sucking at his teeth. Searching for something to say, he nodded. “Cabbage is great.”
Brigid shifted closer, and Miki eyed her suspiciously. On the surface, she looked like the type of woman they’d cast as the warm-voiced mother on some drama where one of her kids caught a tragic disease. Then she spent the next couple of hours tracking through the jungles, looking for the one plant in the world that could cure him.
While wearing those heels. And flipping blueberry pancakes. And slinging an Uzi across her shoulder to fight off a horde of pirates.
And smiling in that crazy, happy way she was smiling at Miki because he put a couple of napkins and forks down on the table.
“Get off the fucking phone, Kane,” he muttered under his breath, hoping Brigid couldn’t hear him. Briefly wondering if he could fall off the couch and knock himself unconscious, Miki returned Brigid’s smile, then shifted his gaze back to Kane’s broad shoulders. That’s when he noticed the crazy left Brigid’s smile only to be replaced with something softer he didn’t recognize.
“Yer nervous,” she said, nodding. “I didn’t think you’d be nervous. Connor said yer a music star. My littlest’s got ye on her wall. I guess I got too used to seeing ye and yer boys screaming at me when I went in to put away laundry. It’s like I almost know ye.”
“Oh God, fucking hell,” Miki exclaimed, burying his face in his hands. He tried to stand, wobbling when his right knee refused to do more than throb while his left knee worked fine. Miki made a grab at the table to steady himself. “Jesus, I have no fucking clue here. Sorry, I kept telling Kane… I’m no good with the whole… family thing. I mean, thanks for coming over but….”
“Yer younger than I thought ye’d be,” Brigid replied softly. Her hands lifted up and eased Miki back down onto the couch. “Not much more than a boy, aren’t ye? It’s okay to be nervous. From what Kane’s said, it doesn’t seem like ye’ve had much of a good run with family.”
Sitting next to him, she seemed smaller, more like a hummingbird, with her generous cleavage and delicate features. He could see a hint of Kane in her face. It was there in her mouth and the slant of her eyes. He laughed like she smiled, throwing his full heart into it, and Miki wondered how the hell the world was big enough to hold an entire clan of Morgans’ passion and mirth.
She studied him with those large, too-green eyes, and Miki felt peeled open for her to pick through his bones and thoughts. He wanted to call out to Kane, but the man’s damned phone rang again, a brisk, sex-inspired tune Miki half remembered. Sighing, Miki consigned himself to Brigid’s interrogation
“How old are ye, Miki?” she asked softly. “Ye don’t look much older than my Riley, but ye’ve got a sweet face so it is hard to tell.”
“Um, maybe twenty-five? Twenty-six? Don’t really know.” Struggling to find his footing, he studied his nails for a moment. “Which one’s Riley? Shit… you’ve got a lot of kids. How the hell do you keep them straight?”
“Well, there’s enough so I’d be fine killing off a few of them when they make me mad,” she teased.