More than twenty pounds of potatoes cascaded over their heads, dirt and little wiggly roots that had fallen loose alongside them.
“What the fuck?!” Aidan roared, spluttering as he choked on potato dust, ducking left and right to avoid the fallout.
“Jesus Christ,” Brennan snarled, whipping around to evade the projectiles, but gravity wouldn’t be stopped.
Even as the brothers rolled out of the way, they landed on the potatoes.
Now that my container was empty, I ignored their yelps and barked, “Have you two quite finished?! Roman is taking a goddamn nap, and if you woke him up, I’ll hurl my crisper at you!”
They both stared up at me, filthy in the most literal ways, potatoes on their chests and between their legs, pooling around their shoulders. Smudges on their faces, dust in their expensive suits.Dirt in their hair and spattered around them like a farmer had outlined their bodies instead of the police with chalk.
When they continued staring at me, I stacked my hands on my hips. “You do not fight in my kitchen. Do you know how long it took me to find a damn table I liked? And my miniatures!”
Aidan and Brennan ceased gawking at me to glance at one another and, as if the fight were a fever dream, began to roar with laughter.
Aidan slapped Brennan’s chest in time to his wheezing chuckles, and my husband, well, heguffawed.
I didn’t even know Brennan could make that noise.
It was my turn to gape at them as they laughed themselves hoarse. I’d never seen two of the city’s most brutal men look this damn young.
“Blyad,” I muttered when it carried on and on. I even ended up plunking myself onto one of the chairs that had screeched across the floor during their fight.
Eventually, the pair of them gasped for breath but stopped with the hyena act.
“You married Ma,” Aidan joked.“All she needed was a rolling pin?—”
“I know,” Brennan wheezed.
“I am here?”
Aidan’s head tipped backward to find me. “Sorry, Camille.”
I sniffed. “I’d accept your apology if my kitchen weren’t a damn mess.”
Aidan punched Brennan’s arm—but in a friendly way. God help me for knowing the difference. These damn brothers were going to turn me gray! “Come on, let’s clear this up before she brings out the rolling pin for real.”
Brennan, like the frickin’ ninja he was, did this weird jump/leap and landed on his feet. For a big man, the stunts he could pull always boggled my mind. Either hewasa part-time ninja or just part cat.
Brennan yanked Aidan to his feet, taunting, “Come on, old man.”
Aidan flipped him the bird, but they both surprised me…
Neither of these men had so much as lifted a broom or a mop in decades. I wasn’t even sure Brennan knew we had them, but he proved me wrong.
Within minutes, the pair of them were sweeping up the mess they’d made.
“Remember the last time we did this?” Aidan asked with a laugh.
“When Da threw a fucking fit about Eoghan enlisting,” Brennan said wryly. To me, he clarified, “Eoghan was supposed to be one of us.”
“I thought Sr. was proud of him?”
“Oh, he was. Eventually. And he definitely appreciated the skills Eoghan picked up on Uncle Sam’s dime, but first, he threwEoghan into Ma’s dresser.” Brennan shot me an apologetic look. “I’m glad we didn’t bust any of your miniatures, honey. I’m sorry about the mess.”
“Apology only accepted if you promise not to fight in my damn home again.”
He raised his hands in surrender, broom included.“Promise.”
