“Where will you stay?” Taryn asks him softly. Her hand trembles in mine. I’m not sure I like this side of her. This quiet, shell-shocked version of the fiery beauty I’ve come to know. It’s unsettling.
“I’m only on campus a couple days a week to finish up my degree,” Rowan explains. He inherited his leadership position in the middle of his senior year at St. A’s. Honestly, I have no idea how he’s managing it all. “I’ll take your empty room until the semester ends, for the nights I have to stay on campus.”
“Oh! Wait! Stephanie…” Taryn’s eyes widen in alarm as she considers her roommate.
“Steph is well aware. I spoke to her this afternoon. She helped pack up your things along with Gráinne and Elizabeth.” Rowan looks at his phone. “Our guys should be moving your stuff into my old townhouse right about now. My shit was dropped off at Taryn’s old place earlier.” In fact, he fires off a text to check on things as he thinks about it.
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “You’re really moving into that place?” I shake my head, a laugh rumbling in my chest. “Hope you like living inside a fever dream, Rowan. You know that living room looks like a rainbow threw up and died on a pile of crushed green velvet.”
Taryn glares at me, arms crossing like I insulted her personally. “It’s called eclectic maximalism.”
“It’s called ugly as sin,” I shoot back, smirking. I’m just delighted to see her have a reaction outside of being catatonic. “Wait until you see the Pepto-pink kitchen walls. Might have to buy you a pair of sunglasses just to survive breakfast.”
Rowan doesn’t bite. Instead, he shrugs, a slow, secretive smile tugging at his mouth. “I don’t mind. I like the scenery.”
I squint at him, catching that edge in his voice. “Scenery?”
He grins wider, all mysterious-like, and sips his whiskey. Given his expression, I decide it’s best not to touch this one. I have enough going on in my own life at the moment.
“Liam.” My father’s deep voice booms across the table, causing my mother to slap his chest. She whispers something in his ear and he lowers his volume a bit. “Your mother and I would like you and Taryn to visit. Come to the house this weekend.”
This weekend? Like in a couple days?
“Or next,” my mother says, giving her husband the side eye. “We thought it would be nice for Taryn to see where you grew up. Spend time together as a family.”
Ah. My mother wants to get to know her new daughter-in-law. That was my father’s half-ass attempt at extending the invitation on her behalf. By the look on my mother’s face, he didn’t do a terrific job.
“Of course, Mom.” I nod slowly. “But I’m sure Taryn is going to want to help plan the reception. The next few weeks might be hard.” I have no idea if that’s true, but she should have a say in how things run. If she wants a say, that is. By her distant expression, I’m not sure she cares.
“Oh! Yes! Right!” My mom’s hand flies to her chest. “You’ll obviously be too busy!”
“I’d love to see your home, Mrs. McGuiness.” Taryn’s voice is strong. Kind. I swear, my mother swoons. Whether she knows it or not, my new wife just scored major points with my mother, and by extension, my father. The old man actually smiles. I put my arm around the back of my wife’s chair.
“Maybe the kids could honeymoon in Chicago?” Taryn’s mother offers.
Honeymoon? I almost snort. Taryn blanches. God bless our mothers. They are trying to act as if this is a normal marriage. Not to mention, we will be living there after graduation. Not sure if that’s dawned on my in-laws yet.
My mom and mother-in-law continue to prattle on throughout the rest of dinner, which tells me how excited they are about this reception. It’s as if a switch was flipped once the paperwork was signed and we’re expected to miraculously adjust to this new reality. We’ve heard about my mother’s wedding. How her mother-in-law meddled in everything. How she won’t do that with this reception. But, oh, she does have just a few suggestions. All for Taryn’s consideration, of course. And, Taryn’s mother is delighted by the ideas. And, she has a few thoughts of her own, don’t ya know. I notice that she doesn’t offer them “for consideration.” Hell, I didn’t even know wedding favors were a thing, but apparently, Mrs. Walsh knows the perfect gifts for us to give to everyone who comes to this party.
My mother jumps in with advice on where we might find the perfect ribbons, which leads her to wonder if we ought to do the traditional hand-fasting ceremony at the reception. It’s when she finally takes a breath that my father steps in. “Mo ghrá, you haven’t touched your dinner.”
My mother looks at her plate and blushes. “Oh. Oh my. I’ve been going on and on. I’m so sorry, Taryn. I promise you, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.” Then, she mumbles as if to herself, “I promised myself I wouldn’t do that.”
“No, not at all,” Taryn assures her. “I’ve enjoyed talking with you.”Talking.I chuckle because she hasn’t gotten a word in edgewise.
“Well, I have some thoughts on the food for the reception,” Brendan, my youngest brother, weighs in, “but otherwise, nah. I don’t have anything to contribute.” At my cocked eyebrow, he continues. “What? Mom didn’t want to monopolize the conversation. I’m contributing!”
Taryn laughs at this while I shake my head. I want to lean over and kiss my brother for making her laugh. At the same time, I can’t help but wonder if a full-blown freak-out is coming later.
“I’d love to come to Chicago soon, though,” my bride volunteers. “I’d like to apply to the University of Chicago’s law program.”
The entire table quiets. It’s as if someone has a remote control and just pressed mute. I straighten. Holy. Shit. That was a ballsy move, and goddammit, I’m getting turned on by it. I don’t know why, but I absolutely love the backbone on this girl. I’m glad to see it’s returning. I move my arm from her chair back to wrap around her shoulders. I give her a squeeze.That’s right, beauty, tell ’em how it is.
“You’re interested in the University of Chicago’s law program?” my father repeats. His voice is gruff, and there go my thoughts of how well things have been going.
Taryn glances at me before nodding. “Yes. I’d like to see the school before I submit my application.”
My father sighs. “Is that so?”
