Finn hands Brax a crystal tumbler of whiskey.
Brenna toasts, "Welcome to the family, Valentina." She holds her glass out, then nudges Finn.
He raises his glass and mumbles, "Welcome."
Brax tugs me closer.
My pulse ticks higher. I clear my throat. "Thank you. And for having us for dinner."
"Anytime," she states.
We click glasses, and the smooth, full-bodied, rich with berries and oak slides down my throat. I comment, "This is delicious."
"It's from a wine tour the girls and I took last year. Should we sit?" she asks.
"Yes," Brax replies and leads me to the couch. We settle in, and he puts his hand on my thigh.
Brenna takes a sip, then inquires, "So how did you two meet?"
My anxiety flares.
Brax answers, "Through friends."
"Oh? Who?" she asks.
It makes my nerves oscillate faster. I look at him, feeling ill.
He lies, "Kirill and Fiona."
Finn shifts on his seat.
"Ah. I see," she replies and takes another sip. Before any more interrogation can begin, she stands. "Okay, stay there. Finn, help me bring everything out."
He grunts something that might be an agreement. They disappear into the kitchen.
I exhale, leaning closer to Brax. "I'm going to combust."
"You're doing great."
"Finn looks like he wants to skin me alive."
"He doesn't do that to women," Brax deadpans.
My eyes widen.
He chuckles, then presses a kiss to my temple. "Relax. Brenna already likes you."
"How do you know that?"
"She didn't sling wine on you."
"She does that?"
He grins. "Only when it's warranted. Welcome to the O'Malleys."
Brenna returns carrying a large platter. The rich pomegranate glaze, savory lamb, and caramelized aromatics drift through the air.
Finn follows with the sides.
