His dark brown eyebrows shoot up then lower dramatically as his brown eyes narrow.
“Something I should worry about?”
“Not yet,” I tell him honestly, then decide what the hell, let’s go with full honesty. “I’ve got someone new staying atthe house, so Nan won’t be able to come over for the next few... months,” I settle on. It’s at least going to take a few months, I think.
“Someone?” he asks with meaning.
“Yes, someone.” The lowering of my voice is enough to get him to back off. He only offers me a nod, so I walk past him and into the foyer. I should’ve fucking asked him where everyone is, and who’s here too.
I don’t really feel like bleaching my eyeballs, so I’m not going to go looking for Harrison in his and Tristan’s room, but I can go looking in Nan’s. I walk deeper into the house. The back staircase is the fastest way to her floor, but I see light from a television coming through the half-open door of the family living room, so I stop there and open it wider.
“A full house.” I snicker at the way all three of them jump up. “Nice to know I still have my touch,” I say, keeping my good mood for as long as I can—I have no clue how Nan’s going to react to this, she loves our Saturday dinners.
“What are you doing here?” Harrison asks with a smile as he stands from his spot in the corner of the plush couch. Tristan pauses whatever they were watching and stands too.
I give Harry a hug, then pat Tristan on the shoulder before leaning down to kiss Nan’s cheek.
“I need to talk to Nan about tomorrow.”
“Is something wrong? Do you need to cancel, lad?” Her lovely Irish lilt brings back memories of how Da sounded, but I can’t bask in it this time. I think about asking to speak with her alone, but then again, I have no reason to keep this from Harry and Tristan, not really.
“I’m sorry to say I do, Nan.”
“We can go if?—”
“No, no,” I interrupt Tristan and gesture for them to sit, and after they do, I take the spot next to Nan. “There’s this man. He’s uh, staying with us.” I pause to suck in a fortifying breath then look into her warm eyes and hope she’ll understand. “He’s going to recognize you and know who you are—whose mother you are—as soon as he sees you. He’s in danger and has a daughter.” I try to think of how else to explain all of this without having to actually tell them any of the details, but I should’ve known I don’t need to do that with Nan.
“It’s a good thing you’re protecting them, my boy.” There’s disappointment in her eyes, but also understanding.
“We need him to help with a situation,” I hedge, but then... well, they should know. “Things are heating up.” I look at Harry then, knowing he’ll understand what that means.
“I’ll make sure there’s a chartered jet ready for Bran and Nan in case it’s necessary.” The details man, my cousin always comes through. He’s always prepared.
“I appreciate that.” I nod once, and I’m thinking this has all gone pretty well, but then I see Tris’s calculating expression. The way his head tilts to the side tells me he’s using that impressive brain of his to read between the lines.
Not the lines I thought, though.
“This man. How come he can help you with whatever’s happening?”
I blow out a breath and look to the side. I thought he’d focus on the “heating up” part of my announcement.
If that kiss is any indication, if Colby’s reactions to my world and the curveballs it throws us are anything to go by... then these three are going to meet him eventually, aren’t they?
What’s the point in stalling?
They can get used to the idea of Colby this way, and by the time he actually meets them and I tell him my biggest secret, they’ll be ready to be welcoming.
“He’s an investigative journalist—” They all gasp, appalled, at the same time. “Wasan investigative journalist... was,” I stress so they’ll calm down.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Eian,” Harry grumbles, and Nan is so shocked she doesn’t even scold him. “Are you trying to go to jail?” my cousin demands, and he sounds angrier than I’ve heard him in years. Tristan wraps a hand aroundhis bicep, and I’m not sure if it’s to calm him down or to support himself.
“Look.” I stand and begin to pace, because I’m not going to be able to get through this if I have to look at every little emotion that passes over their faces. “Colby’s smart, he?—”
“Colby Major?” Tristan asks, voice closer to a screech than his normal controlled baritone.
“Yes, that’s him, and I know?—”
“He’s the one who blew the whistle on that insurance pyramid scheme—what, a year and a half ago?” He directs the question at Harry who mumbles an agreement, but I just keep pacing because I can’t lose my shit at him for interrupting.
