Dad stares at Robert’s hand like it’s on fire, and instead of taking it and shaking like a fucking grownup, he grunts. Taranis smirks.
Balls of steel or not, I’m about two seconds from fake-coughing “alpha showdown” just to break the tension.
Changing tactic, Robert gives Mum a warm smile. “Mrs. Morrigan, you have a lovely home. Thanks for letting me come to dinner.” He offers her the bag.
“You brought truffles?” Clíodhna is impressed. “Bold move. Mum loves anyone who brings food. Rhiannon once brought a boy who forgot dessert—he never stood a chance.”
“Clíodhna,” I groan.
“What? I’m helping.”
Robert smiles. “If I’d known you were a fan of plants, I’dhave brought you a few cuttings from the house.” Of course he’s clocked the fauna on the way into the house.
“Maybe next time.” He glances at the counter where Mum’s laid out a plate of buns. Before Sunday dinner? She’s clearly trying to impress. “Are those fifteens? Haven’t had them since school.”
Her face brightens. “You like them?”
“Like them?” His smile grows. “If you’re trying to win me over, you’ve already done it. Bribery with marshmallows always works.”
“I’ll remember that,” she says, smiling properly now. “Tea? Or are you one of those coffee people?”
“Depends,” Robert says, lips twitching. “Is this builder’s tea or the fancy herbal shite that tastes like regret?”
She snorts, delighted despite herself. “Strong enough to put hair on your chest.”
“Then aye, I’ll have a mug.” He nods toward the window. “You’ve a good hand with plants too, by the looks of it—are those shamrocks?”
He hooks a thumb toward a pot near the window. “I don’t mean to overstep.” He flicks a cautious glimpse at my father and brother who are still somehow both ignoring Robert and keeping an eye on him. “But that purple shamrock’s a beauty. They’re surprisingly sensitive, though.”
He strides across the kitchen, putting his fingers under the triangular leaves. I have to hand it to him, he’s playing it so cool I’m not sure my family quite know what to do. “She’s going a bit limp.” He turns back to Mum. “I think she might be too warm here. Somewhere cooler and a smidge more shaded will perk her right back up.”
Mum crosses the room to him, lips pursed. “I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it. I thought they liked heat.” She moves to lift it, but Robert gets there first.
He nods. “In moderation. But toomuch heat stresses it out. And she looks a little on the dry side, too.” He turns toward the door. “Where am I taking it?”
Mum points toward the sitting room. “You’re into plants?” The surprise in her voice is obvious as she follows behind him.
The rest of us stay quiet, eyeing each other in the silence. Dad has a face like thunder. The more Robert talks to Mum, the more Dad hates it. Aoife’s lips are rolled together, telling me she’s fucking living for it. I am too.
I wasn’t sure he had the spine for it, and maybe part of me brought him so my family could break him a little. I huff out a sigh. I’m not proud of it, but if he crumbled under the weight of the Morrigan name, I’d be disappointed.
“I am into plants. I can give you a couple of recommendations that will survive better in the kitchen if you’d like. I mean, assuming you don’t want to grow herbs like basil or thyme.”
Mum laughs, but I’m not sure why. “Over there, do you think?”
Robert hums. “I think it would be better here.”
There’s a scrape of furniture, a long beat of silence, and someone—probably Mum—claps their hands together.
“Perfect,” Mum says. “What would you suggest for the kitchen?” Her voice sounds light, but she’s testing him. I let out a sigh. She doesn’t trust him either, and for some reason, seems to think Robert is lying about being a plant person.
Like, who the fuck lies about being into plants?
Robert hums again. I don’t know if it’s a conscious sound or if it’s just the sound his brain makes when it’s ticking over. “I think eitherAsplenium nidus, Bird’s Nest Fern, orZamioculcas zamiifolia, the ZZ plant.”
I don’t know why there’s a lick of heat low in my belly over my fake boyfriend getting hoity toity and nerding out on plants in my family home, but here we are.
They both reenter the kitchen, and Robert dusts off his pants. “Bird’s Nest Fern likes the heat and humidity. It’s good for kitchens or bathrooms. And ZZ is like the tank of the plant world. You could forget about her for a month, and she’d still be fine. She’s practically indestructible, doesn’t care about light or temperature shifts.”
