“She’s not—” I cut them off, ears burning.
They’re all staring at me.
Mum touches my arm gently. “Is she nice, darling? Is she Irish?”
Trace and I exchange a look because we’re not entirely sure what she is. Other than being a little delusional and talking to her plants. Something I’m thinking I shouldn’t bring up right now.
I picture Fallon cross-legged on the counter, deep in anargument with Basil over a tomato plant he’s convinced can’t be trusted.
“She’s…different,” I hedge, my chest twisting.
“Different how?” Shea demands. “We’re all different. Me, Darcy, Ava, Lennox, Raina,” she ticks off all the Quinlan wives. “Define different.”
“She talks to her plants,” I blurt, since I’m being pushed for details.
Right now, it’s all I have on Fallon. We just started spending time together.
Silence blares in a flat of five people.
Dad blinks. “Like…metaphorically?”
“No,” I mutter, and tear off another piece of bagel with my teeth.
“There’s nothing wrong with speaking love to your plants,” Mum says serenely. “Eccentrics make the best lovers.”
Trace barks a laugh, and I choke on the bagel. At least Mum sounds excited that she might have something in common with Fallon.
I need a drink…“Pass me one of those orange juice contraptions.”
Shea rests her chin on her hand. “Are you bringing her to Thanksgiving?”
“No,” I say automatically, not thinking anything of it.
“Why not?” Trace claps back immediately.
I look up to see that every face has swiveled in my direction. “Because?—”
“Because what?” Shea cuts in. “You can’t hide her forever.”
I glare at my plate.
If I sayshe’s not really my girlfriendthat I’m just pretending becauseshe witnessed me committing murder and this is blackmail-adjacent damage control,my mum will have a stroke.
I don’t think my mother fully understands what I do, hence the letter she wrote asking all kinds of intrusive questions a couple of years ago. Dad wasn’t a capo like Uncle Aiden. Mum just loves seeing Trace in his suits, thinks he’s some Security Director, and that Quinlan Empire is a Fortune 500 company.
And I’m just one of my brother’s guards.
It’s best she doesn’t know the sins I commit and the darkness that occupies my soul to do this job. Or the money Griffin’s lawyer Kai Powers deposits in my account every month. Money I may never live to spend.
I don’t want Mum to worry, so I give in.
“Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll bring her.”
“Excellent,” Mum declares, beaming. “I’ll make an extra turkey.”
I spend the rest of brunch worrying about putting Fallon in the spotlight in front of my family. But at least I get to do it over a flawless New York bagel and fresh cream cheese.
Hours later, I knock on Fallon’s door. She answers with her usual smile and a warm hug against my chest.
