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“Jaxon.” He offers me his hand, and with his size, I instinctively expect the kind of handshake that makes my knuckles grind together. Instead, his grip is careful and surprisingly gentle. Conor murmurs, “A chroí,” beside him, and a faint blush moves across Jaxon’s cheeks.
Seeing a giant wall of muscle blush because of something Conor whispered to him is ridiculously sweet, but it also makes me look around the kitchen differently. I’ve seen most of these men at Murphy Enterprises, where they’re intimidating, controlled, and usually surrounded by employees who know better than to waste their time. Here, Liam has oatmeal on his shirt because a toddler attacked him, Conor can make Jaxon blush with two words, and Ronan is holding his son while Colton cleans breakfast off Ollie’s hands. I never would have guessed this side of Duncan’s family existed from seeing them at work.
Duncan and I take our seats and fill our plates. I have to say everything smells amazing and I am starving.
Kieran says something to Duncan in Irish from the other end of the table, and Duncan answers him without missing a beat. I listen while they go back and forth, trying to pick out something familiar enough to tell me what the hell they’re talking about.
Beside Ronan, Colton shifts in his chair. Ronan glances at him, then looks across the table at his father. “Dad, knock it off.”
Kieran stops talking and raises his eyebrows. “What?”
“You know what.”
Duncan looks from Ronan to Colton, and whatever he sees makes a smile pull at his mouth. Colton notices and closes his eyes with a quiet groan. “Please don’t.”
I glance around the table. Alessia is trying not to smile, Xavier has suddenly become very interested in the exchange, and Declan looks like he’s waiting to see how long Ronan can hold out before he gets pissed.
Ronan catches the look on Duncan’s face. “You too.”
“I haven’t done anything,” Duncan says.
“You were speaking Irish.”
“I speak Irish all the time.”
“Not around Colton, you don’t.”
Colton’s face is getting redder by the second. I set my fork down and look between all of them. “What the hell am I missing?”
“Nothing you need to know,” Colton mutters as he leans into Ronan.
Ronan wraps an arm around him and gives Kieran another look. “You know what happens when you two start doing that.”
“I was talking to my brother.”
“In Irish.” Ronan grits out.
“We’re Irish, Ronan.”
Ronan stares at his father for a few seconds before shaking his head. “And now you’re doing it on purpose.”
Duncan laughs, and Colton drops his forehead against Ronan’s shoulder. Between his red face, Ronan’s irritation, and the fact that everyone else seems to find this perfectly normal, I finally put it together.
Xavier laughs so hard he has tears in his eyes. “Colton really likes it when they use Irish. I’m talking, really likes it.” He waggles his eyebrows at me.
“Ronan didn’t speak English for almost a week at one point,” Liam says.
“Oh, fuck.” I look at Colton. “The Irish turns you on.”
Colton lifts his head and parrots me. “Oh, fuck. I was just starting to like you.”
I laugh and reach for my drink while Ronan pulls him closer. Kieran’s mouth twitches before he says something else to Duncan in Irish, clearly unable to leave it alone.
“Dad,” Ronan warns.
Kieran switches back to English, but the smile on his face doesn’t go anywhere. Duncan manages to wait all of a few seconds before answering him in Irish.
Ronan turns his glare on Duncan. “Uncle Duncan, should I check your credit cards again?”
