Page 12 of The Love Destroyers

“Water,” I say, lifting my eyebrows.

She laughs. “You like holding out on me, huh?”

“Whenever possible, I like holding out on everyone,” I reply. “The same way you enjoy shocking people. I’m guessing that’s why you’re wearing white to a wedding. Dick move, though, even if you cleared it with her.”

She gives me an approving grin. “Look at you, standing up for our sister-in-law.”

I roll my eyes.

“Will you tell me one thing?”

I tip my head toward her, wondering why she’s continuing this conversation. We barely know each other. “What’s that?”

“Why’d you let that old guy fuck you over?”

Rage fills my gut like a bonfire—a bonfire floating on top of liquid magma. I’m going todestroySeamus James. Who does he think he is, spreading rumors about me?

He’ll realize what Reid Luther did, after telling everyone in middle school I’d kissed him behind the gymnasium—I bite back.

Everyone at school was talking about Reid’s freakishly large tongue for months.

Of course,Jeffreyhasn’t learned that lesson, as both Seamus and Nicole have reminded me of in the past few hours…

Call me salty, but I don’t like them for it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say coldly.

“Neither do I,” she says with a laugh. “I’ve been spying on Seamus to figure out what his deal is, and I overheard you two talking.”

“Excuse me?” I say, nearly dropping the flask. Instead, I take another gulp—I’m notnearlytipsy enough for this conversation—and turn toward her.

“Parched, huh?”

“Yes. You’ve been spying on him?”

She shrugs, as if it’s no big deal to spy on people. “I haven’t done a deep dive yet, but yeah, of course. His brother’s marrying my sister.”

Ah, so that’s how she’s connected.

“And you wanted to check him out.” I glance at my brother and Rosie, still staring deeply into each other’s eyes. A pulse of protectiveness works through me. “I get it. I ran a background check on Rosie.”

Her lips purse in amusement. “I’m guessing you didn’t do a very good job.”

“Are you angling to get hired for something?” I ask pointedly. Because I'm in no mood for nonsense. I never am, but my tolerance is at an all-time low. Besides, we’re starting a new year in a few minutes, and this obnoxious conversation isn’t the way I’d like to kick things off.

“Nope. I’ve got plenty of money. But I am getting a little bored. Ireallydislike being bored.” Her gaze turns assessing as she looks me over. “Judging by what you’ve been up to with the lipstick all night, you’re bored too.”

I don’t deny it. Defacing the statue was fun, and I’ve added lipstick smiles to two old portraits of old men—one of them my great-grandfather, another some kind of uncle or cousin even my father couldn’t name. They look better in red.

My mother has asked who’s behind the lipstick mischief, but from the gleam in her eyes, she doesn’t mind. She wants to change things up too. After all, she’s spent the last few decades in this tomb. Maybe she can tear down the wallpaper with me. Anthony can get in on the action too. It’ll be therapeutic and shit.

Nicole probably wants me to take her case-cracking as evidence of her intelligence, but I’m tipsy enough that my fingers might be covered with the evidence of what I’ve been up to. If I check now, she’ll see me doing it. No way am I going to give her that satisfaction.

“This conversation isn’t making me less bored,” I say, pouring every ounce of my upbringing into the words. The Smiths are practically royalty in this part of the world, or so my father loved to claim. His one point of interest in me was to convince my mother I needed to be a debutante when the time came so I could learn “how to behave like a woman in my station.”

My mother actually went through with it, although she did it as a punishment after she caught me sneaking out of the house with a bottle of her gin. If it had been the bourbon, she might have let me get away with it, but as it was, I’d spent several Sunday afternoons learning to balance books on my head and eat like a bird with an excessive amount of silverware.

Nicole’s grin is nothing like the poised smile debutantes are told to model. “I like you.”

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