Page 49 of Keeping Kaitlyn

“You aren’t responsible for anything that happened,” I tell him. “He is, because if he’d been even a halfway decent father to her, she never would’ve left.”

“That’s not true,” Damien says on a quiet laugh. “The two of you were as inevitable as the sunrise. If I’d been paying attention, I would’ve seen that, the second you two met. Kait would’ve left with you, no matter what.”

Yeah, Kait left with me. She even married me—but she didn’t stay with me.

Instead of saying it out loud, I swipe a rough hand over my face. “Still doesn’t make you responsible.”

Clearing his throat, my brother continues. “The why and the who really doesn’t matter anymore, does it? What matters now is that Tom needs her to come home.”

I want to tell him I don’t give a fuckwhathis boss needs because whatever it is, it’s more than he deserves. That Kait’sfather isn’t going to get one moremotherfuckingchance to hurt her. That he’s punished her enough and I’ll be goddamned if he’ll ever get the privilege of laying eyes on her again.

But I can’t.

I can’t make that choice for her because it’s a choice she needs to make for herself. If Kait wants to go home and face her father, I can’t stop her.

“I’ll tell her.” I have to force the words out. “It’ll be up to Kait if she wants to come home or not.”

“Okay.” Clearly unsatisfied with the compromise we’ve fallen into, my brother sighs. “I guess that’ll have to do.”

AS USUAL,THERE’S A LINE IN FRONT OF BENNY’S. PEOPLE waiting to put their name in for a table. People waiting for a seat at the counter. People who’d rather wait outside on the rapidly warming sidewalk than subject themselves to Nora’s verbal abuse. Bypassing all of them, I pull the door open and walk into the crowded reception area stuffed with the same kind of weird mix we get at Gilroy’s—college students, finance bros, and crusty old-timers. When she sees me, Nora gives me a chin jerk while shooing the riffraff away from her hostess podium with a bony hand.

“Better be here lookin’ for Con,” she tells me, arching a grizzled white brow over her sharp, dark gaze. “That’s the only way you’re getting a table.”

“I am.” I give her a smile. I’d taken my time getting here in hopes that Con would give in and leave before I got here. I should’ve known better. “Is he still here?”

“I just said he was, didn’t I?” Nora’s gaze narrows and her brows slam down in a frown. “You’re stupider than you look.”

Taking it as a compliment, I give her a wink. “Can’t be handsome, rich,andsmart—wouldn’t be fair to the rest of them.”

Nora cackles at me from her perch. “Tell that boy he better not try sneaking out of here without giving me a proper goodbye.” She’d tell you that she loves all her Gilroy boys equally but she’d be lying. Con is her favorite and everyone knows it. The fact that he’s getting married next weekend has sent her into an emotional tailspin.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, giving her another wink before I skirt past her hostess stand and move toward the dining room. As promised, Con is sitting alone in the booth that stands empty, 24/7, unless at least one Gilroy is occupying it. He’s on his cell, talking quietly but starts to wrap it up when he sees me coming. By the time I’m sliding into the seat across from him, he’s off the phone and waiting for me.

“So,” I say, deciding to take the offensive, I settle into my seat before draping an arm over the back of the booth. “What’s up? Why are we here?” I know why we’re here. We’re here because he saw Kait and I together last night and he wants to know what my intentions are. If I’m just looking for a fast fuck or if I’m interested in her for real. We did the same dance when Tess and I started seeing each other.

I like you, Went. You’re a friend—a real friend—and that makes you family but Tess has been through enough. So, if you hurt her, or even cause her the slightest bit of discomfort, I’ll fucking murder you and feed you to her cats.

While Con’s connection to Kait isn’t nearly as strong as his connection to Tess, I’m fairly certain that something along those lines is coming because Kait is family too and if there’s one thing Gilroys don’t fuck around about, it’s family.

“Tess called me last night on her way home from your shop,” he says, his tone calm and neutral. “She let me know that she left Kaitlyn behind so you could finish her tattoo.”

Before I can either confirm or deny, Tanya sidles up to the table, brandishing a coffee pot. “Avocado omelet?” she says while she turns over my coffee cup and fills it. I’m in here no less than three times a week and I always get the same thing.

“Not today,” I say, giving her a flat smile. “Just coffee.” I’m picking Noah up after this. That means enough pizza and ice cream to kill an elephant.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” she says, refilling Conner’s cup before she walks away.

As soon as Tanya’s gone, I look at Con. “Tess said that Henley had some big shopping trip planned with her mother today so she had to get home.” Reaching across the table, I pluck a couple of creamer cups from the dish and rip one open. “I wasn’t even done with Kait’s outline yet, so Tess asked me if I could take her home when I finished up.”

Con makes a neutral sound in the back of his throat. “And?”

Dumping the last of my creamer cups into my mug, I give it a stir. Trying to buy myself some time because rule number one about Conner Gilroy—he never asks questions that he doesn’t know the answers to.

And that motherfucker knows everything.

“And I did.” Setting my spoon down, I look up at him. “I finished her tattoo and took her home, as promised.” Leaning back into my seat with a sigh, I shake my head. “Look—you obviously played peeping tom last night so you already know what happened, so let’s skip the theatrics and get to the part where you tell me what this whole thing is really about.” When he doesn’t deny it, I know that I’m right—Conner spied on Kait and me last night through the center’s security feed. Last night, I found it amusing. Right now, it pisses me off. “Before we getdown to brass tacks, can I tell you how fucking weird it is that you felt the need to spy on me with a woman whoisn’tthe woman you’re going to marry in a week?”

“Seven days, eight hours, twenty-two minutes and forty-one seconds, to be exact.” Con lifts his cup to take a drink, making it obvious he doesn’t give a shit if I think he’s weird or not. “How do you feel about her?”

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