Page 54 of Stronger Than Love

“Hey, Mikey, how’s work? Your boss treating you okay?” I asked.

“Nah, he’s a tyrant. He’s only nice when he brings his fiancée to work with him and they disappear into his office.”He grinned wickedly at me as he stretched to snag some pizza.

“Sounds terrible,” I lamented, my toes trailing up Liam’s leg, who’d settled himself beside me.

“So are the sounds from his office,” Michael continued, determined to annoy the hell out of Liam. “I swear to God I think he’s trying to kill her.”

Liam choked on his beer, glaring at Michael as he tried to control his breathing.

Niall’s brow furrowed, his confused stare roving from Liam to Michael. “I thought you were gaining experience in Liam’s office over the summer?”

Silence descended like a cloak.

“He was,” Liam replied, taking another sip of beer to cover his emotions. “I had to give him to another company as he was tormenting my receptionist.”

Michael sat down with a smug look on his face and a raised eyebrow. I had no doubt that Liam would kick his ass later. To distract the troublemaker, I introduced him to Martin and Angie.

“Hey, I’ve seen your photos on Facebook,” he replied with enthusiasm.

Angie looked confused for a brief second. “You’re Michael!”

“Yep, only Oonagh calls me Mikey. I don’t mind since she’s like a sister to me but not through blood. What do they call them again? Sister-in-law?”

“That’s the person who’s married to your brother,” Martin interrupted him, his face pale and tense.

“Oh, yeah.” Michael grinned from ear to ear. “The woman married to my brother.”

My foot on Liam’s leg stopped him getting up or I suspected Michael was about to be dragged outside.

“How’s the party plans, Mum?” Niall asked, throwing me a confused look.

I returned his stare with wide eyes.

Mum babbled on in the background about birthday cakes and caterers. All the while, my mind was focused on the way Liam’s fingertips traced over my ankle. I wanted everything else to fade away until it was just us, the way it had been for the past few weeks. Normally we curled up on the sofa after dinner, chatting and laughing while Liam muttered about the cushions and their function in life.

Angie chatted to Michael about an online game they both played, while Martin alternated between practically pawing Aoife to glaring at Liam as if he was his own personal enemy and drinking beer. His mood was out of character, but we’d all had a rough few months and needed some downtime to relax.

Stories flowed around the table, some from our childhoods and others consisted of Angie telling our adventures from different parts of the world.

Liam and Niall were sharing a memory, each of them telling a piece of the story about the time we got trapped in a field with a bull and had to make a run for it. Niall was laughing so hard he held his side, and Liam absently tucked my hair behind my ear as he joined in with a deep chuckle.

“Do you seriously need to keep touching her?” Martin demanded and the table fell into silence.

Liam’s eyebrow rose fractionally, but he ignored Martin’s comment when my leg tightened against him. I had no idea what was wrong with Martin, but he wasn’t himself tonight.

Instead, Liam jerked his chin at Michael, who dutifully stood to clear the table.

“Oh, my,” Mum gushed. “You have him well trained.”

“He seems to have control issues,” Martin muttered darkly, throwing Liam a nasty look.

“Martin!” I chastised. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know, Oonagh. What is wrong with me?” he hissed, slamming his bottle on the table, making me jump in my seat at the sudden noise. “Tell me, what’s wrong with me?”

My brow furrowed in confusion because he seemed to be asking me something different than his words said.

Liam was on his feet in a second. “I think maybe you’ve had enough to drink.”

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