Page 27 of Until Ireland

“Mom, Dad,” Mack said, “this is Ireland. Ireland, these are my parents, Mackinley and Sarah Jane.” He then pointed to the two younger girls and grinned. “And these two rugrats are Macey and Waverly.”

“Ohmigod, you’re such an asshole, Mackinley Jr.!” Macey snapped while rolling her eyes.

So, he was named after his father. I’d tuck that bit of information away to ask about later, once we were alone.

“Now, now, children,” Sarah Jane said. “Let’s not frighten Ireland off with your petty sibling squabbles.”

Waverly laughed. “They’re always at each other’s throats.” She stepped forward first and wrapped me in a hug. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Same, thank you for having me and my brothers,” I replied, returning the hug. Even though I’d been nervous the minute I parked my car, being in the kitchen with his family caused all of the anxiety to leech from me. They weren’t only welcoming, but I instantly wanted to get to know them better.

“You have brothers?” Macey stopped her tirade with Mack and pinned me with a look. “Then you understand how insufferable they can be.”

I snickered. “I’m the only girl, so I understand more than most. Especially when it comes to dating.”

“How many brothers do you have?” Waverly asked, bringing me over where her and Macey were still spooning out cookie dough.

“Three,” I answered as Sarah Jane handed me a glass of wine. Unlike last time, I was going to pace myself. No way in hell I’d make a fool of myself in front of Mack’s parents. “Thanks. Hunter is thirty-five, Landon is twenty-nine, I’m twenty-five, and our baby brother Jackson is nineteen.” I took a sip of the wine and hummed in approval. It was light with a hint of sweet while the back end was a little sour. “They’re outside talking bikes and cars.”

“Mack mentioned you owned a garage,” his father said. “You rebuild classics and customs?”

I nodded. “We do. I own the shop with my brothers. I usually do all the engine work, Landon rebuilds transmissions and does small repairs while Hunter paints the vehicles when they’re ready. Jackson is in culinary school.” I braced myself for their response. Whenever I told anyone what kind of work I did, the replies were usually misogynistic.

“Isn’t it kind of dirty?” Waverly asked.

“Well, if I’m not going home without a busted knuckle and gunk under my fingernails, I didn’t do my job properly.” I shrugged.

“She’s a keeper,” Mackinley said. “She’s perfect for you Mack. Don’t do anything stupid.”

I bit back a laugh while I could feel my cheeks heat. Had I just received his dad’s approval?Play it cool.I didn’t need to show my ass by bouncing around the kitchen because I was excited about their acceptance. Well, not yet anyway. Later. Maybe.

Mack scoffed, in feigned indignation. “Me? She has a strike system.” He grabbed a beer out of the fridge then used the bottle cap opener on the edge of the hardwood counter. “I thought I was a goner before I even got to know her.”

“Well,” I said, teasing him. “You did stick your foot in your mouth several times.”

“Yep, that’s Mack for you,” Macey said, placing the tray she’d been working on into the oven. “It’s also the patriarchal bullshit society we live in. Guys are the only ones who can work on vehicles while us dainty womenfolk have to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.”

I mean, she wasn’t wrong. “If I had a dime for every time a guy asked for my brothers instead of me.” I shrugged while cutting my gaze at Mack, who at least had the ability to appear a bit little sheepish at the moment.

“We’re going to be best friends,” Macey said. “I already know it.” Happiness seeped through my veins. I didn’t have many friends to begin with, and again, the sappiness of approval filled me. Yeah, Macey and I were definitely going to be best friends.

“And that’s my cue to introduce Ireland to everyone out back,” Mack said, clearing his throat. “Don’t need the both of you staging a mutiny before the fun begins.”

I laughed. “Well, Anne Bonny is my favorite pirate, just saying.”

“It was nice meeting you, Ireland,” Mack’s mom said. “You’re going to fit in just fine with us.”

“Likewise,” I replied as we slipped out the side door to the patio. “I survived.”

Mack chuckled. “I knew you would. This is a whole other landmine of possibilities though.”

“What is this, a biker reunion?” There were men in cuts and women gathered together in small groups while children ran around the open field. Further back on the property sat a barn and off to the side a field of horses. More than three, but less than a hundred. “Don’t tell me you buy and sell horses too.”

“It’s a hobby of mine.” Mack shrugged. “Come on, let’s go meet the rest of the gang.”

“I have a feeling there’s a double-entendre there,” I said.

“Maybe.”

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