Page 67 of Fall of a Kingdom
They weren’t.
At least, Barrett wasn’t. I wanted to speak to her alone, but it wasn’t my place. Flynn had tolerated me early on, but now we were friends. I respected him, admired him. And I would not come between him and his wife again.
A cry blasted through the baby monitor. Quinn and Barrett exchanged a look.
“I suppose we should both go,” Barrett said. “Doesn’t matter whose baby is crying. The other one will wake soon.”
Quinn rose from her chair. “You’re right about that.” She looked at me and smiled, and then ran a hand down my scarred cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Mam, can we be excused?” Iain begged.
“Yes,” Barrett said, ruffling her son’s hair. “I appreciate how nicely you asked me.”
“More flies with honey,” Iain quipped.
Barrett shook her head. “I stand no chance against your charm, Iain Willoughby Campbell.”
“Mam,” Iain whined. “No middle naming me, please!”
The boys rushed from the table and out of the room.
“You’ve got your hands full with that one,” Quinn stated.
“I’ve got my hands full with all of them,” Barrett said fondly. “Let’s go tend to the wee lassies.”
“Your affected Scottish brogue is terrible,” Quinn said with a laugh as she and Barrett left.
“Leave the dishes. Someone will take care of it,” Flynn said to me. “Let’s have a drink.”
I followed Flynn out of the kitchen. I thought he was going to the den, but he surprised me when he entered the study. I closed the door behind me.
A black and white stone chess set rested in the corner of the room near the gas fireplace, which wasn’t currently on. Flynn pressed a button on the mantle and the synthetic logs were suddenly aflame.
“You sure you don’t mind us being here?” I asked.
“No, not at all. Scotch or vodka?”
“Scotch.”
I sat down on one of the black leather couches and stretched out my legs.
Flynn plucked a crystal decanter from the antique liquor cart and poured two glasses. He walked with them to the leather sofa, handed me one, and then took the seat across the coffee table.
Only in the last few years had Flynn and I developed a relationship independent of his wife. We were bonded in ways that normal people weren’t.
“Have you decided how you’re going to live in Scotland and run the business?” Flynn asked.
“Dimitri is more than capable of handling the day-to-day in New York. He did it before,” I reminded him.
“Aye.”
“I’m still mulling over what to do about Boston. The Irish and the Russians aren’t meshing the way I expected them to, even though I’m engaged to Quinn. I think a co-leader situation is necessary. It will force them to work together and bridge the divide.”
“It could work,” Flynn said.
“It works with you and Duncan.”
“Aye, but we’re brothers. It’s different.”
