Page 10 of Wicked Oath
She waves a finger toward my face. “I know guilt when I see it. What’s going on?”
I sigh. “Just … I met someone.” I lower my voice, so my parents can’t overhear.
“Now, how did you meet someone, missy? I know your dad has you under lock and key.”
I can’t help the smile that crosses my face. “I have my ways.”
Grandma chuckles. “That’s my girl. Tell me. Who is he?”
“He’s … a mystery to me. I can’t get him out of my mind.”
“You’re obsessed is what you are.”
A heat settles on my face. “You could say that.”
“But your dad wouldn’t approve?”
“I’m not sure. He’s a mafia man himself. I just wasn’t supposed to be out, is all.”
She pats my knee, groaning as she leans forward. “Honey, all will work out. And I say, live a little. Go meet this mystery man of yours again. Have some fun.”
“I would if Dad wouldn’t crucify me.”
“Just let me handle him.”
I smile.
I’m about to get up when I hear the front door open, and Owen strolls in.
“Grandma.” He nods at her.
“There’s my boy.” She gets up and hugs him with so much gusto that Owen stumbles. He sheepishly smiles as he pats her back. Even in his late twenties, Owen can still get embarrassed by Grandma’s affection. “What are you doing here? Doesn’t your dad have you working all the time?”
He shrugs. “He texted me to come over. I guess he has some news he needs to share.”
I glance around the room. “Where is Dad anyway?”
Owen shrugs again. So helpful, my brother.
Mom walks into the living room at that moment, a glass of wine in her hand. My mom subscribes to the “mommy needs her wine” aesthetic whenever she can. I just think she likes to drink a little too much. “Your father is out on some business right now.” She settles into the seat across from me as Grandma sits back down and Owen remains standing. Ever vigilant.
Owen scratches his neck. “Do you know when he’ll be back? I have more work to get to.” More like fighting in the rings, probably. I wonder if my parents know how often he does it.
The front door opens again as if right on cue, and I hear my father’s voice float down the hallway. But another voice is with him. A voice I recognize because I haven’t stopped thinking about it for days.
I can tell Owen recognizes James’s voice, too, since he stands up straighter, and a frown settles across his face.
Dad walks into the living room. “Hey, everyone is here! How wonderful.” Just behind him is James, walking into the room like he owns the place.
In a million years, I would never have thought I’d see the man I’ve been crushing on standing in my living room with my father. What the hell …?
James’s eyes meet mine, and he winks, making me blush. Owen looks between us and frowns harder.
“What’s this?” Mom asks, setting her glass down.
Dad claps a hand on James’s back. “Everyone, this is James Kelly.”
“I know who he is,” Owen seethes.
