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  “No problem,” he said, shooting Jerry and Aidan a stern look. “You really shouldn’t have left her in Detroit to find her own way home.”

  “We thought she left with you,” Aidan said. “We never would have left her there.”

  “Why would I leave with him?” I was scandalized – and embarrassed.

  “Because you’re warm for his form,” Jerry said simply.

  “I told you to stop saying that,” I hissed.

  “What? That you’re hot for me?” Griffin looked interested.

  “No,” I shook my head, ignoring his pointed look. “Warm for your form. It’s a stupid saying and it bugs me. He and Aidan have been saying it for days.”

  “If you went home with him, Bug, things wouldn’t bug you as much,” Jerry said. “Bug being bugged. That’s kind of funny.”

  I would murder him if a cop wasn’t in the room.

  Griffin chuckled, not trying to hide his wide smile. “Well, that’s flattering. I think. I’ll … be in touch.”

  I met his gaze, feeling a weird mixture of emotions – fear, longing, regret – wash over me. “I’ll see you.”

  “You will,” Griffin agreed, shutting the door behind him as he left.

  Once it was just the three of us, I turned back to Jerry and Aidan. “Do you two want to explain yourselves?”

  “I think he likes you,” Jerry said.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about,” I shot back.

  “That’s good for us,” Aidan said. “If he’s hot for you, that means he can’t possibly think we’re murderers.”

  “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t know that we’re up to something,” I countered.

  “He doesn’t know what, though,” Jerry said. “He’ll never be able to figure that out. I know and I still don’t believe it.”

  “We’re getting off point.”

  “What’s the point again?” Aidan asked.

  “That you two were about to get all … groiny on my couch.”

  “Groiny? That’s not a word.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “It should be.”

  “Just chill,” Aidan said. “It’s not a big thing. We had a few drinks and we were watching some television and one thing led to another … it was an accident.”

  I glanced down at the Blu-Ray case on the table and knew he was lying. “You were watching Pretty Woman and thought that wouldn’t lead to something?”

  Pretty Woman is like catnip for Jerry.

  “Nothing happened, Bug,” Jerry said. “A few kisses, a little petting.”

  “Don’t say petting!”

  “Maybe you should get some sleep,” Aidan suggested. “You’re obviously exhausted from all the flirty looks you and Detective Taylor were giving each other all night.”

  That did it. “I can’t even look at you!”

  “Then go to bed.”

  I stalked toward my bedroom, pausing in the open door, one hand ready to slam it shut. “You better not be here in the morning and I better never hear about this ever again!”

  “Good night, Bug.”

  “Sleep well, sis.”

  Men.

  Nineteen

  “You’re kidding!”

  After a long night spent tossing and turning – dreams of a sweaty Griffin warring with the memory of Aidan and Jerry groping on the couch fighting for supremacy in my brain – I left the condo early, before Jerry was up.

  I just couldn’t look him in the eye.

  I went to Grimlock Manor to see how much headway my brothers had made in their research on the grimoire. Cillian and I were locked in the library – him behind a computer, me lounging on a couch pretending I was leafing through research books -- and searching for any information.

  I had promised not to tell anyone about Jerry and Aidan’s dalliance. So, of course, I lasted fifteen minutes before I broke.

  “No, I’m not kidding,” I replied. “I’m scarred for life.”

  Cillian laughed, his eyes filled with the mirth I was worried would be missing for days after his run-in with Angelina. “That’s horrifying. What did you do?”

  “I pitched a fit,” I said. “What should I have done?”

  “I don’t know,” Cillian said, shrugging. “Turn off the lights?”

  “What?”

  Cillian bit the inside of his lip as he regarded me. “Aisling, this really can’t come as a surprise to you.”

  “Of course it’s a surprise,” I said. “Aidan is my brother.”

  “And Jerry is like a brother,” Cillian said. “He’s not a real brother, though. He’s just a good friend to us. He’s only a brother to you.”

  “It’s still gross.”

  “It’s … interesting, not gross. I expected more from you.”

  “It’s not gross because they’re gay,” I clarified. “It’s gross because we’re all the same age and we all grew up together.”

  Cillian reached over and tousled my hair, stopping to examine a strand of it for a second. “I like the white highlights.”

  “Dad hates them.”

  “That’s why you put them in, isn’t it?”

  “That’s an ugly thing to say.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “Let’s go back to talking about how gross Aidan and Jerry licking each other on my couch is.”

  “Licking? Don’t go into detail.” Cillian held up a hand in an attempt to keep the visual out of his mind.

  “Who was licking?” Braden poked his head into the room. When he saw it was just Cillian and me, he joined me on the couch, shifting my legs to give himself enough room to sit.

  “Aidan and Jerry were making out on the couch when Aisling got home last night,” Cillian said, his violet eyes twinkling.

  I expected Braden to freak out. Instead, a wide smile took over his handsome face. “It’s about time.”

  What the hell? “How can you not be freaking out about this?”

  “Because some of us have been waiting for it to happen for years,” Braden said.

  “What? You can’t be serious. They have nothing in common – other than being gay – and you can’t build a relationship on that.”

  “They have a lot in common and very little of it revolves around them being gay,” Braden said. “You’re just too close to the situation to see it.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “We’re close to Aidan,” Braden said.

  “You’re close to Jerry, too.” I may be angry at Jerry, but I was still his biggest cheerleader. “He’s a great guy.”

  “He’s an awesome guy,” Braden agreed. “He’s a great catch for someone.”

  “Someone who isn’t Aidan,” I grumbled.

  “Why not Aidan?” Braden asked. “Don’t you think he’s good enough for Jerry?”

  “Of course he’s good enough for Jerry,” I shot back. “Aidan is a catch, too.”

  “Then why shouldn’t they catch each other?” Cillian asked, searching my face for answers.

  “Because … because … because I said so.”

  “Because you think that if Aidan and Jerry get together, you’ll somehow lose your best friend,” Braden said.

  “I don’t think that,” I scoffed.

  Braden captured my hand with his, bringing his other hand to it to make sure I didn’t yank it away. “Jerry loves you. He’s never going to just throw you over. Not even for Aidan.”

  “I never said he was.”

  “No,” Braden agreed. “I think that’s why you’re fighting this, though.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “Is it?”

  Cillian had stopped his tapping on his laptop – which was resting on his lap as he sat on the floor in front of one of the wingback chairs across from us – and waited for me to answer. The problem was, I didn’t have an answer. Was Braden right? Was I keeping Jerry from something special because I was jealous?

  “I want Jerry to be happy,” I said finally.

  “I know you do.”
<
br />   “I want Aidan to be happy, too.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t think I can share a bedroom wall with Jerry while he is banging my brother.”

  “Ugh,” Braden said, dropping my hand. “Did you have to take it there?”

  It wasn’t so funny when the shoe was on the other foot, was it? “It just freaks me out.”

  “Okay,” Braden said. “I can see that. The question is, when it comes down to it, are you going to stand in their way?”

  “They said it was just an accident,” I argued.

  “And you believed that?”

  My mind flashed to the Pretty Woman case. “No,” I admitted.

  Braden patted my hand. “Just think about it, kid,” he said. “It might be really great.”

  “How?”

  “Because, if they get together and stay together, Jerry would be an actual member of our family,” Cillian supplied.

  “He’s already a member of our family,” I grumbled.

  “Just think about it,” Braden pressed.

  I blew out a sigh. “Fine.”

  “Good girl,” Cillian said, turning back to his computer screen.

  “What are you two doing?” Braden asked.

  “Researching the grimoire,” I replied.

  “Oh, did you find anything?” Braden looked interested.

  “It’s hard,” Cillian admitted. “There are a lot of generic references to grimoires in the records. Finding a specific grimoire, though, is like finding a needle in a haystack.”

  “That’s actually a misnomer,” I offered.

  “What’s a misnomer?”

  “Finding a needle in a haystack,” I said. “If you want to be correct you should say that we’re looking for a specific needle in a pile of other needles.”

  Braden rolled his eyes. “Do you always have to be such a pain?”

  “That’s what Griffin said to me last night,” I muttered. “I am not a pain.”

  “Griffin?” Cillian’s eyes lit up. “Do you mean Detective Taylor?”

  “He had to drive me home after you all ditched me at the ball last night.”

  “We didn’t ditch you,” Cillian said. “We thought you left with Jerry and Aidan.”

  “And they said they thought I was with Griffin, like that would happen.”

  Braden and Cillian exchanged a look – and it wasn’t lost on me. I pretended I didn’t see it, but neither one of them appeared ready to let it go.

  “Do you like Griffin?” Braden asked, reaching in to tickle me for emphasis.

  I shifted away from him, irritation bubbling up. “He’s a cop.”

  “That’s not a ‘no,’” Cillian said.

  “Why can’t you like a cop?” Braden asked.

  “Because he’s investigating Aidan and me for murder.”

  “Besides that.”

  “Oh, yeah, because that’s such a little thing,” I scoffed.

  “It’s not like he believes you’re a murderer,” Cillian said. “You can tell he’s interested in you.”

  “How can you tell that?”

  “Because he watched you the entire night,” Braden supplied.

  “Oh, please, how do you know that?”

  “Because we were watching him.”

  “You were watching him? You spent all night watching him?” That was creepy.

  “If you didn’t notice, there was a decided lack of women there last night,” Braden said. “It was either watch him or watch Dad. He was more interesting.”

  “And he was watching me all night?” I tried to hide my interest.

  “Would that make you happy?” Cillian teased.

  “No.”

  “I think you like him, too,” Braden said.

  “I think you two are delusional.”

  “Fine,” Braden blew out a sigh. “Keep denying it. We know, though. It was written all over your face.”

  “Whatever,” I said, dismissing the topic of Griffin from today’s conversation agenda. “What are we going to do about the grimoire?”

  “I set up a trap and trace,” Cillian replied.

  “For those of us who aren’t computer geeks, what does that mean?”

  “It means I’ve gone to all the regular online dealers and typed in the specifics of the grimoire we’re looking for,” Cillian said.

  “And what will that get us?”

  “Maybe nothing,” Cillian said. “If someone tries to sell it, though, we’ll be able to find out who.”

  It wasn’t much, but it was something. “And you know how to do that?”

  “I’m smarter than I look.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “Because you’re never going to catch a woman with the way you look. It’s good you’re smart, so you have something to fall back on.”

  Cillian slipped the computer onto the floor and launched himself on top of me. I’ve wrestled with my brothers for as long as I can remember, so I have a few moves, but he caught me off guard and I was utterly helpless in seconds. Once he managed to pin me beneath his weight he had me at his mercy.

  “Who is the best-looking and smartest brother you have?”

  “Braden,” I laughed, despite myself.

  Cillian tickled me harder. “Who is the best-looking and smartest brother you have?”

  “Redmond.”

  “Try again.”

  “Aidan?”

  “You have thirty seconds,” Cillian warned.

  “You,” I ceded.

  “And who is your favorite brother?”

  “You.” Cillian let off just enough for me to catch him off guard and shift my hips, tumbling him onto the floor next to me. “You’re all schmucks, though.”

  Twenty

  “Did everyone enjoy the ball last night?”

  Family dinners in my house are tough. My brothers make it fun but, depending on his mood, my father can make them hell. Not actual Hell, just hell on Earth. He was in a good mood tonight, though, so things were fairly light and entertaining.

  “I think Aidan had a good time,” I said pointedly, shooting him a mischievous look from across the table.

  “Oh, yeah? What did you do?”

  My family is close. We remain close by leaving Dad out of the gossip loop.

  “I hung out with Aisling,” Aidan replied through gritted teeth.

  “And Jerry,” I added.

  Aidan pursed his lips. He was angry. I didn’t blame him. I was being catty – and I knew it.

  “And Griffin,” Aidan said. He had obviously decided to play dirty, too.

  “Who is Griffin?” Dad asked.

  “Detective Taylor,” Redmond supplied, his eyes shifting between Aidan and me. It was a good bet that Cillian and Braden had filled him in on the gossip.

  “The detective who took you in for questioning? He was there?”

  “It was a police ball,” I said, fixating on my dinner plate. “I think it was probably expected of him.”

  “Did he talk to you?”

  “Not only did he talk to her, but he danced with Aisling, too,” Aidan said.

  “And he drove me home when you all ditched me,” I said, glaring at Aidan.

  “You all ditched her?” Dad didn’t look happy.

  “We thought she left with Aidan and Jerry,” Redmond said. “We never would have left her.”

  Dad turned to Aidan expectantly.

  “I thought she left with Griffin,” he said. “They were looking at each other like two dogs in heat all night.”

  “That’s enough,” Dad warned. “Don’t say things like that about your sister.”

  “Sorry,” Aidan mumbled, looking down at his dinner.

  Dad turned to me. “Are you interested in this cop?”

  “No,” I said, my voice lifting an octave.

  Braden snorted.

  “Is she interested in him?” Dad turned to Braden.

  Now Braden and Cillian were fascinated with the food on their plates.

  “We’re not real
ly privy to the inner workings of Aisling’s mind,” Redmond supplied. He always was the diplomat in our family. “Although, if I had to guess, there’s some interest there. On both their parts.”

  He’s also an ass when he wants to be.

  Dad kept his gaze trained on me. “Is this true?”

  “No.”

  Dad narrowed his eyes. He’s not privy to our gossip, but he knows when we’re lying. I squirmed under his pointed attention. “Getting involved with a cop wouldn’t be good for us.”

  “I know that.”

  “Make sure that you do.”

  “I do. I’m not interested in him. They’re just being jerks.” My heart pinged in my chest when I told the lie. Crap.

  Dad must have considered the topic closed, because he shifted his attention to Aidan. “What are you and Aisling fighting about?”

  “Wait a second,” Redmond interrupted. “Why can’t she date the cop?”

  Dad turned back to Redmond, reluctance stifling his movement. “You know why.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “We can’t tell a cop what we do for a living,” Dad said. “The relationship would never work.”

  Redmond wasn’t convinced. “We’ve told other people, people we’ve grown close with. You told Mom.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?” Redmond pressed.

  “I married your mother.”

  “What if Aisling marries Griffin?” Aidan asked, suddenly on my side again. “I don’t see why she can’t eventually tell him if it gets that far. We’re putting the cart ahead of the horse.”

  Wait, am I the horse in this analogy?

  “Do you think a cop is going to understand what we do?” Dad looked nonplussed.

  “I think it depends on the cop,” Aidan said. “We don’t know enough about Griffin to say either way.”

  “So, she shouldn’t get involved with him,” Dad replied. “It’s pretty simple.”

  “I think we shouldn’t be talking about this,” I said, my voice low.

  “I think we should let Aisling decide on her own,” Cillian said. “They’ve only known each other a few days. We don’t even know if he could put up with her attitude. I don’t think we should be worrying about forever when we don’t even know if a month is an option.”