“So, let me get this straight, you’re staying here because you and Levi broke your bed?”
Alana McGrath was my youngest sibling. She was twenty-seven years old, and a licensed private investigator working for our dad’s family business. Arriving that morning with Charles, they were just in time for Gramps’ Sunday dinner. No matter how many times I told them I was fine, they were still concerned about a possible link between Stepanov and one of Dad’s most controversial cases.
“Well …” I angled my eyes slyly at my sister, before smiling into the salad I was tossing. “We did.”
“Holy fuck. What did he do? Ram you against the headboard?” Alana’s eyes were saucers, and I couldn’t help laughing. She leaned over and scrutinized the guys outside who were kicking back some beer while Gramps smoked the meat. He’d been experimenting with barbecue and made damned succulent brisket and falling-off-the-bone rib. He gave finger-licking-good an exalted meaning. My Aunt Ava, who was a restaurant maven, wanted to open a barbecue restaurant.
That idea was still up in the air. Nana worried that attention may veer away from the Eamonn brand which was our chain of Irish pubs, but I could see where Gramps wanted a stamp of his own legacy.
We were helping Nana with the sides. All the McGraths were put into training at the pub at a young age. I started bussing tables when I was twelve, and occasionally worked the cash register. Though not all of us were savvy cooks, we were at least passable at knife skills and cold station preps.
Nana made the collard greens and the girls’ favorite, macaroni and cheese. The cheese sauce was made from béchamel and four cheeses, including white cheddar, which gave it that sharply robust taste I loved. Maybe Gramps was onto something after all.
“Well, I could believe that,” Alana continued our ‘broken bed’ conversation. “I always thought Levi was a monster.”
“Hey—” My cheeks reddened as I recalled my monster sex comment.
“Although …” It was her turn to look at me slyly. “Remember that time we were drunk, and you raved about his goods?”
I bit my lower lip at the memory, trying to suppress my horrified sheepish smile. It was during one of our distant cousin’s bridal showers. A male stripper was flaunting his silk covered package in front of me and I waved him off. “Don’t remind me.”
Alana laughed harder. “You told the poor guy your husband’s was twice as big as his—relaxed.”
Thankfully, Nana walked into the kitchen, and my sister couldn’t keep teasing me about my drunken blunder.
My grandmother checked the sides in the oven. “We should start serving soon.” She looked at us distractedly. “What’s this about Levi?”
“Nothing.” I changed the subject. “I say we give this barbecue restaurant a try.”
Alana’s mouth was twerking in an effort to contain her mirth.
“But who’s going to run it?” I continued, trying to keep my face serious when Alana was getting crosseyed trying to keep a lid on her laughter. “Ava’s more of a figurehead now and is stepping back. She loves traveling with Cesar.” Off the record, although common knowledge because no one admitted directly to being a mafia associate, Cesar was a scion of the De Lucci Crime Family which was currently being run by his nephew.
Our mob relations ran deep, though I didn’t mind the De Luccis because they were one of the organizations that still didn’t deal with drugs and human trafficking. Their real estate business was immense, and everyone was mum on what was legitimate and what wasn’t.
Such was the morally ambiguous nature of the clan I grew up in.
I thought about my cousins—Uncle Sean’s kids—who were more business-oriented and financial whizzes like their dad. “Sara loves Gramps’ barbecue so I think she’d be all over it. Besides, she loves to cook and has a good head for business like Aunt Ava.”
“I can’t even think about opening a new restaurant and starting from scratch.” Nana sighed. “Kelly, can you check with the guys if they’re ready to eat?”
A cooler of beer sat beside the men. Bristow was talking to Gramps, and, from their gestures, they were probably discussing the finer points of the smoker in front of them. Levi and Charles were off to one side. My husband’s attention kept drifting to where the girls were sitting on the grass beside Scout who was currently pouncing on a dozing Ruger. After we returned from our puppy field trip, Levi and I laid out the ground rules. The girls were to wake up early to feed the puppy which meant they adhered to bedtime without fuss. Levi would do the first and last walk of the day. Since it was a nine-week-old pup in need of housebreaking, there would be plenty of chances taking turns for walks. According to the book I was reading, every two hours seemed the norm.
“Nana asked if you guys are hungry,” I called out. “The sides are ready.”
“Bring it,” Bristow said.
“Where’s Kelso?” I asked.
“He’s on his way,” Levi said. “He should be pulling in any time now.”
“We can eat out here,” I said. Bending over the cooler, I checked its contents. “You guys have been busy. Need me to bring more ale?”
“The Belgian one,” Levi said.
All the men concurred with the suggestion.
“You got it.” I craned my neck to Ashley and Whitney. “You girls good?”
They gave me two thumbs up, too tired to vocalize their answer.
“That pup runs them ragged,” Gramps said. “See? Told you a dog is good for them. They don’t spend that much time watching TV any more.”
I laughed. “Sounds like it. I’ll head in and tell Nana and Alana to set up out here.”
“I’ll come help.” Charles fell into step beside me.
“You don’t have to,” I said. “We can manage.”
“But I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to my favorite girl.”
I jerked my head. “Come on then.” Even if Charles was my biological father, our relationship had always been indulgent uncle and niece. Even then, I knew he would’ve done right by Sofia if she hadn’t ditched me to marry into the Chicago crime family. I didn’t get the idea that he’d been in love with her. When Charles was released from prison, he did his best to be present in my life, functioning the best as the cool uncle who did all the fun things with his niece before returning me to my parents to handle the more serious disciplinary stuff. Which was why I could never repay Mads and Robert enough. They never made me feel like I was the reject of the brood. My issues had gone on long enough. I didn’t want it having a negative impact on my girls. “Any second-best girl right now?”
He grinned widened. “I’m happily unattached.”
“Probably best for your commitment-phobic ass.”
“Hey, we McGraths have the wild side. Ask your Aunt Ava. She has that streak too. I think Bianca is the same. Cesar is going to have a headache with that one.”
We laughed. “That should be interesting. She’s what? Turning twenty?”
“I think so,” he replied. We entered the kitchen.
“What are you two laughing about?” Alana demanded.
“Bianca,” Charles said.
“That one has a lot of Ava in her,” Nana confirmed.
“And she wants to join the family business,” my sister informed me.
“The restaurant?” I thought that was a given.
“No. McGrath Investigations.”
“What? This should be interesting. Tell Uncle Cesar to be ready with bail money.”
Everyone found that funny.
“We do have interesting clients,” Alana said. “A mafia wife wants me to track her husband who’s currently in Vegas with his mistress.”
“I thought mistresses were an accepted custom.”
“Apparently this particular wife expects more fidelity. The Omertà is so open to interpretation nowadays anyway,” my sister said.
“Just be careful,” Charles said. “Omertà or not, these Made Men value the brotherhood first. At least those who adhere to the old ways.”
Nana huffed. “The old ways? They choose which fecking rules to follow to suit their purpose. Don’t get me started when they start spouting this Men of Honor bullshite …”
“Okay, Mom.” Charles hurriedly rounded the counter to give Nana a hug because when she started cursing with a hint of Ireland and it wasn’t nipped in the bud, you were in for a fifteen-minute rant, maybe longer.
“We better set up the table,” I said. “Charles, can you grab the ale you guys wanted?” I walked over to the cabinets beside the sink to get the plates. When I looked out the window, my brows furrowed. The men’s attention was drawn in one direction toward the street. The sharp and short burst of a police siren alarmed me even more. I abandoned the plates when Bristow started charging for the street.
As I exited the back door and sprinted parallel with the guys moving from backyard to front, I heard Levi instruct Gramps to watch the kids.
“What’s going on?” Alana was at my heels. Charles was already a step ahead of us.
Levi looked over his shoulder. “Stay back.”
Bristow and Alana got into it.
“Get out of my way, ginger,” Alana snapped.
“We don’t have time for stupid shit,” Bristow growled. “Stand back while we handle it.”
“Oh, boy,” Charles chuckled. Keeping Alana out of perilous situations was like waving a red flag at a bull.
A standoff was taking place. Three black SUVs were in front of the house. Two cops from a patrol car had their guns drawn and pointed at our surprise visitors. Levi threw out an arm to prevent me from moving forward.
Kelso had arrived and was approaching the driver’s side of the first Suburban, his hand on the gun at his waist. Bristow and Alana quit bickering. Tension throbbed in the air surrounding us, making it difficult to drag in oxygen.
The first SUV’s middle passenger window rolled down to reveal the handsome face of a man I wasn’t expecting to see.
“This is quite the welcome party, sis.”
