Braxton

“Aye, I still can’t believe Toby is a King,” Jeremiah laughs.

“Aye, but it’s true. We’ll keep it that way too,” Carrick nods.

“She’s one pretty Lass,” Uncle Jonah says, with a proud smile. “Proud of the lad.”

“Aye, now that Heather, what a ride she turned into,” Uncle Ronan says, looking over his tumbler at me.

I clench my jaw, not saying a word. My uncles and cousins have been at it all day. I know Uncle Ronan is just trying to get a rise out of me. I’ve been on edge whenever Heather is near me. I know my uncle has picked up on that. Calling her sexy is his way of trying to set me off.

“Is anyone off limits to you?” Noah chuckles, shaking his head.

“Ach, since when do I have to hold back. There’s enough of me for all the lasses. Enough of me there is. All shapes, sizes and ages,” Uncle Ronan croons.

“You can try shagging that one, Uncle Ronan, but it’s Biscuits to a bear,” Jeremiah chuckles.

“Aye, sure would be a waste of time. Have you not seen the way she’s been watching Braxton,” Carrick grins.

“Okay, so it’s not just the whiskey,” John teases.

“Has she now?” Uncle Ronan tilts his head, keeping his eyes on me. “Ye haven’t a rashers what to do with a lass like that.”

I snort and sip from my cup. All eyes are on me, waiting to see if I accept the challenge in my uncle’s words. I frown at them all, my brothers included. They’re getting a real kick out of all this. I think about getting up to leave, before I let them pull me in.

Just then, Heather catches my eye. She looks gorgeous. The sky blue dress she has on, not only complements her curves, but her skin as well. Her hairstyle is softer than usual and her makeup is more pronounce.

I miss holding her in my arms. Her eyes find me at the same time mine take her in hungrily. When we lock on each other, it’s like nothing else matters. I see as much longing in her eyes, as I feel in my own chest.

“Brax has had a thing for Heather, since they were little,” Wyatt grins.

“Um, ye may be on to something, Carrick,” Graham chuckles.

“Aye, the lass has his noodle in her hand,” Uncle Ronan smirks.

“My head is on my shoulders where it should be,” I bite out, tearing my eyes from Heather.

“Ach,” Reilly decides to chime in. “Even I have to say it. Ye have a glad eye for that one, you do.”

“Careful, he looks like he’s about to be cut to the onion,” Malcolm says, as my jaw ticks.

Everyone at the table begins to laugh. I take another sip of my drink, ignoring them all. I won’t allow them to take me there. If I do, they’ll be at it all night.

“Um, I still say I need to go to the States. I’d give it a go with Heather if I were there,” Carrick says, with a sly smile.

“Ye all want to do a number on me. I’m not buying. I’ll batter ye, ye say one more word,” I snap.

They all explode into laughter. I curse in my head. I just showed my hand. If my face didn’t already read how pissed I am, slipping into an accent and Northern Irish slang did.

“Come on, since when can’t you take the piss?” Carrick roars with laughter.

“Since you’re talking about my future wife,” I grumble and shift back in my seat.

* * *

Heather

I need a distraction from Lucy, who has become a bit annoying the more she drinks. I never noticed how handsy she gets after a few too many. Letting her grope me and grind on me is the last thing I want.

What I want is Brax, but I’m afraid that I did the one thing I never wanted to do. I’ve hurt him. His words from that afternoon, in his apartment keep ringing in my head.

I sure do have decisions to make. I’m just terrified of them. Still, I don’t want to lose Braxton. I’ve been thinking of going to see a therapist, when we return home. Somehow, I have to get past this.

I push all those thoughts aside, as I reach the table filled with laughter. Well, everyone is laughing except for Brax who has a deep scowl on his face. I notice my dad come over to the table with a beer in his hand. For some reason, he makes me more nervous.

“Aye, here’s the lass,” Uncle Ronan purrs in his silky voice.

My brows knit, as I look around the table, not knowing I was the topic of conversation. I suddenly want to back away and leave, but my feet won’t let me move. My heels seem to be rooted to the floor.

“Here, Love. Take my seat,” Uncle Jonah offers.

I take notice that his seat is conveniently right next to Brax. I reluctantly take the seat, as I see Nellie come over, with little Nora in her arms. Nellie takes a seat in Wyatt’s lap. I relax a little more, when Bean appears and Noah tugs her into his lap by her waist.

I notice out of the corner of my eye, Brax lifts his hand towards me, as if he’s going to place it on my back, but he lifts it to run through his hair instead. I feel my shoulders sag, I wanted that touch more than he could ever know. Yet, it’s my fault he didn’t follow through.

“What’s the craic, Heather,” Carrick asks.

A smile warms my face. “Nothing much. I saw you guys having fun and decided to come over,” I shrug.

“Aye, this group can be the curk, they can,” Carrick nods, his eyes shining with mischief.

“You should stay with us a wee bit longer, Heather. Once everyone else goes back. I think we’d get along just fine, we would,” Uncle Ronan says, with a sly smile on his lips.

“Ach, Uncle Ronan, I’m not one of yer fast lasses. I don’t think ye would have fun with me at all,” I tease with a wink.

Everyone around the table bursts into laughter. I feel myself relax more, this is family. I shouldn’t have been so nervous to come over.

“Oh my God! You’re accent was dead on,” Bean giggles.

“Aye, I think we be wearing off on you,” Carrick winks at me.

“See, I always knew I liked ye,” Uncle Ronan lifts his glass to me.

“Well, than where’s my glass,” I ask, tilting my head. I don’t realize it comes off as flirty, until Brax starts to grumble beside me.

Uncle Ronan lifts a brow. “Lass, I don’t believe ye be ready for this Irish Whiskey,” he chuckles.

“Is that a challenge?” I push my shoulders back and rise my chin.

“Don’t,” Brax, Wyatt, and Noah all warn in unison.

Uncle Ronan looks curiously between the three of them. His eyes slide back to me in amusement. I give him a crooked smile, daring him to pour me a glass.

“Ach, now I’m intrigued,” he purrs.

“She’ll drink even you under the table,” my dad snorts.

The guys all nod in agreement. I try to hold back my smile. Uncle Ronan’s head snaps back and he narrows his eyes at me, as if seeing me anew.

“Aye, ye see. I knew I liked ye,” Uncle Ronan bursts into laughter, pouring a glass of Whiskey and sliding it in my direction. “Anyone that can go on the lash with me is totally hatchet.”

I smile at being called Brilliant, lifting the glass, before I down the drink to a round of cheers. Uncle Ronan gives me a nod and pours me another glass. Everyone slips into banter about various things, all while we continue to laugh and drink.

We’re having a great time, when Uncle Ronan looks between Brax and me. I can see him studying everything about us. I shift in my seat nervously, finishing the drink in my glass.

“Ye alright, Love,” Uncle Ronan asks with mirth in his eyes. “Ye had a few. Can ye keep up?”

“I thought I noticed you slowing down,” I tilt my head and mock narrow my eyes at him.

His head falls back in a roaring laugh. He pours us both another drink and lifts his glass in toast. I lift my glass up as well.

“To ye good health and fortune. May ye follow what’s in yer heart and learn to be free,” Uncle Ronan says.

The smile on his lips softens the words, but they still send a shiver through me. I feel like his hazel eyes are looking right through me. I would think he found the door to my secrets, if I didn’t know better.

I lower my eyes to the table. “Cheers,” I say, but my thoughts have taken me away.

Everyone returns to their laughter and teasing, while I find myself picking apart my life. Constantly I chide myself to get over my past, but it hasn’t been that simple.

It has with Brax. It’s always simple with Brax.

Yeah, up until this point it has. I’m the one always complicating things. Maybe it’s time—

“Dance with me,” my thoughts are cut into by Brax’s rumbling voice in my ear.

I turn to him, biting my lip. He doesn’t know it, but somewhere along the line, I’ve forgotten how to say no to him. I nod, not trusting my voice.

The table quiets down a bit, when we stand. Looking around, I realize it’s because the McGowans and O’Breins are waiting to see how I fair. I throw my head back in a laugh.

“Really?” I shrug at them. “I’m good to dance with each of you, one by one. I don’t even think I’m tipsy yet.”

“Don’t even take that shit serious,” Brax warns pointing a finger at Uncle Ronan.

Everyone bursts into laughter, as Uncle Ronan grins, closing his mouth. “And here I thought I was ye favorite,” Uncle Ronan teases.

Brax places a hand on the small of my back, leading me out to the dance floor. I blow out a shaky breath as the song changes to a slow one. I lift my hands to place them on Brax shoulders, his hands landing on my hips.

I half expect him to whisper something dirty in my ear that will make me slap him, but he doesn’t. Instead, he locks eyes with me, as he leads me around the room. We just stare at each other, that old familiar pull between us lighting up the space around us.

My skin tingles being this near to him. Memories of the last time his head was between my legs, causes my heart to race. His eyes darken, as if he is thinking of the same thing.

“Have you thought about us?” he murmurs, as the next song flows in smoothly.

“I always think about us,” I whisper back.

“You know what I mean,” he frowns.

I sigh, nodding my head. “I have a lot of thoughts about what you said. I know things need to change. I…I want them to change. I…I just, sometimes I’m still scared,” I admit.

“Of what, Baby,” Brax pleas. “It can’t be our age. I’ve proved to you over and over that doesn’t matter. If you just tell me I’ll fix it.”

I go to answer just as Uncle Ronan and a drunken Lucy dance by. Brax glares at them both. Uncle Ronan gives me a sly wink.

“I’m impressed, I am,” he says, before dancing Lucy away.

“Let’s go,” Brax says, grabbing my hand and tugging me from the tent.

“Brax, slow down,” I huff, trying to keep up in my heels.

He looks back and down at my feet. A frown takes over his face. In the next motion, I’m in the air, then tucked against his chest. A gasp slips from my lips, but my protest remains locked in my mouth, as I see the determination in his eyes.

Something has changed.