Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

FINNIGAN

Since promising to move at her speed a few nights ago, I have had only a handful of stolen kisses on church property with Catlin. Not nearly as many as I would like .

Choosing to use the Scrambler to drive her to New Rochelle is undeniably a cheap way to have her pressed against me, but I couldn’t help myself. I need more. Had she refused the ride on my motorcycle, I would’ve had no issue using a rideshare instead.

But fuck, am I ever glad she didn’t.

She clings to me so tightly, though, that I’m quite certain she needed this as much as I did. I relish in the feel of her arms wrapped around me and her thighs quivering lightly against mine with every mile. I’ve fucked my hand several times in the past few days, imagining her beneath me with her limbs wrapping around me just like this. Having her this close makes my cock twitch each time those images come barreling through my thoughts.

Fuck, Finn.

Pay attention to the road.

Slipping my fingers from hers, which are splayed across my chest, I rub her hand before retaking the handlebars with both hands to navigate a series of rapidly approaching sharp turns. Her arms tighten their hold—her hand remaining steadfast over my beating heart—as she effortlessly moves with me through every turn.

We pull to a stop before a tall, wrought-iron gate. I press the entry code into the call box on my left as Catlin taps my chest to garner my attention over the loud hum of the bike, shouting, “Where are we?”

“Your birthday dinner,” I reply over the engine with a smirk beneath my helmet before pulling through the gate as it slowly opens and proceeding up the drive. Coming to a stop beside Tristan’s Aston Martin, I lower the kickstand and turn off the bike before removing my helmet. I reluctantly slide Catlin’s hands from me, and I tug lightly, gesturing for her to dismount. “You first, piscín .”

The moment she slides from behind me and climbs from the bike, I miss the feel of her against me. I watch for a second as she struggles to remove her helmet before lending her a hand. “Is this your place?” she asks as I place the helmet on the bike.

“No.” I scoff. While I love this house and spend a ton of time here, I couldn’t imagine a quiet life out here in the suburbs. “This is Declan and Quinn’s place. Everyone is probably out back on the deck.”

“Everyone?” Her voice ticks up. “I wasn?—”

“Relax., piscín ,” I drape my arm around her shoulders and pull her into me. Pressing my lips to her forehead, I inform her, “It’s just your friends and my brothers.”

Like I’ve ever brought any girl to my family…

… but Catlin isn’t any girl.

In an attempt to be a gentleman, I lead her around the side of the house with my hand pressed against the small of her back, Fiona announces our arrival. “ Uncail Finn!” Running barefoot across the patio, dripping water from her swimsuit, she jumps into my arms when she reaches me.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Quinn apologizes as she joins us. “Finn was pretty insistent about moving your party here.” She’s under-exaggerating. I was adamant and wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.

“I thought you said the plans had changed?” Cat looks up at me.

“They did—because I changed them.” Tonight is the first night since that kiss that I knew she would be out from under the overly watchful eye of Father O’Flaherty, and I wasn’t going to miss my opportunity to spend time alone with her. Carefully, I take her hand and intertwine my fingers with hers as my brothers approach us.

“ Cailín álainn ,” Liam flirts as he reaches for her free hand.

Playfully shoving him aside, Conor takes her hand and marvels, “You are more gorgeous than Finn let on.”

“I didn’t think it was possible to be more of a flirt than Finn.” Catlin nervously giggles as the two of them gush over her, and I suddenly understand Declan’s displeasure over my harmless flirting with Quinn.

“Too beautiful, and definitely too sweet, to be with this arse,” Tristan shares.

“ Pog mo thoin. ” I grumble. Gesturing to each of them, I introduce Catlin to Conor, Liam, Tristan, and Declan.

“If he doesn’t treat you right, let me know. I’ll happily beat the piss out of him for you,” Declan offers, taking her hand and formally introducing himself.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Quinn interjects, shaking her head at Declan. “These two will beat the piss out of each other because it’s Tuesday.”

“Based on the fact Finn is the only one of you with a black eye, I’m thinking he’s usually the one to get the piss beat out of him,” Catlin jests, and my brothers all erupt with laughter.

“Oh good,” Liam snarks, slapping my arm and giving it a squeeze. “Another brat.”

“Brat?” Catlin asks out of confusion. I have mentioned our club, but with her sexual inexperience, I haven’t delved any deeper.

That time will come.

“I’ll happily explain it to her if you haven’t,” Conor offers with a wink. “Demonstrations and all.”

“Not a chance.” I pull Catlin closer and whisper, “I’ll explain, eventually. Let’s start with dinner.”

Knowing how quickly Catlin befriended Quinn—and subsequently Layla and Jorge—I expected her to fit in with my brothers. But watching her interact with them during dinner, she slots right in with my family better than I could have ever imagined. Even with Declan, who has extensive reservations about our relationship.

“Do we get to have cake now?” Fiona chimes as we all bullshit with one another over empty dinner plates.