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It was just a shame he was outdone by Marcus, who seemed to be treating the game like a gladiatorial challenge to the death. Liam had thought his family played hard, but they had nothing on Marcus. He legitimately whooped loud enough to frighten the baby when he bankrupted Riley after she was two dollars short on her rent. “No mercy in the real world, kid,” he said when she pouted and asked if he’d take an IOU.
“That’s a bit harsh don’t you think?” Will said. “We always allow IOUs with the younger ones. Family rules.”
Marcus shrugged. “New family member, new rules.”
Ambrose opened his mouth as if to say something, then snapped it closed again, and threw the dice with enough force that one of them skittered off the board and ended up under the armchair. Liam had to fish it out, and Ambrose slapped his arse while he did so, making Fi’s mouth pinch up like she’d sucked a lemon. The dice added up to four, which landed them on Chance. Ambrose picked up the card and screwed up his nose. “Go directly to jail,” he announced glumly, and didn’t even make the clip-clop noises when he put their piece on the square. “Why don’t we have a get-out-of-jail-free card?” he demanded of Liam, as though it were somehow his fault.
“Aw, you’ll have to do jail time,” Marcus mocked, far too cruel for it to be funny. Liam kind of wanted to punch him, and he was startled at the depth of his genuine dislike. “I guess you’ll be someone’s prison wife now. You’d enjoy that, right?”
Ambrose tilted his head at Marcus. “Bold of you to assume I’d be the wife. I might be the prison husband.” His eyes sparkled. “What do you think a prison husband does? Works nine to five in the prison yard and then comes home to his cell for a nice glass of toilet wine? Then he and the missus snuggle on the top bunk, and afterwards they smoke some contraband cigarettes until lights out.”
Liam almost laughed at how puzzled Marcus looked.
Marcus scowled for a moment and raised his eyebrows. “Wait. Does that mean Liam’s your?—”
“My throw!” Dad interrupted, grappling desperately for the dice. “Doubles! I get to go again!” He banged his counter loudly against the thin cardboard and counted aloud, possibly in an effort to drown out his own thoughts.
It didn’t deter Marcus in the least. “So is it true that gay guys give better head than girls?”
Ambrose raised an eyebrow. “Good question.” He leaned in close, grinning, and whispered loudly, “I guess you’ll never know, straight boy.” Then he mused aloud, “If a guy and a girl both compete sucking someone off, is it called going head-to-head?”
There was silence for a second before Riley let out a shocked giggle, and Fi sniffed in disapproval and said firmly, “That’s enough of that talk.” Liam recognised the thread of steel in her voice that meant the subject was closed, and heaven help anyone who didn’t take the hint. Apparently Ambrose recognised it too, because his mouth, which had just opened, shut with a snap. “That’s better,” Fi said.
Liam couldn’t help but grin at Marcus’s pinched expression at having lost the verbal battle, and when Ambrose flashed him a bright smile, it made warmth bloom in his chest.
He was distracted by his dad throwing the dice again, less violently this time. He advanced five squares and promptly snapped up Mayfair, meaning Marcus couldn’t complete the set.
“Aw,” Ambrose cooed. “No high-class real estate for you, big guy. Guess you’ll have to marry rich instead—oh wait, you already are.”
Neve’s brow furrowed when Marcus didn’t bother to disagree with Ambrose’s not at all subtle assessment of him as a gold digger.
“Sure am,” he drawled. But then he blew Neve a kiss and said, “Beautiful and rich. I guess I hit the jackpot, huh, sweetheart?”
Something about it struck wrong, but Liam didn’t have a chance to look at it too closely, because then Ambrose was tugging on his arm and saying, “Think I can get in on that? How long until you propose, sweet pea? Because my lease is up soon, and you have harbour views!”
Liam didn’t dare look at his parents. He could sense their sudden alarm. “I’m not proposing to you any time soon unless you unexpectedly fall pregnant.”
“That would be unexpected,” Ambrose agreed with a grin. “Since if anyone’s the baby daddy, it would be me.”
Mum sucked in a sharp breath.
Balian chose that moment to reach out from where he was perched in Bridget’s lap and pluck a house off one of Marcus’s properties, clutching it curiously in his fat little fist and examining it, then shoving it in his mouth.
“No!” Marcus snapped and smacked the back of Balian’s hand. “Don’t touch!”
Balian’s eyes grew wide, his mouth fell open and the spit-covered house fell into his lap. He let out a sharp wail at the same time that Bridget gasped loudly and pulled him close, glaring daggers at Marcus.
Liam could see that there was no way this was going to end well. And maybe it was a coward’s way out, but he didn’t even feel slightly guilty when he moved a foot sideways and with a sharp kick sent the board flying, scattering pieces all over the floor. “Oops,” he said unconvincingly. “Game’s over.”
“Good thing, too,” Will said darkly, scowling at Marcus. “Some people take Monopoly far too seriously.” Which Liam personally thought was rich, coming from a man who’d once bribed his own child with an entire pack of Tim Tams in exchange for letting Will have all the green and orange properties. Liam had been eight at the time, and a whole pack of Tim Tams had seemed like a much better option than a pile of cards from a game he didn’t really understand, especially when he didn’t even get to keep them once the game was done.
Bridget shushed and soothed Balian gently before handing him off to Orhan, who stood and rocked the baby back and forth, then she joined Liam and Neve and Fi in tracking down plastic houses and hotels and cards from where they’d gone flying, throwing Marcus dark looks the entire time. Ambrose plopped himself on the couch and didn’t help at all, other than to point out the bits that they’d missed. Marcus finally took a hint and made himself scarce, and as soon as he left the tension in the room eased, at least a little.
“Sorry, Bridge,” Neve offered. “Marcus doesn’t have much experience with kids. He doesn’t mean any harm, he’s just…driven.”
“It’s fine,” Bridget said, her tone suggesting it wasn’t really fine, not yet, but if they pretended for long enough it would be. Liam felt a flash of sympathy for his older sister, having to put up with her siblings’ two dipshit boyfriends this weekend. Except Ambrose was faking it, whereas it looked like Neve was engaged to an actual dickhead.
Maybe Liam was imagining things. Maybe Marcus was just nervous and on edge meeting the family and was a decent person under all his bluster. Still, Liam couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease at his sister’s choice.
