Page 83 of Dirty Legacy

“That’d be great. The parents, not the dye.”

“I’ll convince you.” She perks up and I follow her into their wing. She takes me to a room toward the back which turns out to be a massive living room with a huge couch and a TV blaring some reality show I don’t recognize. There’s a kitchen and an older man is standing behind the counter in black gloves preparing some kind of ribs. He looks up and I’m surprised at how much he resembles Connor, though his hair is streaked with gray. He’s handsome and I like the way his eyes light up the second he sees Rowan.

“Blue this time, huh? Looks good, but I keep saying the pink was the best.”

“I haven’t gone pink in years. Dad, this is Angie, Connor’s wife.”

Connor’s father steps back from the big rack of meat and holds his spice-covered hands in the air. “I’d give you a massive hug, but you caught me at a bad time.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Maguire. It’s really nice to finally meet you.”

“Call me Cathal. I was wondering when Connor would release you from that prison.” He makes a face, chuckling to himself. “Leave it to my son to marry a woman and lock her up on the same day.”

“Dad, be nice.” Rowan plops onto a stool. “Is that dinner?”

“I figured I’d give the kitchen a break. You two ladies looking for something to do?”

“I caught that one gazing at the front door longingly.”

Cathal dips his chin as if he knows the feeling. “Freedom sounds nice right about now, but since we’re all in this gilded cage together, we might as well have ribs.”

“Dad thinks he’s a good cook,” Rowan stage-whispers to me. “But I’d call him more enthusiastic.”

“Keep going on like that and you’re not getting a single bite of this.” Cathal returns to prepping, smearing spice rub all over the rack. “Angie, welcome to the family. I’m only sorry it’s not a better time.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad to finally meet you at least.”

“Where’s Mom?” Rowan cranes her neck toward the couch. “Don’t tell me⁠—“

“I’m right here.” A younger woman pops up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “What’s going on?” She stands, yawning. Late thirties, much younger than Cathal, and very pretty. Dark hair, designer clothes, a sharp smirk. “Is that who I think it is?”

“Your mother had too much wine last night.” Cathal waggles his eyebrows. “And now she’s paying for it.”

“I’ve never been hungover in my life!” Rowan’s mother gets up and walks over, thrusting a hand at me. “Danielle Maguire, good to meet you. I hope my husband hasn’t scared you off yet.”

“No, not at all.” We shake and her grip is firm. I look from her to Rowan to Cathal, mentally doing the math.

But Rowan steps in. “Me and Connor are half-siblings,” she explains.

“Like I could ever give birth to a demon like Connor.” Danielle pulls Rowan in tight while she pretends to complain. “His father and me got hitched years back, after his mom passed.”

“God rest her soul,” Cathal says reverently.

“Now we’re one big, fucked-up family.” Danielle sighs dramatically. “Did I ever tell you what Connor said to me the day me and your dad got married, Rowie?”

“A million times,” Rowan says.

“He told me, and I quote, if you break my father’s heart, I will cut out your tongue and shove it up your ass until you’re farting in showtunes.”

“That’s my boy,” Cathal says approvingly.

“Connor and Mom have a love-hate relationship,” Rowan says.

“Yeah, I hate him and he loves to hate me back.” Danielle squeezes harder. “But you’re my little precious darling Rowie, my love⁠—“

“Mom!” She wriggles herself free. “You know who Angie is, right?”

Danielle brushes herself off and steps toward me. My heart stutters and I wonder why she’s got this intense look on her face all of a sudden. Is she mad at me because I’m Connor’s wife? And she clearly doesn’t get along with him? But after a beat, she wraps her arms around me and hugs so hard it hurts my back.