I found myself wanting to punch Seamus in the throat and shove a hot poker up his nose.
Instead, I asked, “So what happened? You didn’t go back to your brother. What did you do when you were released?”
His mouth hitched to the side, and his eyes lost some of their melancholy. “Quinn.”
“Quinn?”
“Quinn used to do some work for Seamus—and a bunch of other bad guys—managing tech, security, computers, firewalls.”
“He provided tech support for criminals?”
“Something like that.” Dan rubbed his jaw. “When I got out, he’d quit running scams and was already in Chicago, doing his thing. But he had more business than he could handle. He offered me a job as private security for some senator’s son, to start.”
“But now you’re partners.”
“That’s right. I told him about some inefficiencies, dead weight—as far as I saw them—and made suggestions for improvement. He promoted me a few times until we became partners. We worked well together, building up the business. He focused more on the tech and investment side and I was the personnel and project guy—scoped the jobs, checked the clients, made the hires, staffed the jobs—that stuff.”
As he spoke and his dark mood seemed to lift, his usual matter-of-fact lightheartedness returned.
“Do you like it?”
“What? My job?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, I like it. And I’m good at it.” His gaze flickered over me and he lifted an eyebrow, opening his car door. “Why? You planning on offering me a job?”
I laughed, but didn’t answer, hiding my expression because the thought had crossed my mind.
He walked around the car to my door as I exited. I pulled my big bag of documents and binders from the back seat and surveyed my clothes, finding myself disheveled.
Actually, I was a mess.
I touched my hair. It was big, wild, and fluffy. I probably looked like I’d been making out with my husband in our rental car.
“Why’re you making that face?” He closed my door and reached for my hand, glancing both ways before crossing the street.
“Do you think your mom is home?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“I need to change. I’m . . . rumpled.”
“You’re gorgeous. I hope you change nothing.” He grinned, his gaze moving over me, communicating his appreciation for my untidy appearance. Dan pulled keys from his pocket and began working on the locks, muttering under his breath, “She needs an alarm system.”
“She won’t get one?”
He shook his head, turning the last deadbolt. “No. She’s stubborn, says it’s a waste of money, that she’ll forget to use it.” Pushing into the house, he held the door open for me. “I believe her, because she usually forgets to lock the door. I keep telling her to lock the front door. How hard is it to lock the front door?”
“I keep telling her the same thing,” a voice answered.
Dan and I stopped abruptly, spotting Seamus leaning against the wall at the end of the entryway. I heard Dan breathe out a loud, aggravated breath as he walked around me and snagged my hand, shutting the door behind us.
“Not in the mood. We’re going to bed. Lock up when you leave.”
“I don’t have a key.” Seamus’s eyes were on me as we passed. “And I’m not here for you.”
Dan, shoving his keys in his pocket, stopped at the foot of the stairs. “If you don’t have a key, how’d you get in?”
Seamus’s stare sharpened on me, and he lifted his chin in my direction. “You never told me your name. What should I call you?”
“My name is Kat.” I slipped off my shoes, releasing Dan’s hand to pick them up.
“You’re not going to call her anything, because you’re never going to talk to her.” Dan glared at his brother; his dark mood had returned.
Now knowing about the brothers’ history, Dan’s statement didn’t strike me as domineering or him ordering me around. He hadn’t forgiven his brother and I didn’t think it likely he ever would. Not unless Seamus made some serious changes.
As things were, Dan didn’t want Seamus to be a part of his life. I understood, respected, and supported his decision.
Turning to Dan, I placed a kiss on his cheek. “Come upstairs. We’ll play Monopoly.”
“Yeah.” He smirked, stealing a kiss. “Let me see this bozo out.”
“Kat is short for Kathleen.” Seamus pushed away from the wall and the movement drew my attention. His eyes were still on me and something about them, about him, sent a shiver of discomfort racing down my spine.