Blood and Fire (McClouds & Friends #8)(96)

“Let go of him!” Lily chopped at his adopted brother’s huge, unyielding fist, which pressed painfully against Bruno’s Adam’s apple.

Kev’s fierce stare swung to Lily, taking in her furious face and fiery eyes. “This is the femme fatale?”

“Femme fatale, my ass!” she snapped. “Put him down, you jerk!”

Kev let go. Bruno ducked out of arm’s reach, rubbing his larynx.

But Kev didn’t attack again. “And then you don’t call,” he said, more quietly. “What in the f*ck is that about? Why didn’t you call?”

Bruno glanced around. Everyone was listening for his excuse.

“Uh. Didn’t want to worry you,” he mumbled.

A harsh sound came out of Kev. “And when you got my text? Did you figure I’d just let it go, stop being worried? Aw, shucks, he didn’t answer me, so I guess everything must be fine. Let’s just go back to the beach. Is that what you thought?”

Bruno swallowed. “I wasn’t really thinking,” he admted, shamefaced. “I was, ah . . . I was—”

“Too busy getting jerked around by your dick?” Kev suggested.

Lily shot up a few inches taller. “You *!”

“Kev!” A shocked female voice from behind made Kev jerk and glance over his shoulder. His lady, Edie, was staring at him, appalled.

Kev looked sheepish. Edie, a tall and willowy brunette with shadowy gray eyes and long dark hair, gaped at Kev as if she didn’t recognize him. Everyone in the room stared. As if Kev had sprouted an extra head.

Kev flung his hands out and glared back. “What? Can’t I get upset? Everybody else around here freaks out. Why not me?”

Bruno rubbed his aching neck. “He’s not usually like this,” he explained to Lily under his breath. “He’s usually, you know, Mr. Zen. Supercalm. I’m the hyper one.”

“So let me take a goddamn turn,” Kev snarled.

Con spoke up from his perch at the end of the long bar. “Glad to see you still have it in you, bro.”

Kev turned to his brother. “What the f*ck does that mean?”

Connor took a meditative sip of his coffee. “A little emotion,” he said, finally. “It’s a good thing. Haven’t seen a whole lot of that out of you. Like Bruno says. You’re always . . . supercalm.”

“And that’s a problem?” Kev demanded.

“No way,” Sean piped up, his voice as flat as Connor’s. “No problem. Just a random observation.”

Kev stared wildly from one brother to another. “What the f*ck? What is this? What do you guys want from me?”

“Niente. Non è niente.” Zia Rosa bustled into the middle of the room and barreled into Kev’s big body. She gave him a bear hug.

He hugged her back, fiercely. “Ciao, Zia.”

“You two are just tired, that’s all,” Zia Rosa said. “And hungry. Sit down.” She shooed them over to the far end of the long table, as far from Lily and Bruno as possible. “I got food, lotsa food. Ah, honey, lemme take a look at you.” She grabbed Edie’s chin, pinched her cheek. “You’re fatter,” she said approvingly. She stared into Edie’s eyes, clucking her tongue. “You got that look, honey. The eyes, with those dark shadows? Eh? You losin’ your breakfast?”

Edie shook her head, smiling. “No, Zia. I was just on a series of airplanes for the last thirty-six hours,” she said. “My stomach’s fine.”

“Hmmph. We’ll just see.” Zia Rosa bustled off to procure food, clearly eager to test that hypothesis personally.

Bruno shepherded Lily back to her seat and sat her down, snagging a piece of toast to gnaw on, just to have something to do with his hands. Kev shot him a telling look from his end of the table. A look that said, I’m not through with you yet. Lily took a bite of her omelet, staring as Zia Rosa built two plates up to staggering proportions.

“So, the baby thing,” she said. “It’s just her schtick.”

“One-trick pony,” Bruno said. “Never fails.”

She gave him a look that made his heart skip and hiccup. “She gets a spectacular reaction when she teases you. Who could resist?”

Bruno decided to shrug that off. “She’s hell on wheels.”

Her hand seized his. “It’s just a Ranieri thing,” said. “That hell-on-wheels thing. Must be genetic.”

They stared at each other. The energy between them felt like physical pressure. Lily tore her gaze away. “Your brother’s no joke, either,” she commented, her voice sharpening. “Wow, what a charmer.”

“I swear to God, he’s never like that,” Bruno protested. “He must have taken up smoking crank. He’s always been so mellow.”

“Would you fix my locket?” A small hand grabbed his sleeve and tugged, and he looked down into Rachel’s beseeching eyes. “It broke!”

Bruno turned his attention to Rachel’s dilemma. It was simple to fit the two pieces of plastic back together and apply pressure until the joint hinge popped back into place. “Good as new.” He handed it to her.

She draped the chain around her neck and turned, holding up the clasps. “Would you close it for me?” she asked, conscious of the honor she was doing him.