Page 30 of Poison and Wine
She frowned. “But weren’t you all raised Catholic?”
After snaring a piece of bread from the basket, Dare replied, “Aye. Our mother insisted we go through every single step from christening to First Communion.”
“Callum and I were even altar boys,” Quinn remarked.
Caterina’s mouth gaped wide. “You were?”
With a chuckle, Quinn replied, “Not that it’ll help us much in the end.”
“Very true,” I replied.
“Don’t you practice anymore?”
While Kellan quickly replied, “Yes,” I countered, “It doesn’t actually align with our type of work, Kitten.”
Snatching her wine goblet, she muttered, “I’ve been abducted by godless heathens.”
I curled my lip at her. “I would argue your family isn’t any better. Yer precious brothers included.”
“Regardless of what they do in their business, they still attend mass.”
“Hypocrites,” I grumbled before shoveling in a bite of lasagna. The moment it hit my tongue I fought the urge to groan with pleasure. It was that fucking good. Considering she was a good cook, I couldn’t imagine why she wouldn’t want to do it all the time. A voice in my head said, because she doesn’t want to be your fucking slave, arsehole.
After silence fell over the dining room, Kellan remarked, “This is seriously the best lasagna I’ve ever had.”
Caterina beamed at his compliment. “Thank you, Kellan.”
“You’re welcome.”
When she met my glare, she sighed. Waving her fork at Kellan, she asked, “Why can’t I marry him?”
While Quinn and Dare snorted laughter behind their napkins, Kellan’s eyes bulged as he flushed the color of the red tablecloth. After he ducked his head, I grunted. “He’s practically a kid.”
“He’s closer to my age than you are.”
“She has a point there, Cal,” Dare replied with a grin.
Ignoring my arsehole of a brother, I replied, “He’s a fourth son. Why would you possibly want him?”
Caterina’s soft gaze appraised Kellan. “He’s compassionate.”
“He gave you one fucking compliment about your cooking and that makes him kind?”
She scowled at me. “He’s done more than just that. He fed me soup.”
At her admission, Kellan’s fork froze midway to his mouth. When he cut his eyes to mine, I quirked my brows. “It seems the two of you left that part out.”
He shrugged. “She needed to eat.”
Caterina nodded. “Since I was so weak, Kellan insisted I let him feed me.” Giving Kellan an appreciative look, she added, “I certainly wouldn’t have eaten without him.”
“Well, we owe our eternal gratitude to Saint Kellan,” I grumbled.
Shaking her head, Caterina said, “Why must you be such a jerk?”
“That’s your opinion.”
“Seriously, even marrying Chuckles at this point would be an improvement over you.”