Page 52 of Daring Destiny

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Page 52 of Daring Destiny

I needed reassurance, which pisses me off.

Then again, I did something I’ve never done before. Set boundaries. Asked for what I want out of a relationship rather than going along for the ride and getting burned. And, Brennan promised to make space for us. I know he’s trying. Part of me wonders if he’s doing it to appease me or because he wants the same things as me.

I hope it’s the latter.

We park at his parents’ house and I feel a familiar swirl of emotions—anticipation mixed with a hint of unease. Sure, I’ve been here before, met his folks and his little brother and was welcomed warmly.

Tonight feels different. Everyone but Cillian is here. It’s kind of like an audition.

I hope I pass.

Brennan, who’s been quiet on the drive over, glances at me. His adorable, quirky smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” I nod, though I’m not sure if I am. With everything happening—Cillian going to rehab, Brennan’s stress over CognifyAI—I don’t want to be an added responsibility. A burden.

As we walk up to the door, once again, Maureen anticipates our arrival before we even knock. Her face lights up with joy. “There’s my precious boy.” She throws her arms around Brennan.

They share a special bond, Brennan and his mother. For all his brilliance and tendency to isolate, he finds comfort in the familiar things in his life, like the steady presence of his family.

“Astrid, we’re so happy you’re here.” Maureen turns to me. “It’s so lovely to see you, darling girl. Come in, come in.”

We step into the house and the tension in my chest eases. Maureen is so welcoming. So genuine. Even though I immediately feel more at home here on my second visit than I do in my own house, I can’t help but slip into the polished, put-together version of myself when I see the rest of the McGloughlin clan milling around.

It’s automatic. A reflex. I’ve spent years perfecting this facade.

The living room is buzzing with energy. Connor, holding sleeping baby Teagan, chats with two tall, handsome guys whom I assume are Liam and Padraig. Seamus and Rory are beside them, engaged in their own conversation.

Brennan keeps his hand on the small of my back, quiet but not withdrawn. Something clicks for me—he’s actually at peace here. The vibe is the same as when I stayed with him in Palo Alto. When he’s surrounded by the familiar, by people who know him, he’s comfortable.

Connor spots us and ambles over. “Well, look who it is! Good to see you two all loved up.” He wraps a long arm around Brennan before turning to me. “Astrid, keeping busy?”

“Soon. Real estate season is around the corner.” I peek at his adorable little girl dozing in the crook of his other arm. “And, who is this gorgeous creature?”

Ronni slides in next to me, looking a little frazzled as one of the twins clings to her leg. “That’s miss Teagan, our angel child.” She reaches down and musses her son’s hair. “Torin, go find your brother.”

“I can’t believe she’s a year old.” Brennan peers over at Teagan in wonder.

Connor squeezes Brennan’s shoulder. “Well, you haven’t been in Seattle much. They grow up fast.”

“Yeah.” Brennan glances at me. “I’ve had a lot on my plate.”

Out of the blue, Tristan chases Toran and they both smack into Ronni, nearly knocking her down. “Ohmygod. Boys. You’re driving me crazy.”

“The two of youse. Time out.” Connor points to the sofa. “Ten minutes. No talking. No poking. No prodding. Behave yourselves. And, apologize to your mum.”

Impressively, they obey Connor immediately.

“You have your hands full.” I help her straighten her sweater when the boys are settled. “Three kids under five is no joke.”

Ronni nods and takes Teagan from Connor. “We’re managing. Barely. Thank God you found us the perfect house. I don’t know how we’d survive without the space. I’m going to get her fed before dinner, I’ll be fifteen minutes or so.”

As Ronni heads to the back bedroom, Brennan’s brothers approach and I find myself face-to-face with all four McGloughlins at once—Liam, Padraig, Seamus, and Connor. It’s like being surrounded by different versions of Brennan, each with their own quirks, but all with the same unmistakable Irish charm.

Connor, Liam and Padraig are deep in conversation about their respective bands, LTZ and Fireball, talking about upcoming tour schedules and such.

Seamus turns to me. “So, Astrid,” he offers me a polite smile, “how was your time in California with Brennan?”

“Magical,” I say honestly.




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