Page 53 of Daring Destiny

We both glance at Brennan, who is staring at his musical brothers, eyes glazing over as Liam and Padraig dive into technical talk about production on their latest album. It’s like he’s trying to appear to pay attention, even though he’s in his own head. Likely sorting through some algorithm.

Connor nudges him with his elbow. “Bren, you with us?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, just…thinking.” Brennan’s focus snaps back immediately, though he blinks a bit as if waking up from a nap.

“He’s always like this,” Liam says fondly. “You’re solving the next big AI problem while we’re talking about stupid guitar riffs.”

It’s subtle, the way they do it. Connor, Liam, even Seamus, quietly guiding Brennan back to the present. They know his mind. The way he retreats into his own thoughts when he’s overwhelmed. How he likes things just so. No one coddles him. It’s like a gentle nudge when he needs it. No awkwardness or frustration—only love.

It’s beautiful.

I nearly choke up watching all of this unfold. I’m envious, truth be told. He’s a lucky man to have a family who accepts him for who he is. No questions asked.

I wonder how much of this Brennan is aware of.

Does he realize how much his family accepts him for who he is? Or, is there a part of him that feels like he doesn’t quite fit, even with them? It’s something I’ve been thinking about more and more lately, especially after spending time with him in California—and the past few days.

I’ve noticed how much Brennan likes routine. How he finds comfort in structure. It’s one of the things I love most about him—he’s so different from the men I’ve dated. Guys who are always looking over their shoulder for the next best thing. Or, chasing excitement and chaos rather than stability. When he’s focused on something, he’s all in. It’s refreshing.

Ohmygod.

Thinking back to our earlier conversation, I realize I may have read things the wrong way. Coming here to deal with Cillian’s crisis, when he’s so entrenched in his company dynamics, has thrown him off his game. He’s struggling to make his world feel manageable after being thrown a major family curveball. It doesn’t mean he’s not invested in our relationship.

Shit happens, sometimes.

I’m going to apologize when we get back to my place. I don’t want to put any additional pressure on him. My own issues have nothing to do with Brennan, and he doesn’t need to be anyone other than himself with me.

I love him.

All of him.

I never want him to feel like he has to change for me.

Maureen calls us for dinner and family chatter fills the room as we gather around the table. She’s outdone herself. The smell of roasted garlic and rosemary fills the air as she sets down a massive platter of slow-cooked lamb, perfectly tender with a golden crust. Next to it is a giant bowl of her famous buttery colcannon and a boat of gravy. There’s also a medley of roasted carrots, parsnips, and sweet potatoes glazed with honey and thyme, and freshly baked loaves of crusty Irish soda bread, still warm from the oven.

As we feast on the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten, Rory fills us in on the mammoth construction project he’s taken over while Cillian’s away. He seems fairly Zen about it, though everyone seems to be both frustrated and worried about the situation.

“Brennan, you’ve been unusually quiet today.” Seamus glances at his brother. “Everything okay?”

Part of me feels guilty. I hope the reason he’s not speaking isn’t because he’s worried about us. Stressing he’s not doing enough in our relationship. He’s not going to lose me, I need to clarify this when we’re alone again.

Brennan blinks at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

He’s totally worried about us.Shit.

“About work, no doubt,” Padraig teases, though there’s no malice in his tone.

Brennan smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah…”

I squeeze his knee under the table, trying to give him some comfort. He puts his hand on top of mine and squeezes back, but I can still feel the tension in his body.

After dinner, I help Maureen clear the plates. Brennan stays behind with Rory and Seamus, talking quietly about Cillian.

As we do the dishes, she glances over at me. “You’re great for him, you know.”

“You think?” I pause and meet her gaze, the soapy dish in my hand forgotten.

She nods, her smile warm and genuine. “He’s different around you. More at ease. He needs the balance you give him.”