“It is?” Someone asked from behind us, deep inside the bar. “I didn’t know that.”
“Oh shit,” I whispered to Archer, who was watching it with amusement.
With a sigh, Sadie got back up on the bar. “Yes. Four nations—England, Northern Ireland, Wales, and Scotland.”
“Ah, you’re wrong. Ireland is its own country,” the same voice replied, sounding smug.
“No,” she said slowly, shaking her head. “It’s split into two: the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. Hence why there’s a lot of history involving Republicans and the IRA and the rest of the UK. Northern Ireland is one of the UK’s four nations, of which the Queen is the monarch of. She’s also the monarch for the whole of the British Commonwealth, which consists of fifty-four countries.”
“Is that so?” Elijah questioned, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her.
“Yes, it is so, so you calling her an archaic term like the Queen of England is wrong. There hasn’t been a queen or king of just England in centuries.”
Thinking this over, Elijah eventually shrugged and held his arms out again. “Now I feel like I just need to hug you to say sorry for insulting you.”
And just like that, he proved something we already knew in the family: Elijah Townsend-Rossi could handle anyone, even an irritated Brit. I’m not going to lie, I had wondered if there was a man out there who could match her, and now I was wondering if we’d found him. He’d wanted Sadie to relax around him, having obviously picked up on her wariness, and that’s how he’d gone about making it happen.
Then again, was she woman enough to handle him? Was any woman strong enough to handle him? Honestly, it was unlikely.
Not waiting for her to make her mind up and go to him, he quickly moved over to where she was and pulled her up and off the bar in a big hug, making her squeak as she flew through the air.
Glancing at Gramps, I saw him tip his head back and look up at the ceiling, no doubt coming to the same conclusion I had.
“Ah, excellent, you’re all here,” my brother Tate shouted, signaling his arrival as discretely as always.
Looking over my shoulder, I frowned when I saw various family members behind him, all carrying bags with them.
Smacking Elijah on the back, he greeted, “Good to see you, man, but could you stop manhandling my wife’s employee.”
Spinning with Sadie still held tightly against his chest, he shook his head. “Don’t wanna.”
Lifting her hand in the air, Sadie squeaked, “I kinda wanna.”
His response was immediate and determined. “No.”
Looking behind my brother, I frowned at my family. “What are you doing here?”
That frown deepened when I noticed Parker in amongst them with Rich and Beau, who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but here.
Clapping his hands together, Tate called out to the patrons, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re having a special event here tonight. It’s a spur of the moment, so I’ve made sure we have popcorn, chips, nuts, and awesome stuff. My assistants,”—he gestured at my brothers who were snickering as they emptied the sacks—“will be serving you while we get it all ready.”
Assuming it was a movie or something funny he’d found online, I helped them put popcorn into the small plastic bowls they’d brought with them and then handed them out to each table.
Setting up a projector on the bar, Tate aimed it at a blank wall. “You may remember that not too long ago, Rebels was attacked by a psychotic arsonist. We installed security cameras everywhere during the refurbishment so that no areas of the bar were left blind, apart from the bathrooms. This means that when my sister and her friends had a girl’s night in, kicking back and having a couple of drinks,” he snorted, “we got footage of their antics.”
Oh. My. Fuck!
“So, with great pleasure, I present to thee a compilation of their best moments,” he announced, and I watched in horror as the footage started to play on the wall.00.10s into the video
“Oh shit, like in Pitch Perfect! We should do a cappella. Let’s try.” The sound of a screeching opera singer, a demented baritone, and Beau making ‘ooch, ooch, ooch, ooch’ noises filled the room.
“You’re killing it, lady,” Sadie howled. “A choo, choo.”
Then, for some reason, we dropped the a cappella idea and started walking around the room, making random noises.
Until…
“You know what would be even more bettererer?” Sadie squealed. “If we added in Irish dancing. You know, like that Lord of the Rings stuff.”
Beau and I looked at each other in drunken confusion, then pulled our phones out of our pockets to look up what she meant.
Apparently, drunken minds didn’t get hung up on the differences between Lord of the Rings and Lord of the Dance because moments later, we were in a line kicking our legs around and bouncing in circles as we tried our hands at a cappella again with a dance that looked like we were being tazed.