Beers, Lies and Alibis (Warblers Point Series Book 2) by Meghan Quinn Page B

Bradon had some kind of weird and complex feelings for Tipper, but whenever he talked to Bradon about it, he nearly cut Finn’s head off at the suggestion. Bradon refused to acknowledge that Tipper actually was an extremely attractive woman and swore that he wouldn’t go near Tipper, even if someone paid him. Tipper had the same feelings; it was almost comical to listen to them talk about each other. All in all, they hated each other and working with them at the pub at the same time was pure torture.  
    Bradon sidled up next to Finn and said, “Where’s Liam? He doesn’t have Catherine tonight and it’s not the weekend, so why is the uneven-breasted beast here?”
    “Beast? Really, Bradon? You can do better than that. Try cow next time, that will cut me to the core,” Tipper said sarcastically, as she brought more clean cups to the front of the pub.  
    “Seriously, dude…What is she doing here?”
    Finn raked his hand over his face as he turned away from Tipper so his back was toward her now. Finn didn’t like airing out the family’s dirty laundry in front of people, even though Tipper was practically family. He still thought he would give Liam a little bit of privacy.  
    “Liam had to go to the hospital. Something happened with Neala and he couldn’t be here, so if you could please try to get along with Tipper tonight and give me a break from your bickering, it would be appreciated.”
    “Aw, hell. Is Neala okay?”
    It was a rare sighting to see Bradon actually care about anything other than his dick, so Finn was almost shocked at the caring tone in Bradon’s voice.  
    “No clue. Her parents called Liam and he sprinted out of here asking if I could call Tipper to cover.”
    “She didn’t croak, did she?” Bradon said, while chewing on a toothpick.  
    And there was the Bradon he knew and, for some odd reason, loved.  
    “No clue and could you show a little class? Jesus.”
    “What? Am I not allowed to say croaked?”
    Finn was about to respond when the pub door flew open and banged against the wall. Both Finn and Bradon whipped their heads around to see Mary Margaret standing in the doorway with her white frilly apron still tied around her body, her vibrant red hair sticking up on all ends and her coat half on her body and half dangling down.  
    “Ma, what the hell?” Finn asked.  
    “Oh Jesus, Mary and poor old Joseph, is she alright?” Mary Margaret was breathing heavily as she spoke. Finn and Bradon approached her and took in the smeared mascara on her face and blotchy eyes. She looked disheveled and unkempt, which was a very rare occurrence for Mary Margaret; she always had to look her best.  
    Her accent was always extremely thick when she was upset.  
    “Who? Neala?” Finn asked.
    “Of course Neala. Who else…” Mary Margaret paused for a second and then her hand went to her forehead as she leaned against the wall. “Not me baby girl, tell me it’s not me baby girl.”
    Confused, Finn asked, “Fiona? No, she’s fine.”
    Mary Margaret smacked both of her sons on the backs of their heads, causing both of them to whine and rub their heads. “Sweet baby Jesus, don’t ya joke like that.”
    “What? We didn’t joke, ma.”
    “Finn O’Leary, don’t ya dare sass me.”
    Bradon chuckled to the side as they both tried to decipher what the hell their mom was trying to say.  
    “Ma, I wasn’t sassing you. I just was confused. Where’s Da?”  
    Mary Margaret looked around with a confused look on her face. “Well, I’ll be damned. I thought I saw him get in the car.”
    At that moment, Carlin walked in with his clothes unruly and minus one shoe.  
    “Ya crazy-ass woman! What were ya thinking just taking off like that? I barely got me leg in the car before you drove off. Norm down the street had to pick me up from the stoplight at Main from where I flew out of the car. Damn women drivers and their hormones. Tipper, get the old man a jar of Guinness.”
    “Sure, Mr.