Liam leapt to his feet. He stared at Declan, eyes wide with shock and dismay.
"Are you out of your goddamn mind?" he demanded.
"No," Declan replied calmly.
"Bloody hell, man," Torin groaned, running both hands back through his short blonde hair.
He leaned back against the couch, heels of his hands pressed to his closed eyes. Rowan was silent but troubled, his long legs stretched across the ottoman. Declan stayed where he was, relaxed in an overstuffed armchair.
Only Liam seemed unable to stay still. He grabbed a bottle of Jameson off the coffee table and took a swig straight from the bottle as he started to pace.
"Declan, this is...." Torin shook his head. "I dunno about this one."
"He'd rip our throats out for just speaking on it," Rowan agreed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"If we're lucky," Lia……
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