“Fáilte abhaile. Welcome home.”

“Thanks. Ah…”

“Come in, come in. We’re all in the kitchen or out the back. We’ve enough food to feed the army we are, and thought we’d have a picnic, as you’ve brought such nice weather.”

Eve cast a glance up at the sky, and supposed there were degrees of nice weather, depending where you stood on the planet.

“I’ll have one of the boys fetch your bags and take them up to your room. Oh, it’s good to see your faces. We’re all here now. We’re all home.”

They were fed and feted, surrounded and questioned. Eve managed the names and faces by imagining them all as suspects on a murder board-even the ones who toddled and crawled.

Especially the one who kept toddling over and trying to claw its way into her lap.

“Our Devin’s a lady’s man.” His mother-Maggie-laughed as she hauled him up, and in the way of some women, lodged him effortlessly on her hip. “Da says you’re off to Italy next. Connor and I splurged on our honeymoon and went to Venice. It was brilliant.”

The kid on her hip babbled something and bounced.

“All right, my man, since we’re having a holiday. I’m after getting him another biscuit. Would you like one?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

A moment later, Eve felt an itch between her shoulder blades. Shifting, she saw a boy staring at her. She recognized him-the Brody family green eyes, the solar system of freckles-from when the family had come to New York the previous Thanksgiving.

“What’s the deal?” she demanded.

“I’m wondering if you’ve got your stunner.”

She hadn’t worn the harness, but she’d strapped her clutch piece to her ankle. Old habits die hard, she supposed, just as she supposed Sinead and the rest of the females wouldn’t appreciate her showing the kid the weapon at a family picnic.

“Why? Somebody need to go down?”

He grinned at that. “My sister, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“What’s the offense?”