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“Why the scowl?”
I shrugged at Brennan’s question, then muttered, “Just thought you guys would give me a hard time is all.”
“No point,” he said briskly. “But I’ll admit, I want to meet him.”
“I can’t say the same for him.”
“No?” He winced. “Damn.”
“You ready to be an uncle?” I teased, surprising myself because nothing was funny about this situation. It was simply that his reaction was pretty sweet.
This hardened criminal really wanted to get to know my kid.
Okay, sweet wasdefinitelyrelative. But better Brennan wanting to get to know Seamus than giving me crap.
Of course, I’d be monitoring how the next few hours would go. If they dissed him, disrespected him in anyway, made a move to belittle him, I didn’t give a fuck—I’d find a way to get us out, away from the O’Donnellys. Seamus was cheeky and could backtalk like a pro… if they slapped him, then we were gone.
But his reaction gave me hope, especially as I watched his wince morph into a smirk.
“I was born ready for anything.”
Why didn’t I find that hard to believe?
I moved over to the interconnecting door and tapped on it. Naturally, Shay didn’t wake up.
Rolling my eyes, I knocked again, because he gave me crap about not respecting his privacy if I just walked in, but the little shit could sleep through a nuclear fallout. What was privacy in the face of that?
So I peered inside after I opened the door a sliver, made sure nothing nasty was going down—you never could tell with boys—and when I saw he was a big lump on the bed, taking up far too much room for a fourteen-year-old in the queen size, I muttered, “He’s asleep.”
Brennan cleared his throat as I closed the door. “Leave him. You guys had a late night.”
“You want breakfast?” I inquired, then pointed toward the door Conor was behind and reminded him, “He said he’s hungry.”
“Is it still breakfast at two in the afternoon?” he asked dryly.
I shrugged. “I just woke up, so it’s breakfast for me.”
“I could deal with some eggs. Anyway if we don’t feed Conor, he’ll whine all the way home.” Under his breath, he muttered, “Baby.”
My lips twitched as I headed toward the phone and picked up the room service menu. I always ate the same thing for breakfast when I was in a hotel, so I tossed it at him and said, “Pick your poison.”
He eyed me warily. “Don’t feel like dying today.”
“Well, if it happens, it has nothing to do with me.” Because I got the feeling he thought I was taking this too easily, like I was too accepting and that meant he had to be cautious around me, I decided to drag off his kid gloves straight from the start and explained, “Do you know how long it’s been since I last saw Declan? When it all ended, I mean.”
He frowned at the change of subject. “No. About fifteen years?”
“Fourteen years, five months, two weeks, and eight days.”
That had him blinking. “That’s precise.”
I nodded. “It is. Because do you know how long I’ve known this moment would come? Except, instead of you standing here, I figured it would be Dec?”
He cleared his throat. “Fourteen years, five months, two weeks, and seven days?”
“Exactly.” I reached up and fiddled with one of my earrings. “And that’s why I’m not really upset. Sure, inside I am. I’m all roiled up. I wish there were things I could do, shit I could change, but what’s the point? I’m a big believer in embracing what you can’t change.
“I gave him fourteen years of normalcy, and you guys are going to break that in the span of a few years.” I gulped. “If anything, that’s what hurts, but I’ll try to keep him on the right path—”
