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Dad starts walking towards the kitchen table. “From who?”
“Not a lift. I paid for a rideshare.”
A small grin of comprehension precedes him settling in his kitchen seat. “You had sweet little Gabby worried, you know?”
Their loving her like she’s their daughter is the last thing I need right now.
Oh.
A daughter.
I know the likeliness of what Harper’s having isn’t a daughter, but what if it is?
What if I fucked up my first chance at being a father already by letting down her mother while she’s still…baking?
Giving my forehead a concerned rub causes Dad to grunt. “Oh, I know that move.”
Our eyes momentarily lock.
“A shealbhú ar nóiméad.”
The command to hold on a moment receives an unbothered blink.
Because where am I going to go?
What the bloody hell else do I have to do but sit around and wait for whatever it is he wants to show me or tell me?
It’s not like I have a wife or fiancée to rush home to tend to.
God, I might not even have a bloody girlfriend anymore considering how irate she was.
Ringing sounds appear just briefly before we’re talking to someone’s ear. “Dia dhuit.”
“We don’t wanna talk to your ear, Raff,” Dad gripes as if he didn’t just do something similar two minutes ago.
The second he pulls the phone back to show his face, we’re offered a wide-mouth grin. “Well, look at you ugly bastards!”
It’s almost uncanny how all my uncles look so similar.
Biggest difference between him and Dad is size and gray hair.
Dad’s put on a bit more weight living in the states – mostly muscle – yet still maintains his naturally light locks while Uncle Raff is slimmer and almost completely gray.
Other than that, everything else is eerily similar.
Square jaws.
Green eyes.
Mischievous crooked grins.
The whole bloody O’Clery clan looks like one stunt double in different stages of his life.
“A shealbhú ar nóiméad,” Dad states again to which Uncle Raff rolls his eyes.
Asking for what or why isn’t needed courtesy of another ringing sound occurring.
Much like Uncle Raff picked up quick, so does Uncle Rían, except instead of talking to his ear first, we directly see his face. “There is a pint with my name on it. This better be bloody good.”
