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He opened out his hands. “Why would that surprise you? Was I the only one that felt our connection?”
I shook my head slowly and repeatedly. “I felt it. From the first night.” I ran my hands through my knotty mane that hadn’t seen a brush for a day. “That’s why I kept pushing you away. I was overwhelmed by passion. I couldn’t stop wanting to be with you. It was so intense, I lost myself.”
“So you slept with Orson instead.” That sober remark made me feel like he’d just dipped my head in a bucket of cold water.
“We weren’t seeing each other.”
“I know that. But shit, so soon? It fucking hurt, to be honest.”
I nodded. “I regret it more than you can imagine. It was one of those drunken, silly mistakes.”
Cian started to make his gurgling sounds, and I turned to him and smiled. My angst dissolved in an instant. It was like my son had decided to intervene on this merry-go-round of issues that I’d created and steer us onto another course.
Ethan watched his son, and like me, his mouth stretched into a big loving smile. “Can I hold him?”
I stood up. “Of course.”
Ethan went to the crib, lifted the baby, and held him in his arms. Fresh tears welled up in my eyes. This time not from frustration, but from pure love. Father and son. It was a perfect sight.
“You’re good at that.” My voice thickened with emotion.
He made those silly baby sounds that we all do, and my son smiled at him. Warm, heart-swelling tears splashed down my cheeks. It looked like mutual love at first sight as Ethan rocked Cian and kissed his soft little cheek. I pulled out a tissue and wiped my eyes. I was drowning in emotion.
Nevertheless, I sucked it back, knowing that we’d turned a new corner. Ethan would be my son’s father. Cian had a right to know him. Seeing how gentle and loving Ethan was sealed that deal.
“I’d like to introduce him to my family. Officially. Would you allow that? Can he be part of our family too?”
Ethan’s urging gaze searched mine. I couldn’t be so mean to keep my son from his father and family.
“You’re convinced he’s yours?” I tangled my fingers and had to look away because I couldn’t even think straight with Ethan looking so fucking beautiful, especially when he was all raw with emotion.
His glassy gaze rose to meet mine. “I don’t doubt it for one minute.” He buried his nose in his son’s little face. “He smells so fresh. So perfect.”
“Not when he needs changing.” The switch in subject was needed.
“I’m happy to change him if you want.” His face softened into a panty-melting, boyish grin. That same expression had made me a swooning wreck all the way back when we were teenagers.
How is this going to work? How can I be around him without wanting to claw at those ripped jeans?
Chapter 28
Ethan
Mysonwasbeautiful.As I played with his tiny fingers, I never wanted to let him go. I kept gulping down the lumps in my throat. My heart was doing things to me I’d never experienced before.
Looking rattled, Mirabel stood by and watched. Whenever our eyes met, she looked like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Then she would look at our son, and her face would break into a sunny smile.
I placed him down in his crib, and Mirabel helped adjust his blankets.
“He sleeps all the time.”
“That’s a good thing, I imagine.” I kept looking at Cian, tilting my head and smiling or making silly sounds I’d never heard myself make before.
“Yep. He sleeps through the night. My aunt Hermione tells me that I’m blessed.”
Mirabel became that childhood friend that I used to knock around. It must have been the mention of her eccentric aunt. As children, we’d sometimes visited her quaint little cottage, mainly for her delicious gingerbread men and women. She told us she didn’t want to appear sexist. Not that I’d understood what that meant at seven.
“Is your aunt still stirring that cauldron?”
