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“Aye.”
“How’s the mum doing?”
“Sucking it up. The dad’s toast. Can’t take seeing his wife in pain.”
“We were all there. We know it will be fine.” I glance at Ewan, wishing I’d found him sooner and told him I was pregnant so I wouldn’t be in the position I’m in today. Closing my eyes, I push the regret away. “Tell Mum I miss her, and tell the new mummy it will all be worth it.”
“Good night, Darc. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Dad.”
“Good night?” Ewan stares at me.
“Ferry service is suspended due to the storm. High winds up there. He’s staying overnight.”
“I see.” His dark eyebrows pinch together.
“That’s good news, sort of. You don’t have to worry about fixing the bed right now.” I look up, hearing the lash of rain beating down on the roof heavier now. “The bad news, however…”
“Bad news?”
“With this kind of rain, James’s bedroom will start leaking, too.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ewan
WithSadieinbedand Darcy taking a shower, I pace the living room, figuring out how to get the name of the wee one’s father out of her.
Darcy deserves a chance at a happy life with a man who will take care of her and give her more children. Kieran needs sons. The match makes sense, but he doesn’t need a headache. Not that either Callum or Sadie’s father, whoever the hell that is, will follow her to New York. I just need to know who he is, consult with my brothers, and figure out how to handle him.
He’s not in the picture, which means the piece of shite made his decision years ago. Scumbag, leaving Darcy to do all of this herself. I’ll make sure the uselessgowldoesn’t have any parental rights.
Shaking that anger away, I catch framed photographs on the fireplace mantle. Most are of Sadie. God, she was a gorgeous baby. In a picture of Darcy holding her, she’s wearing a dress with puffy sleeves that comes up to her elbow.
I notice something above her left wrist. A tattoo. Something I wasn’t expecting. I think back to the last twenty-four hours, and Darcy’s always covered her arms. I look closer and see three stars. The vivid memory slams into me.
My one-night stand five years ago. A young woman with a cat, moon, and stars tattoo on her wrist.
Fear rakes through me, and I spin around looking for other photos. Perhaps on that trip to Italy she mentioned, she’s wearing something that will reveal more of her tattoo.
I spot a shelf of leather-bound photo albums, and in between, I catch a hardcover book with the spine that says…
Amalfi Coast.
I finger the book off the shelf, and on the cover is a photo of Darcy leaning on a spindle terrace overlooking the crystal blue water in a stunning red dress. Tanned skin, thin straps, low cut, high slit. Her tiny waist and full breasts make her a goddess.
There on her wrist, the coal-black cat sits in a crescent moon with those stars above, and I feel sick to my stomach.
I thumb through the book for more photos, hoping I’m seeing things, when Darcy walks in the room, again wearing a sweater that covers her arms. I toss the book and storm up to her, yanking her sweater up her left wrist. Stars peek out, and she jumps back.
“It’syou. From the night at Carney’s.” I stare at her hair, realizing the bleach-blonde look she had going on wasn’t her real color. But it was edgy as fuck, and I loved it. At the time. “When were you going to tell me?”
Startled, she squirms in my hold, the resistance turning me the fuck on. “Um.” She gently pushes the sleeve down, rubbing her skin.
“Did I hurt you?”
She pulls back, and I let her go. “You’re worried about Kieran not treating me good, look at you!”
