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“It was a joke, saying mom, because you’re my stepmom now.”
“Oh!” Lilly set her plate down on the table and sank into the chair beside his father. “Liam, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
Liam put his hand on her cheek and kissed her. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. They have to find out sooner or later.”
The shock wore off a little as Sullivan watched them. He knew Lilly well enough to know she’d always wanted kids. He just hadn’t imagined his father would want to start all over with a baby, but they looked thrilled.
He gave a low whistle. “Dad, you dirty dog. Shotgun wedding at your age. I’m impressed.”
His father frowned at him. “Knock it off.”
That made him grin. “You still have the dad frown. You’re all ready to go.”
“I hope it’s a girl,” his dad said dryly. “Boys are a pain in the ass.” He reached for a brownie off of Lilly’s plate.
She swatted his hand.
“Ow, damn, Lil.”
“Well, those are mine. The baby wants them.”
“The baby is the size of a pinhead. I’ll go get you another one, I promise. I just want a bite.” He gave her a charming smile.
“Just a little bite,” Lilly relented. She lifted the brownie to Liam’s lips.
His father nibbled off of the brownie and her fingers while she giggled, her cheeks pink.
Sullivan was tempted to gag. He was also incredibly jealous.
He wanted what everyone else had. He wanted his person.
And that person was Eddie.
It hit him like a lightning bolt. He couldn’t sit around and wait for her to reach out to him. He had to tell her how he felt. Clearly and thoroughly. In great detail. He had to plead his case, tell her exactly what he had to offer, which was his heart and his soul. His loyalty, his support, his unwavering devotion to her happiness.
Orgasms.
He could definitely offer her that.
“I have to go,” Sullivan said, standing up so fast the chair almost fell over. He steadied it, his heart thumping. He knew what he had to do.
“What? Where are you going?” his father asked. “This is Axl’s wedding. You can’t just disappear.”
“I’ll be back in forty-five minutes. Maybe less. I need to do something.” He held up his hand to ward off further protests. “Cover for me, please.”
His father nodded.
It took him ten minutes to walk to the Hunt residence. He loosened his tie and walked straight up to the front door and knocked. There was no sign of life. The TV looked like it was on, but the house was quiet.
“Mr. Hunt,” he called out, pounding on the door again. “Mr. Hunt, it’s Sullivan O’Toole. I need to talk to you!”
The door flung open and Eddie’s father was standing in the doorway in sweatpants and a Minnesota Wild hockey T-shirt. The full leg cast was gone and he had on a walking boot. His hair was disheveled. It suddenly occurred to Sullivan he was interrupting Eddie at ten on a Saturday night. “Sullivan. Everything okay?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you. I forgot what time it is.” He glanced behind Eddie. “Are you alone? I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” These days everyone was coupled up but him so it seemed like a fair question to ask.
“Just watching TV with my dog. Come on in. Can I get you a beer?”
“Sure, thanks.” Now that he was there, he was full of nervous energy. He followed Eddie to the kitchen. “You’re getting around pretty good with that boot.”
