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“Arms.” He holds out the sleeves, and his ability to put me together launches butterflies in my chest.
It’s like he’s dressed plenty of women before. Men like him undress women and don’t give a damn how to put clothes on.
“Wow. That’s…” He fights for something to say about the dress.
“Ugly, I know,” I finish for him with the only word to describe the cheap, linen, maxi dress with wide, white and beige stripes.
I push past him and kick off the jail-issued flip flops since my crocks went missing. From the closet, I grab a pair of green tennis shoes that Cormac saw no value in selling.
I sit on the bed and gasp when Darragh lowers to one knee to put them on me.
Tears well up when I realize my feet are swollen from retaining water. He pulls the laces out, giving my feet room to breathe.
“Thank you.” I stand up with his help but spin around the room, dazed.
It’s striking to be leaving here again. Twenty-four hours ago, I ran out the door and didn’t look back, hoping I’d never see it again.
The memories of this place haunt me.
“You’re welcome.” Darragh’s cologne reminds me of his maleness and sophistication while I’m unraveling at the seams. “It’s going to be all right.”
“I can’t imagine how.”
“It will be.” Darragh nods. “I promise. I’ll see to it.”
When he leaves with my clothes jammed into Cormac’s duffle bag, I follow him like a puppy.
The door slamming behind me knocks reality into me. I’m homeless. Well, I guess I was already homeless. Living here, I had a roof over my head, but it was never a home.
I get back into Darragh’s limo. Dressed in non-jail-issued clothes, my face cleaned, and teeth brushed, I consider the next few minutes.
“Where are we going?” I ask when Darragh doesn’t instruct the driver where to go.
The guy just pulls out of the motel parking lot and takes off down the street.
“The airport,” Darragh mumbles, typing into this phone.
“What?” Rage and fear tear through me like an assassin’s bullet. “No!”
I attempt to jump over him and open the limo door, but my protruding baby belly lands me clumsily on his lap.
He holds me there, his hands on my stomach.
Our eyes lock in a nerve-tingling stare, and my heart beats differently under his penetrating gaze.
“What are you doing?” he snaps. “Were you going to jump out of a moving car with my baby?”
His words slap me in the face.
“Your baby?”
He bites his bottom lip before answering.
“Cormac is my identical twin. We share DNA. That makes your baby, technically my baby, too. Biologically, really.”
“I’m not going back to Astoria.” Dread chokes me like a wave pulling me under. “I can’t.”
“No shit, you’re not,” he bites out, but his warm hands settle around my large stomach. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rough with you. I didn’t want you falling out of the limo.”
