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“Sure.” I scoot over. “I have no idea how I smell.”
“You were in jail. I get it.” His hand hovers over my stomach. “Can I feel the baby?”
I take his interest in the baby with caution.
Darragh’s heavy palm sends a feeling of warmth, melting the ice in my veins from months, no years, of Cormac’s abuse and neglect.
“Any bleeding? Spotting?”
“No.” No, Doctor…
“How often does he kick?”
“In the morning… Wait, he?”
“It’s just a guess.” He smiles for the first time. “But you’re carrying low, and you’re still utterly gorgeous. With girls, women tend to carry high and steal their mother’s beauty.”
“You think I’m pretty, looking like this?”
“I see a faint resemblance of what you looked like when I last saw you.” His eyes land on my lips. “You were your father’s seoid.”
“His what?”
“His treasure.”
“That was a long time ago,” I scoff.
“Besides the stress lines on your face, you look healthy.”
“As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t do any more drugs. I promise.”
“I believe you.”
“I tried to eat healthy.”
“A real ultrasound will tell us all we need to know.”
We…
What did I get myself into?
We land in the dark. It’s a starless Seattle night.
I tremble, getting into the back passenger seat of the Escalade waiting for us.
“I’ve never been to Seattle.” My voice quivers from the cold.
Darragh takes off his coat and wraps it around my shoulders. His nose brushes mine, and our eyes lock. A moment sparks between us, the tension charged and confusing.
“Thank you.” I shrink back.
“You’re welcome.” He sounds affected by our moment, too.
We drive for a while until the SUV pulls up to a beautiful house.
I grew up in a mansion, but this is different. It’s not a compound like Papa’s sprawling estate. The entire block is filled with similar giant Victorian houses boasting wraparound porches and looks like a friendly neighborhood. I get a glimpse of why Darragh prefers to live like this and not behind ten-foot iron gates and guns back home.
We’re the same in so many ways.
