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“Is this Rob’s family?” Declan asked as he took the picture.
“We’ve always wondered about him, you know? My uncle left Brenda for a few years at a time, but he always came back. It was back and forth like that, until at some point, about twenty years ago, he stayed…. Now they’re stronger than ever. It was right after the twins were born.” Jessie pointed at two girls who were the spitting image of his Bree.
Bree’s half sisters seemed to be around twenty years old. His eyes traveled the picture, and he counted three guys and two girls—the twins. My God, what had Rob Walker been up to all these years?
“Are you sure I can take this?” he held up the picture.
“It’s okay. It’s the least I can do for your partner. If she’s really family—I want to stay in touch with her. She saved our lives today. No matter what people say…”
“Thank you. I’m leaving you my card. I know you’ve discussed with my fellow officers to call them if you need any help in filing charges against your husband. But you can call me night or day with questions about how to go from here, okay?”
Jessie’s eyes teared up again, and she nodded.
“And I don’t think its entirely following protocol for me to give you my card, but I’m involved on a personal level. My girl… she’s my partner’s sister. I’m meeting their family tonight for Christmas Eve.”
“Your girl? That would make her also my cousin.”
Declan nodded.
“How many siblings does she have?” Jessie asked before someone called her name. It seemed like her family had arrived to take over from here.
“My girl has four sisters.”
“Oh, when my cousins find out, they—”
“Please,” Declan urged. “Let’s give it a moment before we go spread the word, okay? I don’t know how everyone is going to take this. Let’s meet up after the dust is settled. Also, with you and…”
He let his words trail. Not wanting to mention her husband. But he wouldn’t let these strangers anywhere near his Bree anytime soon. Not now she was carrying their babies.
Jessie seemed nice enough. But he’d know from experience with other cases, one could never know. Jessie could take her husband back, and he wouldn’t let Bree anywhere near that fucker.
“Okay,” Jessie said, letting out a frustrated breath.
“But I felt that my other cousins need to know about this too,” she added and gave a quick nod in the picture's direction.
“You’re right, but please let them have Christmas before we drop this bomb on their doorstep.”
Jessie nodded and took out her phone. She dialed Dec’s number.
“Now you have my number too. Call me if you’d like to set something up. I’ll be concentrating on Liv and whatever is going to happen to her father. But maybe in a few months, we could arrange something?”
“Let’s stay in touch. Okay? I wish you all the best.” He nodded at her watery smile and turned around.
How was Bree going to handle this news about her father? Stress isn’t good for the babies. Shit. He needed to talk to Bree before Cait would.
Bree opened the door to a deliciously fresh smelling Declan, leaning into her doorway. Dressed in his signature dark blue jeans, black button-down shirt, he’d topped it off with his leather jacket.
“Hey.”
He smiled and said, “Hey, Love.”
The flutters in her belly took over the minute he’d texted he would pick her up early today. He had dodged all her questions. His only reply was that he needed to talk to Bree before they would spend Christmas Eve with her family tonight.
Throughout the day, she’d convinced herself he must have picked Christmas Eve to tell her he loved her. And this time, he would tell her he loved her in the same way she loved him.
She’d spent the past two hours in and out of the bathroom. She’d re-dressed several times until Gwenn finally picked out this sexy, mini wrap dress with fluted sleeves. Bree had left it hanging in her closet because of its color: bright red. But Gwenn insisted it didn’t matter Bree would clash with her mother's ruby interior.
Declan tugged at a curl from Bree and gave her lips a sweet kiss. After backing her up against the nearest wall, he closed the door behind him and took her cheeks in between the palm of his hands.
