Another sigh escaped him. “Look, if you want to teach them age-appropriate explosive science, stick to baking soda volcanoes, or mints dropped into bottles of diet soda, or something like that. Outside,” he added. “Or hell, how about teaching them baking if you want to work science and math into that?”
“Tryin’ to keep ’em locked into gender stereotypes at this age, are ye?”
He threw back his head and groaned. “Goddammit, Aisling. We’re on the same team. I’m trying to be friends with you, and it’s like you’re building a wall between you and all of us, and I don’t understand why.”
She still wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Just tryin’ to do my feckin’ job, that’s all,” she muttered.
“Okay, fine. Don’t tell me what the fuck’s going on with you. I’m over it. You want a friend? You know where I am.” He waved his hand in a circle at her. “You want to hide behind this bullshit façade, that’s your call, I guess. But my job is to protect Tamsin and those babies. And I’m not going to let anyone—including you—do something to fuck that up, okay?” He pointed at the tote. “No more fucking bombs, no firecrackers, nothing dangerous, nothing to attract undue or unwarranted attention to any of us. Got it?”
She finally nodded.
“Good.” He returned outside. Mateo arched an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything, silent or otherwise.
Aisling
She blew out a long breath as she watched Carl return to the backyard.
Fuck, he’s a spooky one.
Spookily tuned in, that was.
No, she wouldn’t have made an actual bomb in the backyard.
Not a large one, that is. Just a tiny thing that would make a Christmas cracker look like mortar fire in comparison. A little bit of smoke was what she was going for.
And a one-way ticket back to the UK, but apparently Carl was onto her plan.
Last night, she’d frigged herself several times with her legs and free hand wrapped around Tamsin’s pillows, and still it barely offered her any relief.
Not when she knew her mate was on the other end of the country and not there, in her arms.
Aisling dragged the tote out to the garage, swallowing back the urge to scream in frustration.
Of the mental and emotional kind.
I’m mental, all right.
Aisling wasn’t sure how she’d survive not sleeping in Tamsin’s bed and being covered with Tamsin’s scent every night. She wanted Tamsin back, and yet…didn’t. Because if Tamsin was back, it meant another level of self-control she’d have to endure, having the other woman right there and being unable to touch her. Brianna and Da’von would move out in the next few weeks to live with Joaquin and Malyah, and Aisling would take their room.
If Aisling hadn’t already mated with Tamsin by then, that was.
I can’t be lucky enough that she’s into me, can I?
Because her luck was never that good.
Ever.
Evvveerrr.
Then Maisie’s voice filled her head.
“Tell her I love her. And the baby. Tell her to be happy.”
She closed her eyes, hands clenched so hard she knew she might draw blood from her nails digging into her palms.
Maisie’s voice haunted her dreams, her nightmares.
Bloody hell.
