“If he ever gets back,” Blake says with a devilish smirk. “He’s been loving pretending to be the mouse in their little game.”
“Well, if he’s not back tonight, then I’ll be going to get him and he won’t likeactuallybeing the mouse.” The threatfalls just a little bit flat, but I still wouldn’t want to be Duffy in that scenario.
Still, his absence means we don’t even attempt to tell Mac and Blake about the whole Harrison and Eian being cousins thing, and that means I’m a nervous wreck for the whole meal.
Until I hear a car pull up outside and then I’m sprinting again.
I hear her giggle before I’m even out the door, and stupid tears spring to my eyes, making it look all blurry when I see Bran’s back leaning into the SUV.
He gets Maggie out of her chair, and I know it’s only been like two days, but I still missed her so fucking much. I run to them and wrap my arms around both of them.
“Oh, hey,” Bran says, his tone surprised and uncertain but not uncomfortable, so I keep my head resting against his shoulder and stare at my girl.
Her dark eyes are bright with happiness and her cheeks are round and rosy.
“Look at you.” The Irish lilt of that voice is so warm I can’t help but look behind me.
I can see it.
Eian has her gray eyes, her nose—though his hasobviously been broken more than a few times—but her smile is all Harrison.
“It’s so nice to meet you, lad. Your girl’s a treasure.”
Oh, god, she sounds like the most perfect grandma in the world. I look back at Maggie and kiss her cheek.
“Hey, dimples, I missed you.”
Without thinking about it, I lean up and kiss Bran’s cheek too.
“Thank you so much for taking care of her,” I whisper.
“Of course. Here.” He passes her over to me and after another quick squeeze, I walk over toNan.
“It’s really nice to meet you too, ma’am. Thank you so much for taking care of Maggie. I can tell she loved hanging out with you two.”
“Not a worry,” she says, waving that away with a sentimental smile at my girl. “You had an interesting night,” she says, and there’s humor in her eyes now.
I almost saylike you wouldn’t believe, but if anyone would, it’d be her. The Irish girl who crossed the Atlantic looking for her brother and found love.
“I sure have, ma’am.”
“Now stop that,” she chides gently. “Call me Nan, as everyone does.”
I smirk at her and nod.
“All right, Nan. Are you guys hungry? Celly made a feast for lunch.”
They agree, and we walk back to the front door together, where Eian is waiting with his smile that I realize is just for us, just for his family.
19
COLBY
“I can’t stop staring at her,” I whisper while Eian and I watch Maggie sleep later that night.
“Why don’t you bring the crib into the room so you can keep staring all you want?” Eian says it in the most reasonable and logical tone, but that’s not a common-sense thing. I turn to look him in the eyes because I need to make sure he’s telling me the truth when I ask this question.
“You wouldn’t mind that?”
