She entered Imogen’s room and found the little doll with a bumper lip and big tears dripping down her red cheeks.
“Well now, Imogen, that’s not a happy face. We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?” Gray crooned, which thankfully had the effect of stopping further tears from falling.
Nothing like being thrown into the deep end. Taking a deep breath, Gray put on a confident smile and proceeded to introduce herself to Ciar’s daughter.
“Who has time to be a fussy pants on such a pretty day? Huh?” Gray booped her nose, earning a gummy gurgle and smile.
Not too shabby, Miss MacGregor.
“When I sold you out to Ciar, I admit that I didn’t foresee this outcome,” Mags smirked. “You have to tell me how Ciar and Cannon got on.”
“You are a,” Gray stopped before cursing over the head of the baby in her arms, “b-i-t-c-h.” She would have said more, but her phone began to ring. Ciar. It had been over four hours since he’d left for the hospital.
She answered, “Hey.”
“Hey, baby,” he said softly. “Christ, I miss you.”
Her poor, stupid heart flipped over at the sentiment. Because Mags and Bébhinn were grinning at her like maniacs, it was clear they’d overheard Ciar. She glared at them and made shooing motions with the arm not holding Imogen. They squeezed into a single chair across from the couch instead.
“Assholes,” she mouthed. For Ciar, she asked, “How’s Tina?”
“She tore a ligament in her knee, but not severely enough to require surgery. As it is, she’ll need plenty of bed rest, elevation, and icing. After that, she’ll graduate to crutches.”
“Are you able to bring her home?” Look at her, a handful of hours, and she was referring to his home as hers.
“She has to stay overnight because she hit her head pretty hard. They want to monitor her for at least one night. I’vearranged for Dad to pick her up tomorrow and bring her home. I wondered if Bébhinn might ask her mother if she knew of a place to hire a nurse to stay with Tina for a couple of weeks until she can get around on crutches, though the nurse mentioned she might prefer a walker for stability.”
“Bébhinn’s here. I’ll ask her to call Rowan.” She looked down at Imogen, who was lying in her lap, her head on Gray’s knees, playing with a toy and kicking her legs.
It had taken all of a minute to fall in love with the baby girl. She was delicate and lovely with blonde wisps covering her head. Her mom had once told her that she thought Gray’s hair would never grow past wisps like Imogen’s, and then it happened overnight, and she had hair for days.
Diaper changing was an experience, especially when she pooped in the fresh diaper right away. Changing a poopy diaper was an adventure she hadn’t been ready for. At least she was getting a crash course before her baby was born.
The bottle was easy-peasy because Imogen was an old pro at the eating thing. She would fuss until she was in a position she deemed worthy, and that was that. She googled how to burp while Imogen finished her bottle. The search also revealed that Gray had made two ounces too many. Imogen hadn’t complained.
She sent her mother a picture of Imogen smiling in her lap and explained about Tina, Ciar’s trip, and that she’d agreed to stay here and help out.
Her response was immediate.
Mom: I’ll start packing your things. Mom and Dad just flew in, so I can use their jet. Mom said she is coming too. Don’t roll your eyes. Your grandmother heard the words baby and decorating. Between me, Mom, Raven, River, and Rowan, you can relax and take care of Imogen and finish school. See you soon.
Mom: Call your dad when you can. He’s upset and pre-mantrum.
Apparently, in less time than it took to sneeze, the word was out that she was ensconced in Ciar’s flat. Mags had been studying the two-story for inspiration for her embroidery, while Bébhinn had been nonstop texting and talking on the phone with her mom and aunts.
Gray felt like she was on a never-ending roller-coaster. She didn’t even know what would happen after a week. No matter what, the babies would need perfect rooms at Ciar’s, whether she was here or not. He was still their father, and Gray wanted them to have the best.
Ciar cleared his throat over the phone. “That would be a big help,” he admitted about Bébhinn calling her mom. “I’m leaving here in about thirty minutes. Can I pick food up for everyone?”
Gray could tell he was nervous that she would suddenly change her mind. She wouldn’t, but she was definitely more comfortable discussing dinner plans than the future.
Mags, who must have the ears of a greater wax moth—one of many facts Gray learned over the years from Blair—said, “Get us a feast from Gray Eyes. You know how I like my steak.” She added the last with a grin and wink for Gray.
Bébhinn asked her to put Ciar on speaker. “Hey, Ciar, you’d better get plenty, the guys are coming over too.”
“Of course, free food would bring them round. I’ll call the chef and have it delivered. Take me off speaker, Gray.”
Mags stood and scooped Imogen off her lap and went to the kitchen, Bébhinn following. “Okay, you’re off.”
