I opened the paper bag and decided to eat my embarrassment away.
* * *
Just over an hour later I was at Claire and Killian’s house, a four-storey monstrosity that Killian had bought a couple of years previously. There was the usual amount of security before I entered: a camera at the door which I was pretty sure scanned faces and an odd ornament in the porch which I was convinced was a metal detector.
Killian ran a security firm, one that had been started by his elder brother and he’d joined when he’d left the marines. He didn’t talk about his work, nor did he usually ask permission to add a bit of extra security to our lives. The only person who complained on a regular basis was Claire, and that was because she’d spent the past five years complaining about him.
The house was military tidy as usual. There were few ornaments about, neither Killian nor my sister being the type to have tons of crap. Already the place was baby proofed, which knowing Killian, had been a military procedure.
He was Maxwell’s best friend and partner in crime before he became my brother-in-law, meaning I’d known him since I was nine; he’d always been another brother to me. When we found out he’d been seeing Claire at college and they’d somehow resurrected their romance a year ago, I’d been thrilled.
“Morning,” I said to him, fighting back a laugh at the muslin on his shoulder that was covered in spitted up milk. “New accessory?”
“You are so much like your sister,” he said, holding the door open. She’s upstairs. Please don’t let her do too much. She’s meant to be resting as much as she can.
“Noted,” I said. “K?”
“Payton.”
“What do you think of Owen?”
“He’s a good player by the looks of things. Strong and surprisingly quick given his size.”
I tipped my head to one side and inhaled deeply.
“That wasn’t what you meant, was it?”
“Not really.”
“Do I need to have ‘the talk’ with him?”
I knew exactly what he meant. He was offering to threaten to stuff his testicles down his throat and peel them out of his arse if he so much as let me open a door for myself.
“No. I’m not dating anyone at the moment.”
“Then why are you asking?”
I shrugged. “I just wondered what you thought of him. No hidden agenda.”
Killian considered this for a moment before he said, “He’s a good guy. Honest, can take a joke, straightforward. There’s nothing not to like. We’ll see how he handles his beer tonight. You’re coming, aren’t you?”
“That’s interesting. You know for sure someone you met a few days ago is coming out to celebrate the birth of your daughter but you’re not sure about your sister-in-law.” My hands went to my hips and I sassed like the world was ending.
Killian laughed, completely unmoved. “You’re not in our group chat. Neither’s Ava, so don’t get your pants in a twist.”
Footsteps on the stairs made us both look up and my older sister made her way down. She looked tiny still, her short bobbed hair framing her delicate face, her brown eyes looking huge. “Do not say one word about me coming downstairs, either of you. I’ve had a baby. Women do it every day and then carry water on their heads for five miles.”
If any of our brothers had been present they’d have run for the hills with Claire being in permanent hormonal bitch mode. Killian simply looked at her.
“That’s fine. No lifting. Unless it’s Eliza. I’ll make coffee for you both.” He disappeared as if into thin air.
“And it will be decaffeinated. He thinks I haven’t noticed,” she said, heading into the lounge. “Mum and Dad will be here in an hour or so. They’re staying for a couple of nights.”
I sat down on the couch where I’d slept off a horrific hangover, both alcohol and man induced, a few weeks ago. “Mum will be useful. She’ll help you get some sleep.”
Claire nodded. “She will. To be honest, Killian is more than pulling his weight. I’m glad he’s going out tonight though. He’ll probably have a timer set on his phone to check I’m okay every half an hour.”
“Just keep sending him pictures of Eliza.”
