“Killian!”Claire hollered up the stairs, holding a now awake baby in her arms. “Can you get milk?”
My soon to be brother-in-law walked down the stairs wearing his leather jacket and jeans, grinning at my sister. “Me and Eliza can manage with what milk you’ve got.”
“You’re disgusting,” Claire said. “Bring back milk. And chocolate. In less than five minutes, else baby number two will never happen, nor will any practice for it.”
He gave her a wicked look and left me with my no longer grumpy sister.
“You don’t mean that,” I said. “After everything you’ve said about the sex, there’s no way you’d cut off any appendage to spite your face.”
Claire snorted. “True. And he knows it. He just knows which buttons to press. Do you want anything else to eat?” We’d just polished off steak and sides, cooked by Killian as my sister couldn’t be let anywhere near a kitchen unless it only contained a microwave.
“I’m stuffed. I have a dress I need to get in tomorrow as well.”
She looked me up and down and shook her head. “Payts, you’ve lost weight. You didn’t need to lose it in the first place. Get some fucking curves back else you’ll start to fall through gaps. How about a glass of something red and alcoholic?”
“I’d feel mean,” I said. She was still breastfeeding and her alcohol intake was limited.
“I wouldn’t if it was the other way around but I’m not going to persuade you too hard. What’s the dress like for tomorrow? I’m still wearing mums-r-us.”
I prepared myself for another diatribe on designs for breastfeeding mothers, but
my phone began to ring, the tone Ava’s. I frowned. She’d said she was out on a date so she wouldn’t be able to join us at Claire’s. I hadn’t made a big deal of my actual birthday. Seph was on a date and my parents were having a meal with one of my father’s ex-colleagues, my other brothers were with their partners except Callum, who was travelling from the back of beyond where he’d been doing something vet-like with a tiger.
“You okay?” I said, my sister-sense tingling.
“I’m at Cases bringing stuff in for tomorrow and I’ve done something really stupid.” She sounded a cross between mortified and amused.
“What is it? Is Owen there?”
“I’ve knocked over the book display as you walk in, you know the one that’s made of piled up books? It’s everywhere, Payts. You have a photo of it—can you come and help me sort it?”
I groaned. This wasn’t how I wanted to spend my birthday, especially if there was a chance Owen was there. I didn’t know what to say to him still or how to go about starting something I was so scared of. I didn’t know why I was scared though and that was part of my conflict. Owen was like the sea, he ebbed and flowed consistently, he was passionate and calm and made me feel alive but safe at the same time. I was still undecided and at the same time my indecision was leaving him out to dry. He deserved another chance. I deserved another chance. But my fear was providing a boundary bigger than a full-on national security road block to trying a relationship with him.
“Please, Payton,” Ava said. “I haven’t got a clue what to do and I know you’re only at Claire’s. Please come and help.”
I closed my eyes and prayed for the patience to not kill my sister. It wasn’t the first time I’d sent the same prayer and so far I hadn’t been arrested for murder. “Okay. I’ll come. But then you’re buying me a margarita at the Cellar Bar.” I wasn’t dressed for anything else and I had no intention of getting changed.
“Thank you. I know it’s your birthday. Thank you. I don’t want Owen to be angry.” She was laying it on a little thick and I wondered what else she was after me to do.
“Owen’s never angry,” I said, then remembered how we first met. I’d enraged him then and had mentioned it several times since, loving his uncomfortable reaction. “Be there in about thirty.”
Claire hovered nearby, murmuring to Eliza about silly aunts and crazy uncles. “What’s Ava done?”
“Knocked over a display. I’m going to help her sort it out. Sorry to bail,” I said, scraping my hair back and pulling a hair tie from my pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Are you sure you don’t fancy some retail therapy tomorrow afternoon?”
She shook her head. “I promised Killian I’d go to lunch with his brother and Katie. They can’t make tomorrow night as they haven’t got a sitter.”
“I forgive you,” I said, kissing my niece and hugging my sister. There was something about her excuse that sounded hollow, but for all I knew her and Killian had an afternoon of kinky sex planned. Unlikely with a two-month-old, but you never knew. “See you tomorrow.”
The walk to Cases in Covent Garden was about half an hour from Claire’s and it was a fine evening so I didn’t bother with the tube. My head was plugged with thoughts of Owen and what to do, as I’d be seeing him tomorrow, with my family as a shield. I didn’t have to be on my own with him or have the conversation that I knew we needed to have.
I wanted him. I wanted his heat and his touch. I wanted his words and his laughter. I wanted all of him and I could deal with his omission. It didn’t show him to be an idiot; it just proved that none of us were perfect. There had been no bullshitting or trying to talk his way out of it, just the truth and that I could live with.
Missing him wasn’t something I’d accounted for. Not just the sex, but being able to talk to him and knowing I had someone to speak to other than my family who was primarily concerned about me and was interested in me. I missed having someone to just talk rubbish with or laugh at stupid things like daft greetings cards and random jokes. And I did miss his body; the feel of his skin against mine, his heat next to me in bed and how he’d wake me in the middle of the night, driving me mad with want and need.
Cases’ front lights were off; the display I thought Ava had been referring to still standing neatly near the door. I tapped on the glass and saw movement, but it wasn’t my little sister, it was a six foot four, broad shouldered, rugby playing bookstore owner.
“Ava?” I shouted, knowing exactly what was happening here and trying not to believe it was. “Ava! Where the fuck are you? The display’s fine…”
