It’s going well, but perhaps not the way we agreed on Sunday morning.
I glance at the clock. It’s almost five. Cleo and Violet are still trying to catch up on the influx of sign-up forms. The way things have transpired financially, I don’t need Nate’s investment.
Bonnie’s meeting our first ever marriage match to see if we can sponsor their wedding. Their love story has been picked up by a local radio station and they’re being interviewed live tomorrow. It would be great publicity for us to get on board as a sponsor, and it would mean they could have the wedding of their dreams. I’m really hoping they’ll go for it.
My phone vibrates on my desk.
Cillian.
Outside
I leap to my feet, waving at the girls as I pass their desks. ‘Don’t stay too late. There’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.’
‘Sure.’ They smile and wave me off.
The moon hangs low in the midnight sky, a silvery orb almost the same shade as Cillian’s stunning irises. He waits with Phoebe, clutching her hand in his. Both their faces light as I step out of the building.
‘Ava!’ Phoebe throws herself at me while Cillian watches on with an expression I can’t read.
I pull the little girl into my arms. She’s bundled up in a pink puffer coat and matching woolly hat and gloves. ‘How are you, sweetheart?’
‘I’m so excited. Sarah Snowden said the ice rink is twice the size as it was last year. Can you skate? Will you hold my hand?’
Cillian’s lips touch my cheek, heating me from the inside out.
‘Yes, I can skate, and yes, I’ll hold your hand.’
‘How was work?’ Cillian asks, running a palm over my lower back.
‘Great. If things keep going the way they have since the party, I won’t need Nate’s investment.’
‘Wow. That’s amazing.’ That palm drops to my ass and squeezes. A million volts of electricity soar across my spine.
We stroll along Grafton Street towards St. Stephen’s Green and through the Christmas markets. Phoebe slips one hand in mine and the other hand in Cillian’s. She swings her arms back and forth with glee. People glance at us, offering smiles and nods. Phoebe’s grin appears to be infectious to just about everyone we pass.
They probably think she’s my daughter.
She’s so adorable, I wish she was. My ovaries are still ticking like a time bomb, especially given the hot mate I’ve found, but he made no promises for the future, only that he’ll try. I know how he feels about marriage, but how does he feel about having more kids?
It’s ridiculously early days to even be thinking this way but Penny Jackson always maintained that when you know, you know.
And I know. The knowledge beats like a familiar base through my body.
But I need to be careful not to scare Cillian off, because even though he seems every bit as smitten with me as I am with him, we agreed to take it slowly. Outside of the bedroom, at least.
Phoebe continues to chat incessantly with the enthusiasm that only a six-year-old can muster as we collect our skates. ‘So, the nativity play is next week. I’d love you to come but we’re only allowed to take two people and Dad and Mam are already going, but I’ll make sure Daddy takes loads of pictures and maybe he can even video the bit where I have the baby Jesus.’
Cillian whispers over Phoebe’s head and shrugs. ‘Speaking of Teagan, it looks like the message has finally ben delivered. She hasn’t showed up unannounced since last week and she texted to ask if she could take Phoebe to stay at her parents’ house tomorrow night.’
‘That’s good, isn't it?’
‘It’s progress. It’s been a long time coming.’
I nod. I can only imagine how hard it is being a single parent, running a business, and trying to explain to a six-year-old where her mother is.
‘Teagan is taking her Friday night too.’
‘For Nate’s stag night?’ My eyes widen. After Nate’s incessant texts, I finally caved and gave him Cillian’s number. Not for a second did I expect Cillian to agree to go on the stag. Then again, that was before things got real between us.
