I adjust my arms to hold him securely and stare down at his scrunched-up face.
It should scare me how much I already love this little baby, and he’s not even mine. It makes me wonder how it will feel to hold my own child in my arms.
Ronan leans against the wall, watching me with a rare smile on his lips.
“It’s pretty amazing, right? Wait until it’s your own child.”
“I think I could actually do this, that I could be a good dad.” I glance up at my brother.
“You’ll be an amazing father, trust me. But not as amazing as me.”
I huff a laugh. “Why has everything got to be a competition?”
“Because we’re Sullivans. It’s in our blood.”
“Good luck, Nico. You’re going to need it,” I whisper to my nephew, and Ronan chuckles.
Holding Nico in my arms helps me relax for the first time all night.
There’s something so mesmerizing about watching him start to drift off to sleep.
I never imagined I could feel so protective over something so small and fragile, and yet I do. It feels as natural as breathing which gives me hope for when my own child is born.
Ronan lingers for a while until Nico starts to fuss again.
“Someone is ready for a feed. I hope Ciara managed to get some sleep. I feel awful having to wake her up so often.”
“Who knew you were capable of so many feelings?”
Ronan scowls as he looks from me to his son still in my arms. “Just because you’re holding my son doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass.”
“Oh, yeah? Want to test that theory?”
But then Nico goes from softly fussing to full-on wailing, and I practically thrust the screaming baby into Ronan’s arms.
He chuckles. “Amateur.”
Hours pass by in silence,broken only by the quiet hum of the machines and the occasional sound of footsteps out in the hallway.
The room is still dark when the door opens, and my eyes snap open, my hand instantly reaching for my gun.
In my half-asleep state, it takes me a second to realize that it’s not Ronan coming to check on Cormac again, but rather a doctor I have never seen before.
I get to my feet. “What are you doing?”
My instincts scream at me that something is off from the way the doctor flinches at my approach. Granted, I can be intimidating, but his skittish manner does little to convince me that he’s supposed to be here.
“I’m, uh… just…”
“I asked you a question. Answer it.”
“I-I’m just checking his vitals.”
“You don’t seem so sure.” I narrow my eyes as I take in the slightly too-small white coat and the badge that is clipped to the pocket that quite clearly has a picture of someone that isn’t him.
Panic flashes across the man’s face as he realizes his error.
He bolts for the door, and I immediately go to chase after him, but then my stomach drops.
