Page 6

“Did you— Do you love him?” Killian asks, and the question makes my stomach twist.

“Not like you mean, no. I thought I did, when I was younger, but I was in a shitty situation and I mistook being grateful for the little attention he gave me for being in love. But he gave me Caitlin and James, and he is their dad, even if he’s not the dad I wish he was. Was he …?” I trail off, because I almost don’t want to know. I just feel like I need to. “Was he a better dad to you, at least?”

Killian drums his fingers against his coffee cup, and I can tell he’s weighing up his next words before he speaks. “Yes and no. In a lot of ways, we were lucky. Our family has never struggled with money, and my mom stayed home with us when we were kids. She’s a really involved mom, even now. And we have a huge extended family, so we always had people around us, even if Dad wasn’t around much. And when he was, he wasn’t reliable.” Anger flashes through his eyes again. He has thirty-three years of Dom letting him down. I only have eight. “Ronan and Fallon struggled with it a lot when they were younger. Fallon, especially. She still does. My mom has been resigned to who he is for a long time, I think. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.”

“What about you?”

He blinks, surprised. “Me?”

“Yeah. How do you feel about it all?”

Killian frowns at the table. “Honestly? I’m angry. For how he wasn’t around for Ronan and Fallon. For what a shit husband he is to my mom, how he hasn’t been there for her treatment. But I still never expected this from him.”

I’m not sure if he means his dad sleeping with someone so young, having other kids, or hiding them. Regardless, I’m at the center. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice cracking.

Killian looks up at me, his brow furrowed. “I know we don’t know each other well, but I’d like you to promise me something.”

“What?” I ask, confused by the seemingly random change of subject.

“Never do that again. Never ever apologize for him, Scarlett. The only person who should be apologizing here is him, okay?”

Oh. Not a subject change, then.

I know myself, and I know that’s not a promise I’d be any good at keeping, so I just nod, and Killian smiles like he sees right through it.

“I’d like to stay in town for a while and get to know the kids, if it’s okay with you. And them,” he says, surprising me again.

I assumed he’d want to meet them, but sticking around? That’s a whole other ball game. “When you say get to know them, what do you mean by that?”

“You know, just hang out with them. Learn about them. What kinds of things they like to do, what their favorite school subjects are, what kind of ice cream they like—do they like ice cream?”

“They like ice cream,” I confirm. Everything he’s suggesting is easy enough, nothing that would upset the kids. They’re things he should know as their half-brother. But it’s a big step. “What about your mom? You said she’s sick. Don’t you need to get home to her?”

“My siblings are with her, and there are no flights from Calgary to Dublin for a week, anyway. I’d rather stay than figure out a million connections, but I understand if it’s too soon for you. I’d just like to know them.”

He sounds genuine, but I’m not used to bringing anyone new around the kids. He is technically family, though. Who am I to deprive my children of family, when they already barely have a dad?

“Of course you can get to know them,” I say, and a soft, tentative smile lights up his face.

God, I hope I’m not making a mistake.

3

Killian

I lean against my rental car while Scarlett calls her family. Cassandra might have promised her lips are sealed, but I just met the woman, and even I don’t believe her. Clover Pines seems like the kind of town where you sneeze, and everyone knows within the hour.

From an outside perspective, it’s a cute town—fucking freezing, though. I rub my hands up and down my arms, trying to stay warm as I glance back and forth down Main Street. It’s a busy little street, with picturesque stores and places to eat.

Lucky Clover Diner is flanked by a tattoo shop—Pines and Needles—and what looks like a takeout pizza place called Slice o’ Pines. Most of the stores seem to have a clover-, pine-, or luck-themed name, and they’re all decorated for the holidays. Twinkling Christmas lights cover every storefront, and most windows have some kind of inflatable or sign. Piney Paws, the vet clinic, has a giant stuffed goose wearing a Santa costume in the window, and the bookstore, Lucky Spines, has a Christmas tree made of books.

As far as small towns go, I can see this one being a nice place to grow up in. Quiet, but with plenty to do if the flyer-covered noticeboard outside the community center is anything to go by. There’s a man carrying a little girl, so bundled up that she looks like a marshmallow, walking down the street and pointing out all of the Christmas lights. They look happy. The sight of them should be cute, but all it does is piss me off, because I know my dad and I know he’s never taken Caitlin or James on a walk to see Christmas lights.

“The guesthouse is just around the corner. I’ll walk you over.”

I jump at Scarlett’s voice, and she gives me an apologetic smile.

“How’d your parents take things?” I ask as I grab my bag from the trunk and sling it over my shoulder. I didn’t pack for a week—I didn’t plan on staying longer than a couple of hours in town—so I’ll need to find somewhere to buy warmer clothes tomorrow.