Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
My apology is a quiet groan as I hear my sister’s muffled complaint. Jaysus, Letty. You pick your fuckin’ moments, I think to myself. I begin to pull away, halting when, from the stairwell, a little voice makes itself heard:
“Uncle Matty, how did you put a baby inside the lady?”
Chapter 23
Ryan
This is awkward. On top of awkward. With a side of awkward.
“So what is it you do, Ryan?” Leticia—or Letty, as Matt calls her—has an accent that bears more than a transatlantic hint. Clodagh, meanwhile, sounds as though she’s from the States.
“I’m a trader at a hedge fund.”
“Wow. Interesting.” Her gaze slides Matt’s way. I’m guessing she’s thinking my job makes me perfect for him, like we’re peas in a pod. Or maybe she’s thinking the opposite, like he needs a stay-at-home wife. Or maybe I should just stop overthinking every goddamn thing, because it’s none of my business. “In London or . . .”
“Oh. New York, though I was offered a position here a month or so ago. It’s just a pity it didn’t work out.” A pity is one way of putting it. And the other is a plain euphemism. I swear I wouldn’t ordinarily be so laid back about this, but for my life being a kind of take-a-ticket shit show currently.
Do I want to stay? Matt asked. I was so excited to be here. The achievement felt immense. Do I want to go back to New York? Not really. It’s not my home. But then, nowhere is.
“Really?” I’m not sure if that’s pity or consternation pinched between her brows. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Maybe she knows what it feels like.
“Thanks,” I murmur, actively keeping my eyes from Matt. My skin still feels shivery when I look at him after our little interaction. “I must have some rights,” he said. And then that line that made me feel like I was about to burst from pleasure. “I did put a baby inside you.”
Lord, the husky timbre of his voice and the suggestion in his delivery. Was I imagining things? It felt like we were about to kiss. And that’s a whole can of dangerous worms. It simply can’t happen, not if I want to stay. And I do want to stay, I realize. I think it would be a good thing.
Modern families come in all guises, and I want my little bean to have more people in her life than just me. People who love her. I could do it on my own, for sure. I’ve done everything else in my life solo. But that doesn’t mean it’s the best way. So I’ll stay here for now. And if things work out, maybe I’ll give birth here.
“How do you two know each other?” Letty asks as the old-fashioned kettle whistles and Matt moves it from his fancy-looking range.
“We met in Manhattan last year.” Just a few months ago, for one glorious night. “At a wedding.”
Her eyebrows lift as she stares at her brother’s back. “You keep your cards close to your chest.”
“What?” he replies, playing ignorant. This probably feels so weird for him too.
“New York,” she says again. Muses, maybe.
As Matt turns, a whole but silent conversation seems to pass between the two. Like I said, awkward, topped with awkward, with a side of awkward.
What am I supposed to do in this situation? Or even say?
If I’d known his family was coming, I might not have agreed to move in with him right at that moment. If for no other reason than to save us this . . . situation. There’s the kid. Clodagh. And her little wiggling ears. Though that feels like a bullet dodged right now as she watches TV. Cartoons seem like a pretty good distraction for a five-year-old. But I feel like an interloper right now. Though Leticia seems nice enough, her reception seemed tinged with a light frost. Or maybe I’m imagining things.
I wonder what she’ll think when she finds out about our little bean. Or the fact that I’m moving in. She’ll probably think I’m a freeloader out to trap her wealthy brother.
Maybe I should insist on a tenancy agreement and have some paperwork drawn up. Something to reassure them both. All?
I usually make a point of not giving a flying fuck for the opinions of others, but this baby will be part of their family. I want them to not hate me, at the very least.
I hope they’re a nice family. They sure raised a good man.
“I didn’t realize I had to keep you informed of my movements.” Matt pours hot water into a floral china cup the size of a soup mug. He glances my way and winks and—dammit—my boobs begin to tingle.
I fold my arms immediately. My nipples are probably blinking like disco balls—and that is not my fault given he’s the guy that turned my sexual faucet back on after it had happily been on the fritz. I guess hormones could be to blame, which would still make it his fault by my reckoning. I haven’t once suffered a pregnancy scare in my life, so I’m blaming our current reality on Matt’s super jizz.