Page 108 of Devilish Ink

“But you don’t have to,” he said, wiggling his fingers at me. “I’m here.”

I narrowed my eyes at him but plopped the jar into his hand.

He couldn’t know this, but I always struggled with those damn things. Banging them against the counter and grunting to try to pry them open.

With a quick pop, Liam had it open and done.

I rolled my eyes at the pride in his eyes as he placed it back into my hands and kissed my forehead.

Really I found it quite charming. I kinda liked having a big, strong man in the house.

When Liam had finished cooking and was plating the pasta, I came back over to help him carry the dishes to the table. He wagged his finger at me.

“I’ve got it,” he said, tossing the kitchen towel over his shoulder. “Sit.”

“I can help,” I protested.

“You can sit and get served by a hot baby daddy,” Liam replied.

“Oh, is he coming soon?” I asked, glancing toward the front door.

Holding two heaping portions of pasta in each hand, Liam kicked me playfully in the butt.

We sat together at the table and it was so natural, the way Liam’s hand came to rest on my knee as we ate.

The idea of domestic bliss might have made me laugh before, but in that moment it made me want to cry.

It was all just so sweet and simple, Liam asking about my day, oblivious to the little bit of tomato sauce at the corner of his mouth. I dabbed at it with my napkin.

When I finished, Liam took my hand gently in his. From the way he massaged my palm, hesitant eyes focused on the task, I knew he was going to ask about it. I’d been purposefully avoiding it, because I hated the pained look on his face when I mentioned his brother.

It had been so nice to just shut out the world for a little while,to just share this meal together. I was tempted to go on playing pretend forever. Why not, when we were clearly so happy, just the two of us?

But Liam couldn’t let it go. As happy as he did seem there at the table, I knew it was just an illusion. His fragmented relationship with his brother tore him apart inside.

In a slightly strained voice, Liam said, “When…when do you think you’re going to tell Rian?”

I knew it was coming, I did. But just because you see a train coming down the tracks doesn’t make the impact hurt any less. My pasta soured on my tongue.

“Soon,” I said. “I just…couldn’t today.”

I hoped he didn’t ask why not, because I didn’t have an answer. Or, at least, not a satisfying one.

Since Rian had confronted me, he’d basically ignored me at work. Barely looking at me when I came in. Refusing to come to lunch with the crew if I was going. Choosing to sit at the table farthest from me.

But at least he hadn’t told me to leave. Hadn’t fired me straight out. That’s why I held hope.

And telling Rian that I was pregnant with his brother’s baby wasn’t going to go down well. Not while things were still tenuous between us.

I’d begged the girls to keep it to themselves for now, saying that I needed time to tell the fatherfirstbefore I told Rian and the boys. But I could tell their whispers and giggles were becoming suspicious to the boys.

“Maybe tomorrow then?” The look in Liam’s eyes stabbed my heart as he glanced up at me from his plate.

I twisted more spaghetti around my fork, aware of his patient gaze on me the whole time. I couldn’t give him what he wanted. And it killed me.

“Maybe tomorrow,” I said, before stuffing my mouth full of food.

I felt Liam’s hand on my knee. It had been there the whole time, but now I fixated on it as the silence went on. Had his palm gone damp? Was he squeezing me harder than he’d been just before? Looser?

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