Page 37 of Starting Over

Here I was, thirty-plus years later, still wishing she would smile at me like she smiled at others.

“Beck, is that all you’re eating?” Maureen asked my daughter.

I looked at Beck’s plate, and all she had chosen was turkey and rolls. I frowned. She needed more than that, but despite my concern, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make an ass of myself.

“You have a problem with my daughter’s choice of food?” I barked.

“Declan, for fuck’s sake.” King kicked me under the table.

“Dad, it’s ok.” Beck patted my leg. “Unfortunately, Maureen, this is all I can keep down. This baby won’t let me eat anything but turkey and bread. I can’t even use mayo or mustard or anything.”

“Oh no, that’s awful. I was like that with Colleen. I found a smoothie recipe that helped tremendously. I was able to replenish my vitamins and minerals while eating just enough to stave off the hunger. I could make you one, if you would like to try it,” she offered.

I refused to acknowledge the way my chest tightened, hearing Maureen wanting to take care of my daughter. The way she offered to help ease her suffering, the way a mother should.

My daughter never had that growing up. Well, not from her mother. Her grandmother, Willow, was wonderful. And I know Ryder’s mom, Abby, also had a hand in raising her. But a girl needed her mother, and Beck hadn’t had a good one.

“Honestly, I am willing to try anything. This baby is kicking my butt.”

“How far along are you?”

“Almost four months.” Beck sighed.

James Samson stopped by the table, his plate filled with food.

“Sheriff O’Rourke, it is good to see you.”

Maureen’s head snapped up at his words. Surprise rounded her eyes, before she dropped them to her plate when she caught me looking at her.

I turned my head, focusing on James, but I could feel Maureen’s gaze return to me. “You too, James. How are things at the college?”

“Good, good. I do sometimes live for these holiday breaks, though. Evie and I would love to have you over for dinner again.”

“Sounds good. Just let me know when.”

He walked back to the table, where his wife and daughter sat with Ace, a club member. He wasn’t their son, but they became his surrogate parents after his parents, their best friends, passed away.

When I turned back to the table, I caught Maureen looking at me.

“O’Rourke?” she asked.

“Our last name,” King confirmed.

She turned to look at King, then back at me. Her brows pinched and her eyes narrowed, ping ponging back and forth between King and I while she worked out what I knew she had discovered.

I sighed heavily and waited for her to ask.

I was surprised after a moment or two when she clamped her lips together tightly, then went back to eating her meal, ignoring me altogether.

“Ní mór dúinn labhairt,” I said.We need to talk.

“Níl ní dhéanaimid,” she replied. No, we don’t.

“Ní mór dom a mhíniú,” I argued.I need to explain.

“Téigh go dtí ifreann,”Go to hell.

“What the fuck is going on right now?” King demanded.

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