Page 49 of Broken Blood Ties

“Oh, but I wouldn’t want your pristine, expensive suit to sit so close to my germ-infected tissues.”

She scurries to the trash, but my view stays glued to the bed, the twitch of a smile blooming on my mouth. “Ye want me in yer bed?”

Her eyes blow wide. “What? No!”

She dumps the tissues into the trash can. Her sweatshirt is so oversized it falls down over her shorts, making it look as if she’s got nothing on underneath. I shake my head.

“Seriously, Kieran. Why are you in my apartment?”

I blink. Does she realize she’s been calling me Kieran more often? I opt not to bring attention to it, hoping she might use my name more. “I’d hardly classify this as an apartment.”

“We can’t all live in beautiful houses. Someone has to occupy these, oh so lowly buildings.” She moves to her kitchenette and grabs two clean bowls from the one and only cabinet and lifts one. “Want some?” Then she motions to the bag I’m still holding.

“Oh, no. It’s for ye.” I make to move forward to bring her the soup, but something brushes up against my leg and I nearly jump at the sensation.

Summer laughs. “That’s Deuce, sorry.”

Wrapped around my suit pants is a gray, mangy-looking animal and I practically have to shake it off as I hop toward Summer.

“He won’t bite.”

“Aye, but how do I know that?”

She considers, then shrugs. “Guess you don’t.”

I hand her the stew, and she opens the to-go container, scooping the warm meal into her bowl. She tucks one foot over the other, bending her leg at the knee so it swings back and forth casually as she dips her spoon in for a bite.

She groans. “Jeez. That’s good!”

“Glad ye approve.” I watch her mouth move as she eats and then swallows.

“How’s Aoife?”

“Much better. Not thrilled with her substitute teacher. She calls her a pretend teacher.”

Summer giggles, raspy. “That’s too cute.”

“Aye,” I say, meeting her star-eyed expression before dropping to my shoes. I tuck my hands into my pockets. This feels weird. Am I being the old guy creeping on his daughter’s preschool teacher? I sigh, recognizing that I should leave. But not before I know she’s okay.

“Ye’re feeling all right then?”

She tilts her head. “Yeah. My fever broke in the middle of the night last night. Just going to give myself a day or two more before returning to work.”

“Right. Well, I best be on me way then.” I hesitate a moment before striding to the door. I eye the metal bat. “Ye runnin’ from somethin’?”

It’s a joke, but the way her eyes bulge …

She rapidly shakes her head, and unease creeps into my chest. She is, isn’t she?

“Of course not,” she touts, shoving another spoonful of stew into her mouth.

As she chews, I open the door, glancing back at her just in time to see her swallow, then worry with her lower lip. I stare at her.

“Thank you, Kieran. For the stew.”

I backpedal out the door. “Aye. Feel better, Summer.”

When the door closes behind me, I stand there. Listening for the click of each deadbolt as they slide back into place. When I’m sure the last lock clacks closed, I jog down the stairs.

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