Page 51 of Pints & Potions

Heart pounding and mouth dry, he could only stare.

“You won’t have to commit to anything. Just the baby-making process. I’ll do the rest. I’ll raise and care for him or her,” she rushed to add. “I promise they’ll want for nothing.”

“You intend to deny the child the love of a father?” Why his anger was brewing and why he was so outraged on behalf of a non-existent baby, he couldn’t say, but he also couldn’t dismiss the sudden image of a devilish little girl with black curls and laughing eyes.

“Well, no. I mean, maybe someday I’ll meet a guy I want to spend my life with. I’m open to a relationship. But I…” She trailed off at his outraged sputtering.

“No other fucking man is going to be raisingmydaughter, to be sure!” He swallowed his wine in a single gulp and tossed his glass down on the ground. “It’s outrageous to suggest such a thing! As if I’ll let some plonker be there when she takes her first steps or cries for her da.”

Piper flushed and looked away, but not before he saw her tears forming.

“Forget I asked,” she choked out.

His heart was in overdrive and felt as if it intended to come right out through his skin. Although the day was cool, Cian began to sweat. The problem was that he’d never forget the picture-perfect toddler in his mind. Every time he would look at Piper, he’d imagine her belly swollen with his seed or a child’s tiny arms reaching for him.

“I’ll do it,” he heard himself say. “But you’ll marry me.”

Her head whipped in his direction and he winced at the sound of the crack. She did, too, right before rubbing her neck. He repositioned himself so her back was to his front and worked the neck muscles with his thumbs in an effort to ease her discomfort—and maybe so he could hide from her.

“You don’t love me, Cian, and I won’t marry a man who won’t give his complete heart to me.”

Her voice had an achingly tired quality, as if it cost her to say no.

“I can’t give it to any woman, Piper,” he said in a low voice as he drew her back to rest against his chest. “But you have my admiration and respect. I promise to be a good husband to you.”

“And our child? Will you not be able to love him or her?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course, I will.”

“So you can offer love to our offspring but not me?”

His arms tightened around her. “Children don’t set out to destroy a man.”

He felt her sharp inhale, and he shifted, uncomfortable with what he revealed. Why he’d admitted such a thing was beyond his comprehension, and he wished the words back.

Seconds later, she relaxed within the circle of his embrace and rested her hands on his forearms. She stayed unusually silent, and together they listened to the stream gurgle and the wildlife around them go about their daily lives.

It seemed like hours later when she said, “I could never hurt you, Cian. I love you.”

For the second time since they’d sat down, she’d stolen his wits. “Moira swore the same,” he blurted.

“And because of one woman, you can’t ever trust again?”

Piper’s question was straight to the point and designed to make him question his long-held belief that love was a heartbreak waiting to happen.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “She damaged a fundamental part of me.” Until that moment, he couldn’t admit it. But saying the words aloud sounded ridiculous. Had someone come to him whinging about their poor crushed heart, he’d have counseled them to move on and find another. He’d been unable to do the same. Perhaps he’d had one too many disappointments in life, or maybe he feared he wasn’t strong enough to do it all again. Remaining carefree worked for him, and he wasn’t ready to abandon a tried-and-true practice.

“I’ve always likened myself to a tree,” Piper said as she continued absently stroking the hair on his forearm. “I bend with the wind. Become dormant for a while as I gather strength to start again. Allow my environment to shape me to a degree. But in the end, I’m determined to stand tall.”

“You make a fine tree, darlin’.” He drew her tighter to him and kissed her temple. “A fine tree, indeed.” Chin on her shoulder and cheek tucked against hers, he said, “I wish I had half your strength.”

“Maybe your dormant stage is a little longer than most,” she suggested.

He couldn’t miss the hopeful note in her voice.

“Don’t pin your dreams on me, Piper. I’ve warned you once, I’m not a man to commit.”

She pulled away and twisted to face him. “And yet you want me to marry you to give our child a father. What is that if not commitment?”

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