Page 2 of Thick as Thieves
“Eevviiee,” I breathe out. “No fucking way.”
1
Xander
Current Day
Scotland, Barclay House
I can’t breathe.I need to leave. I need to get out.
The babies I’ve delivered have her eyes.
As soon as they opened them, I knew we’d never be able to say no to a single thing they ask us for.
Us.
Marcus, my best friend since childhood, pulls me in for a hug and tells me how much he loves me. He’s kissing us both—Evie and I—along with his newborn children, tears streaming down his face.
I smile back, pouring all of my love into it, but my eyes, my full focus, returns to his wife. To Evie, who has given him so much. Given us so much.
And I can’t breathe.
How canthings change in the blink of an eye? How can I go from loving them to being in love?
2
Xander
Barclay House,Scotland
I stand with my dad, Tarron, in the house where I delivered the babies. Time seems to have sped up. It can’t be over a week ago that the two most gorgeous babies in Scotland entered this world. The Fairy House, as it’s known locally due to its pink stone that was said to be kissed by the Fairy Prince himself, was one of Evie’s favourite places on the estate, even before she gave birth in it. But Dad had refurbished it for holiday lettings rather than a maternity wing. So we’re discussing moving Evie and the twins back up to the big house, when she wakes with a start and looks over at us. I smile instantly at her, as does my dad, but she’s not looking at us.
She’s staring past us with the most amazed look on her face, completely awestruck, talking to a child. A girl by the sounds of it.
I look at Dad, and he’s staring at her with the strangest look on his face.
“Evie, there’s no one there,” I tell her as my dad goes towards the bed to pick up the boys, who have stirred.
She laughs and drops back onto the pillows. “Must be dreaming still. Probably a post pregnancy thing.”
Eamonn, Marcus’s young nephew of sorts, opens the bedroom door. “Are they awake, Aunty Kitten? Can I get them out?”
He’s totally into the babies. At the ripe old age of seven, he held Marcus up as the children were born and was the coolest head in the room. He’s continued helping out when he can. Spending as much time in their presence as Evie will let him. Talking about the mares at the stables who are in foal and will be having their babies soon. When they’re older, he tells the twins, he’ll take them and show them.
His chatter fills the room, and the daily procession of people start to come in. It’s like a conveyor belt, one in one out.
I don’t move. I need to stay. The pull to be near her, and them, is so fucking strong, I know I’m incapable of resisting.
“These babies will never want to be without company,” I tell her as there’s a little lull in people coming for a cuddle.
“It was the same for James,” she tells me. “He had the three Greystones in London, and when we went to Devon there were a total of seven Greystones plus Marshall. He was never alone, and was perfectly at ease in any company. Farm workers, everyone in the pub, he knew everyone and they all knew him. It does them good to learn how to adapt. Oh, and be the centre of attention. James was great at that.” She laughs and her stomach moves, jiggling one of the boys, who grumbles at her.
The magnetic pull cranks up a level, my skin practically itches, drawing me closer. I sit on the bed, reaching out to touch one of their heads. The dark brown hair is as soft as down.
“Which one is this?” I ask her softly.
“The oldest, Lachlan. Do you think that’s a nice name? Tarron told me it means from the Loch. We could call him Lochi for short.”
