Page 149 of Three Irish Kings
“Hey!" Offense is evident in Dare’s voice and on his face. He shoots back his drink and hails the poor redhead for another.
“They better be tipping you well.”
She turns to me when I speak and gives me a pretty smile. “They are.”
Liam fumbles for his wallet, and Dare swats at him, pulling out his instead and putting a hundred down on the bar.
The bartender takes it and puts it in her apron, giving Dare a grin.
“You wouldn’t ever run away just because you were pregnant, would you?” he asks her, and the redhead blinks at him.
“Uh, of course not.”
I laugh out loud, and Dare glares at me.
“How are you in a good mood right now?”
“I’m going to be a father.”
“That’s crazy. You don’t know which of us it is. I’ve read that it’s dangerous to do a paternity test while pregnant, too, so we’ll have to wait God knows how many months to find out.”
“It doesn’t matter. She should choose Cill,” Liam mumbles, and I clap a hand on his shoulder.
“If I’m honest, she hasn’t chosen anyone.” It doesn’t even make me feel bad.
I don’t care, as long as Isla will be in my life. Of course, I’ll be jealous if she chooses one of them, if the baby is one of theirs. It'll hurt like hell.
But I can’t stop thinking about the baby. About how it might be mine. Might have my light green eyes and Isla’s wicked smile.
Will it be a boy or a girl? Will it love me as much as I already love it?
“And she won’t,” Dare says flatly, pulling me out of my thoughts. “She’s just leading us all on. How do we know she’s really even pregnant?”
“She wouldn’t lie to us about something like that.”
Liam stops speaking and starts hiccupping, which is probably a bad sign.
I heave him up and manage to get him to the restroom before he throws up Irish whiskey all over the stall.
I pat his back as he washes his face. “Feel better?”
“No.”
I huff out a breath. “You and Dare really need to get it together. Isla needs us right now.”
“She needsyou.”Liam clutches at my shirt, shoving me against the wall. “You... you wouldn’t hurt her, would you? Because if she ever comes to me crying?—”
“Hey, hey,” I push him away, and he stumbles backward. “Stop it. She hasn’t chosen me, okay? She hasn’t chosen anyone. You two are getting way ahead of yourselves.”
So, why is it that I want to grin?
Maybe I am the bad guy because I want her to choose me. To love me. To have my baby.
Fuck the consequences.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ISLA
