Page 20 of The Irish Rogue

And with that, she collected the reports and walked away.

“Thankfully, we no longer have accounting problems,” Levi commented. “Thank goodness Clarissa found Mandy after that debacle with Milton Burrows.”

Matteo rolled his eyes, then jerked his head towards the third member of their group. “Sean has bigger problems than we do.”

Levi chuckled and took a sip of his scotch. “I suspect you are correct.”

Sean ignored his friends, replaying the voice mail in his head. Why the hell would she call him now? It had been months since they’d had contact. Months since that weekend.

With a muttered curse, he pushed away from the bar and stalked out of the club. He’d hit the gym. Maybe there was someone at the gym that he could spar with for an hour or two. He needed to work out some of this anger and frustration.

Chapter 7

Kennedi wasn’t aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks as the nurse placed the tiny bundle in her arms. “Hello, darling!” she whispered to her newborn son. She touched his red, blotchy face and the dark thatch of hair on his sweet, soft head reverently. Her son’s eyes were closed and his tiny fists were clenched, vibrating in the air. “It’s so nice to meet the little guy who has been kicking me every night.”

The nurses chuckled, moving efficiently around the room as they cleaned up after the delivery. Kennedi ignored the bustle, entranced by the beauty of the child in her arms.

A knock on the door startled her out of her reverie. Looking up, she beamed as she saw Dorothy and Tom standing in the doorway to her hospital room.

“Is it too soon for visitors?” Dorothy asked.

Tom followed, looking like a proud grampa. Kennedi had to admit that the pair had certainly stepped up as grandparents. As soon as she’d admitted she was pregnant, Tom had hovered over her. Dorothy, his wife, brought presents nearly every day. The couple hadn’t been able to conceive during their forty years of marriage. So, they’d been incredibly excited about her pregnancy and Kennedi was thrilled to have their unwavering support.

“Come on in,” she whispered, smiling as both of them gazed down at the red-faced infant in her arms.

“He’s adorable!” Dorothy cooed.

Kennedi laughed, shaking her head. “He looks like a troll.” Then she kissed the top of his head. “But the nurses assure me that the redness will ease over the next few days.”

“He’s incredibly handsome,” Tom assured her, the proud-grampa expression firmly in place. He was holding a bouquet of daisies, as well as a large package with tissue paper fluffed out of the top. “Oh, and this…this is from us.”

Kennedi beamed, shaking her head. “You guys have bought me too much,” she replied, fighting back the tears. “I would never have gotten through the past several months without you.”

Tom sniffed slightly and wiped a handkerchief over his face. His voice was gruff as he said, “We’re honored that you’re letting us participate in this miracle with you.”

Kennedi grinned. “Do you want to hold him?” she offered.

Tom’s mouth fell open but Dorothy immediately stepped forward. “I thought you’d never offer!” she gushed, then hurried to wash her hands. She returned and reached out, carefully lifting the bundle into her arms, then sat down beside Kennedi. “Oh, he’s precious!” Dorothy whispered reverently.

Kennedi glanced over at Tom, who was staring wide eyed at his wife and the baby in her arms. Her heart ached for him. He would have been such a wonderful father! He was always so caring and concerned with everyone at the brewery.

But now, she would ensure that he got to be a grandpa. He was the closest thing to a grandfather that her son would have.

“What’s his name?” Dorothy asked.

Kennedi looked at her tiny child and sighed. “I don’t know yet.”

“You don’t have a name picked out?”

She shook her head. “I was thinking Liam,” she admitted, wanting to give her son an Irish name. “But now that I’ve met him, he doesn’t feel like a Liam to me.”

Tom chuckled and set the colorful bag beside Kennedi. “What does he look like to you?”

Kennedi peered over Dorothy’s shoulder, smiling at her son. “What about Declan?” she offered. “Does he seem like a Declan?”

Tom’s smile and nod of approval warmed her. She’d never had a father, but Tom had always been there for her.

“We have something for you,” Dorothy said. “Tom, give her the envelope.”

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