“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I mutter. “Jesus Christ.”
“You’ve got the mouth of a fucking sailor.”
“How funny, so do you,” I say. “Who knew?”
He shakes his head. Through the flimsy door I hear Carson and Lachlan enter, talking with Tiernan and Fiona.
“What are we going to do?” I ask him. “This is the worst possible situation. How will we keep what’s… how will they not know that… how will you…” I don’t even know how to ask the questions I need to know.
“Sheena,” he says, his voice a hoarse whisper. “It’s the dead of night, lass. Those children haven’t slept. They need a proper night’s sleep, a clean place to lay their heads, and safety and protection. We’ll deal with the rest in the morning.”
Goddamn him, he’s got logic on his side. At least partly. He can’t explain away the rest of our conundrum so easily.
My throat’s tight again. I can’t help it. I reach my hand to his cheek.
“Damn you, Nolan McCarthy,” I whisper.
He looks at me quizzically.
I shake my head. “Sometimes you make it hard to hate you. But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll give me reason again before the sun rises.”
“Will do my best,” he says, then he shoots me a grin I feel straight between my damn legs. He releases my neck, and grabs my hand. He opens the door and leads me out.
Something like hope blooms in my chest when I see the McCarthy men in the little kitchen. It’s so incongruous, the big, massive lot of them all alpha male and dangerous, in this little hellhole of a kitchen, but they’re big, they’re strong, they’re fearless.
And oddly… it seems like a contradiction, somehow… I feel safe with them.
I immediately dismiss that line of thinking. I didn’t get to where I am by being foolish and helpless, and I’m not going to start now.
“Alright, then,” I say briskly, and I swear to God I stop myself just seconds before I clap my hands like a teacher trying to get her classroom’s attention. “What do we need to bring? Nappies, bottles, toothbrushes.”
“Just about all we’ll need is the baby things,” Carson says. “Everything else, we’ll get back at the house.”
“Aye, I agree,” Lachlan says. Fiona looks up at him with such wide eyes, it breaks my heart a little. She hasn’t said a word. He notices her staring up at him and smiles.
“Hey,” he says. “Name is Lachlan. What’s yours?”
She looks to me for permission to speak her name. I nod at her. “Go on,” I say. “It’s okay.”
“Fiona,” she whispers.
“’Tis a beautiful name,” he says, and for that one brief moment in time, my heart softens toward him.
Tiernan isn’t having any of it, though. He scowls at the lot of them.
“Just for tonight,” he says. “We won’t need their help for any longer than that.”
I nod. It’s not time for me to argue with him. Not now, when we need to leave so quickly.
We hear voices right outside our door, and we all stand still and listen. Lachlan’s hand at his holster.
“Don’t you dare,” Tiernan warns, but Lachlan gives him a warning look and ignores him. I admire Tiernan’s bravery, but I have to have a talk with my brother. He has to watch it with these men.
The voices go away, and Lachlan removes his hand. But a few seconds later, a loud crash sounds just outside.
We have to get out of here. They were in danger before, then Nolan had to come in here with fists flying. It’ll be trouble, I know it.
“Right, then,” I say. “I’ll go get the baby.”
I turn toward the doorway and freeze mid-step when Nolan comes through the doorway with the baby in his arms.
Mother of God.
Bloody hell.
Nolan’s a fucking natural with baby Sam, curled up in those powerful, muscular arms of his like he’s done this before. I wonder if he has, but then I remember, he’s an uncle now to several babies. I try not to go all hormonal, but I can’t help it. I honestly think my ovaries twitch.
“Let’s go,” Nolan says. I go to reach for the baby, and he hands him to me. His arms brush mine, warm and strong, and for one brief moment he isn’t my captor, my enemy, the very man I’ve set out to destroy, but something… else.
I take the baby, draw him to my chest, and kiss his wee head. He stirs and rolls closer to my chest. I imagine for a moment that Nolan’s eyes grow wistful, but the next blink of an eye he’s all hard and determined again.
“I don’t want to be here if there’s blowback,” he says. “Would defeat the feck—” he stops mid-sentence “Would defeat the purpose,” he finishes.
I nod with the others, and we leave the dank hovel. My imagination goes wild, pretending for one brief moment that once I take them out of here I don’t have to bring them back. That they can have a safe place to stay, regular food in their bellies, security, and the comforts of home.