Playboy Doctor to Doting Dad

Kieran asked, ‘Did I hear right?’

Abby looked as stunned as he felt. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. Was she disappointed? Hurt even? She had every right to be. She’d done the hard yards with Seamus, not him. But he only saw pride in her eyes.

Kieran touched her shoulder, ran his finger down her cheek. His voice sounded scratchy when he spoke. ‘That’s amazing. I can’t believe I heard Seamus speak his first clear word. But it was the wrong word.’

How did she really feel about this? Seamus’s first word. It should’ve been ‘Mummy’. He looked closer, saw nothing but joy in her face. She had to the most generous person he had ever been lucky enough to meet. ‘Abby?’

Ripping another handful of tissues from the box, she dabbed at her tears. ‘That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard in for ever.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Now his smile grew, stretching his mouth wide. ‘Unbelievable.’

Seamus, unaware of the turmoil he’d caused, tossed the pen on Abby’s lap and went in search of another one. Kieran reached for him, lifted him into his arms and held him close. ‘Say it again.’

But Seamus had tired of that game. He stared up at Kieran, chuckling and banging his hands on his father’s chest. A chest that was about to break wide open with love. Seamus had just done what he’d believed impossible. His son had shown him love was within reach, was simple if he opened up to it.

One little word. A huge word. Daddy. He was a daddy. His son had told him so. His head banged against the wall behind him and he closed his eyes, shutting the moment in. Then snapped them open again, looking at Abby. This was her moment, too. The first time her son had spoken something comprehensible.

‘It should’ve been “Mummy”.’ He repeated it quietly but with feeling. He meant it. He’d stolen her moment.

‘That doesn’t matter. Truly. I’m just thankful I heard it. It’s so special.’

‘It’s magical.’ He reached a hand to her and she took it, wrapping her fingers around his.

She nodded. ‘The firsts are always the best.’

She never gave up telling him what he might be missing out on when he left. He smiled at her. ‘You’re wonderful, you know that?’

He saw her swallow before she looked away from him. Didn’t she believe him? She had to. He meant it. With all his body. With everything he had. With his heart.

This wasn’t about the children. This was about Abby. About the two of them. About the life they could make together. The life he wanted to make with her.

Emotion swamped him as he looked at the woman who’d snagged his heart. Love suffused him. Fear gripped him.

He couldn’t leave.

Not Abby or the children.

Not now or ever. This was where he belonged. Not in some large hospital on the other side of the world where his only claim to life was being a very good emergency specialist. No, he was meant to be a father. To Seamus and Olivia.

But more importantly he could never, ever leave Abby. He needed her. He had so much to give her.

Seamus wriggled out of his arms and toddled towards another pen, which he picked up and handed to Abby, triumph lighting up his eyes.

Abby took it, placing a light kiss on her son’s forehead. ‘Thank you, darling. You clever boy, you.’

Kieran gulped, swallowed, breathed deep. And reached for Abby’s hand. ‘Abby, I’m not leaving.’

‘Of course not. The twins are cooking dinner.’

His fingers took her chin, turned her head so he could look deep into those hazel orbs. ‘No, Abby, you don’t understand. This isn’t about dinner or about tomorrow or the next day. I’m not leaving. I’m staying on in Nelson. I’ll apply for Michael’s job, and if I don’t get that I’ll find something else. I can’t go away. I—’

She placed her forefinger over his lips. Her mouth spread into a smile, growing wider as he watched. ‘You’re staying.’

‘Yeah, I’m staying.’

Abby was still smiling when, five weeks later, the plane lifted off from Nelson on the first leg of their trip. Beside her Kieran groaned, and his hand gripped hers even harder.

‘At this rate every bone in my hand will be broken by the time we get to Dublin.’ At least it wasn’t her left hand, with the dazzling emerald in its simple gold setting winking at her from her ring finger.

Kieran tried to relax his hold. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. But I hate flying. Intensely.’

Sweetheart. The endearment still filled her with warmth every time she heard it, and that was often. ‘Maybe we should’ve stayed at home and you could’ve organised selling your apartment, packing up the furniture and all those other things by phone and email.’

‘You have no idea how tempting that was. But there are some things I have to be present to do. Like saying goodbye to all my staff, and to my boss, the guy who insisted I do some time away from Dublin before I started at Mercy Hospital.’ He chuckled. ‘Ethel told me I’d have a beautiful young woman to accompany me on this trip.’

‘Ethel?’

‘A very intuitive old lady who sat by me for the flight into Nelson. Perhaps I should look her up and invite her to the wedding.’

‘Go on. What’s one more person?’ The wedding numbers were growing by the day. The wedding. Her stomach gave an excited squeeze. She still couldn’t quite believe it. She and Kieran getting married had seemed such a remote possibility that there were moments when she thought she must be dreaming.

‘I’ll call Charlie about it.’ She smiled widely.

Charlie had taken over organising the wedding while they were away. Her organisational skills were surprisingly formidable. Had she learned that from her older sister?

Kieran ran a finger down her cheeks, wiping the lines left by tears from when she’d hugged her kids one last time at the airport. ‘They’ll be fine with Steph.’

‘I know.’ They’d only be gone for fourteen days but she’d never been apart from them for more than a day at a time. Seamus was too young to understand and seemed more interested in watching the planes taking off and landing. But Olivia had clung to her, crying and wanting to make sure Abby would come back. ‘Not like Mummy,’ she’d wailed. That’s when Abby had very nearly cancelled her flight.

‘Olivia will be fine the moment you’ve gone through the gate,’ Steph, who was looking after the children while they were away, had assured her. ‘You can phone her every night. Just go and enjoy yourselves. It is your honeymoon.’