Even Duncan laughed at her. “Can’t be any worse than Fiona’s diaper.”
Conall and Brendan exchanged high fives as the boy smacked both feet on home plate for emphasis. The pitcher called, “Replacement ball.”
Jane returned carrying the now greenish-brown-tinged baseball between two fingers. “What kind of baseball field is this?” she asked.
Duncan kissed her on the cheek and declined to take the ball. It was Lia, still giggling, who led her to the outdoor faucet where they rinsed and re-rinsed the ball, then dropped it and went into the house to scrub hands.
“Seventh-inning stretch,” Niall declared. “We’ve lost our outfielder. I could use a beer anyway.”
“You just want to quit because you’re losing,” Conall said amiably. His team—Walker, Brendan, Lia and himself—was trouncing Niall’s, which consisted of Desmond, Niall, Jane and Anna alternating with Duncan. Rowan had been declared ineligible to play ball because no one wanted to be responsible for sending a line drive into her pregnant belly. Niall was operating with a disability; he’d had to tackle a suspect that week and his left side was a mass of bruises and knotted muscles. His pitching wasn’t too bad, but his batting sucked. Des was decent for his age, Jane had turned out to be athletic, and Anna had managed to make it to first base on a bunt, but Conall and the boys had been doing some serious practicing.
“You’ve got a weenie for a wife,” Conall told Duncan as he delved into the cooler for a beer.
He’d never seen his big brother more relaxed. Duncan was currently lounging on one of the Adirondack chairs Lia had brought out onto the lawn. “Weak stomach,” he said easily. “You should have seen her the first few months she was pregnant. She could hardly keep anything down. We ate the blandest diet you’ve ever seen for a while there.”
“Killed his sex life, too,” their brother said, joining them. Trailed by Rowan, the kids had all run over to pet the pony through the fence. The men were left momentarily alone.
Duncan shot him a look. “Didn’t sound like yours was any too hot for a few months there, either.”
Amused, Conall wondered what their wives would think of this discussion. He could imagine what Lia would say if he…
Goddamn it. There he went again, thinking of her as his.
Duncan continued, “But when that crazy son of a bitch tried to slit Jane’s throat, she had a spine of steel.”
“That’s true,” Niall admitted. “Jane’s a gutsy woman.”
“Looks like you both got lucky,” Conall said after a minute.
“Oh, yeah,” Niall said softly.
Duncan grunted agreement. Gaze resting on Conall, he said, “You’ve never been tempted?”
Words rose automatically to his tongue. Not happening. That’s what he’d always said, wasn’t it? But those familiar words remained unspoken. It was scary as hell, but for the first time in his life, he could feel the pull. He understood why a man might want only one woman. Kids.
“Hasn’t happened yet,” he finally said, then almost cursed at the way his head turned when he heard the screen door opening. Lia had never looked more beautiful to him than she did today, wearing cut-offs, tank top and athletic shoes, a sheen of sweat making her glow. She emerged, followed by Jane, and he quickly turned back, but too late. Heat ran across his cheeks when he met his brothers’ interested gazes.
“She’s a beautiful woman,” Duncan observed, voice pitched to be sure it didn’t reach the women.
Conall muttered without meaning to be heard.
“What’s that?” Niall asked, leaning forward.
“Stuff it.”
“She involved with anyone?” Duncan asked quietly.
Conall hadn’t asked her. Hadn’t dared. But he thought she would have said. She wasn’t the kind of woman who’d have explored his bare chest with such curiosity and hunger if she had a lover.
“No.” He frowned slightly, hardly aware he’d turned his head enough to watch her and Jane descend the steps and start across the grass toward the children. “I get the feeling she thinks no guy would want her as long as she’s determined to keep fostering.” He glanced at Niall. “She admired the way you’ve taken on Rowan’s two kids. She seemed…surprised.” Interesting; he hadn’t realized at the time that she was, but he knew now that’s what he’d seen on her face.