I look at him in surprise. He’s religious about his damn diet and working out.
“For Eve,” he says, with a smile. “She’s been cravin’ it.”
Carson’s woman Eve is six months pregnant, and he’s managed to keep it a secret this long. They’ve dated casually for years, but never made a commitment. I’ve no doubt the code of The Clan is to blame for this, since the men of The Clan typically marry for reasons that benefit us all: arranged marriages to form a truce, betrothal to solidify bonds, tributes as payment for sins.
“Did you tell Keenan yet?” I ask.
Carson shakes his head.
“Can’t keep it quiet for that much longer, can you, Carson?” I shake my head.
He grimaces. “Aye. You’re right.”
“Tell him tonight.”
He shakes his head. “Soon,” he promises.
As the younger brother of The Clan, I’m the one they all approach first, to suss him out, I suppose. Keenan’s an excellent leader, loyal and fearless, but tight as a drum. Stern. He followed in my father’s footsteps. And though I consider Carson my brother, he isn’t related by blood, so he’s careful.
Carson’s mum was an English woman by birth who worked for my family her whole life. Widowed when Carson was just a baby, she grew sick when he was only a child. She gave Carson over to my father to raise as his own. Said that she trusted him, respected his code, and knew that her son would be taken care of for life.
He is. He lived in our home, then attended St. Albert’s with the rest of us.
“You’ve got to tell him, Carson,” I say. “For a logical brainiac like you, I’m surprised you haven’t made this conclusion already.”
Carson’s Clan bookkeeper, the smartest of the lot.
He runs a hand through his hair again, making it stand up on end, and for the first time, he looks scared.
“Well, no. Truth is, she doesn’t want anyone to know.”
I turn sharply to look at him, shocked at what he’s saying. He was excited for this, eager, already the proud papa ready to light a cigar.
“Come again? Why not?”
“I mean, it isn’t the first time she’s gotten pregnant, Nolan. She’s lost one before this. She’s a bit… nervous, is all.”
“Ahhh. Christ, brother, I’m sorry to hear that. And you don’t want to tell Keenan until she’s comfortable with that?”
“Aye.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Understood. So mum’s the word for now, but don’t let it get on too long. Reckon it’s good not to wait too long, aye?”
Carson gives me a sideways grin. “Look at you, all responsible-like. I remember the days when you—”
The second clap on the shoulder isn’t as friendly. He guffaws, trotting up the stairs ahead of me, but drops the conversation.
I can take crap from him, but the truth is, I remember it well, too. The days when I was carefree and drunk off my nut for most of the day. Seems those days weren’t that long ago, and it’ll take fucking years for my brothers to respect me again.
Boner’s at the door, waiting for us. Tall and lanky, he bounces on the balls of his feet like he’s ready to run a race. He takes a swig from a flask at his hip and puts it away when he sees me. My cousin by birth, he’s as close as a brother to me, and he doesn’t like to tempt me with drink. He knows it eats at me, though.
“Say yes, lad,” he says, ruffling my hair. I duck, and give him a playful punch to the gut. “C’mon,” he says, gasping. “It’s Cinco de Mayo, brother. You know what that means.”
“Fifth of May? Important if you’re Mexican, but we’re Irish, dumbass.”
He opens the door and the three of us head into the main entrance. The house smells of freshly-baked bread and Irish stew. When we open the door to the study, a faint but pretty voice sings a lullaby in the distance.
“Aileen?”
“Aye,” Boner says with a smile. “Newest babe doesn’t sleep well, Aileen’s got her in the library to give Caitlin a bit of rest.”
I nod.
“Poor lass.”
“Who’s that?” Cormac’s pouring himself a whiskey by the sideboard when we enter. My older brother, second in command, he’s the biggest of all of us, burly and strong, with a thick dark beard and new ink on the back of his neck. Though he’s the official Bonebreaker of the Clan, stern as hell and the first I’d want by my side in battle, he’s got a gentler side to him as well. The only resemblance between us is the McCarthy family green eyes.
“Caitlin,” I tell him. “I hear the babe’s keeping her up at night?”
“Aye,” Keenan says from the desk across the room. He’s typing on his laptop and doesn’t look over at us. His own eyes look bleary from lack of sleep. “Mam says it’s colic or some such. I’ve been putting Seamus to bed and Caitlin’s been taking the baby.”