Married to the Mom-to-Be

by Helen Lacey

  “Hi.”

  He turned and met her gaze. “I woke you?”

  She shook her head. “No. I was awake.”

  “How was dinner with your folks?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t go.”

  “Why not?”

  Her gaze traveled over him. “I thought it was more important that I stay home so we could talk.”

  His expression was unreadable. “About what?”

  “About us.” She shrugged fractionally. “I... We... You’re home late.”

  “I said I would be.”

  His quiet tone defied the temper she knew was simmering beneath the surface. The distance between them seemed wider than ever. She’d naively believed that Kathleen’s return would be a magic tonic for everything that was wrong with their relationship. But while her parents appeared to be happier and delighted that the other woman was back in their lives, the rift between the two families seemed no closer to being resolved. And their marriage was slam in the middle of all the drama. It didn’t help that they’d parted badly that morning—again.

  “And you changed your clothes?”

  “It was a long day. I used the gym at the hotel and then changed into this. Why?” he queried, one brow cocked at an angle. “Are you suspicious of my movements? Do you think that perhaps your father was right and I’ve been out screwing around somewhere?”

  The silence in the room was suddenly a screeching, chilling sound.

  Kayla’s hand came to her heart. “Of course not.” She took a step closer. “Is that why you’re sleeping downstairs...because of something my father said?”

  “No,” he flipped back. “Because you allowed him to say it in the first place.”

  Bam. A sucker punch. There was no more skirting around her feelings. Just the accusation that she was a coward, afraid to stand up for herself and do what he clearly considered her responsibility as his wife. “I couldn’t say—”

  “I would defend you with my dying breath, do you know that?”

  Yes...

  Kayla took a step closer and grabbed the back of a chair. The pure, undiluted frustration in his expression reached deep down and she took a long, steadying breath. “I’ll talk to my father. I’m sure things will be better now that—”

  “Better for who?” he said, cutting her off. “Your family? I guess things are working out for your parents now that Kathleen is back, right?”

  She nodded. “Of course they’re happy. They’ve missed my aunt terribly and everyone is delighted that she...” Her words trailed off. Of course, her family might be celebrating, but Liam’s was falling apart quite spectacularly. She felt selfish down to her core. There was not going to be a happy ending for J.D. and Gwen O’Sullivan’s marriage. And in that moment, Kayla wondered if her own was going to suffer the same fate. “I’m really sorry that things worked out the way they have for your parents. I know it must be hard on you and Kieran and—”

  “Marriages fall apart,” he said coolly. “Even those that are believed to be the strongest. I don’t blame Kathleen for anything. My mother has made it very clear that she’s been unhappy for a long time. And frankly, I’m more concerned about my own marriage, rather than my parents’, at the moment.”

  Kayla stared at him. There it was—Liam O’Sullivan and his absolute truth. No shades of gray...just his black-and-white assertion that their relationship was in trouble.

  “I want this to work, Liam... I want us to get through this. For our child’s sake.”

  He went to speak and then stalled. He simply looked at her. Through her. As though he was memorizing every feature, every angle and every expression. Kayla’s heart thundered under his intense scrutiny and she matched his gaze, unwavering in her stare.

  Finally, he spoke. “You should get some sleep.”

  She nodded, turned and walked from the room, knowing they’d never been as far apart as they were in that strained, unhappy moment.

  * * *

  Liam had no illusions about his mood. It was bad. And as much as he tried keeping his cool the following day, every so often he would snap. Mostly at Connie, who would shake her head and tell him to take a pill.

  He’d left the house before Kayla that morning and hadn’t contacted her all day. He checked his watch, saw that it was three o’clock and sent her a brief text message, saying he’d bring dinner home. It wasn’t much of an icebreaker, but it would have to do. He waited for a reply, and when one didn’t come, pushed the phone aside and immersed himself in work.

  Twenty minutes later, Connie popped her head around the office door. She looked a little flustered and he instantly thought there must be some kind of crisis downstairs.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She had a tight smile on her face. “Your brother’s here to see you.”

  Good. He could do with the company. “Kieran? Tell him to come in.”

  She shook her head. “Not that one,” she said, almost whispering. “The other one.”

  Not Sean, since he was in LA. Liam rounded out his shoulders. Jonah. “Send him in.”

  “Oh... Sure.”

  Liam frowned. “Everything okay, Connie? Has he said something to upset you?”

  She shook her head and opened the door wider. “Ah...he’s just...he’s...no.”

  “You sure? You look...rattled.”

  Connie’s eyes widened for a second. “Of course I’m not. I’ll send him in.” Then she swiveled on her heels and disappeared.

  A few moments later his newest and youngest brother came through the door. Liam had to admit that they did indeed look alike. There was certainly no doubt that Jonah Rickard was an O’Sullivan.

  “Something I can do for you?” Liam asked and pushed his chair back.

  His brother walked across the room and dropped into a chair. “Nice hotel you have here.”

  “The best around.”

  “J.D. said you were responsible for its success.”

  Liam almost heard a note of begrudging respect in the other man’s voice. “You call him J.D?” he queried. “Why not Dad?”

  His brother’s eyes narrowed. “Is that any of your business?”

  “Probably not,” he said and shrugged. “Only if it affects my father. Our father.”

  Jonah’s shoulders twitched. “It’s easier. Less confusing.”

  “For who?”

  “Everyone,” he replied.

  “You hate him that much?” Liam asked bluntly.

  “Don’t you?” Jonah shot back and sprang from his seat like a caged animal. “He lied to you for thirty years. Aren’t you as mad as hell with him?”

  “It wouldn’t change anything.”

  Jonah shook his head. “What’s wrong with you? How can you sit there so calm and in control? Don’t you feel anything?”

  Liam’s gut rolled and he curled his fingers into his palms. The guy certainly had a way of getting under his skin, but he knew getting angry was pointless. Jonah had to fight his own demons his own way. “Just because I’m not punching walls or knocking out teeth doesn’t mean I’m happy with my father’s behavior. I understand you have issues with him, and rightly so, but he—”

  “So, you don’t care how he treated you all for years? The contempt? The betrayal?” The rising rage emanating from the younger man was palpable and Liam slowly got to his feet. “You want to know why I don’t want anything to do with him. Why I call him J.D.? Because I care about my mother.”

  “Likewise,” Liam said quietly. “Which is why fits of temper are counterproductive. My mother is divorcing our father, did you know that? Making it harder for them both from the sidelines won’t change anything. It’s the same for your mom... Being angry at our father isn’t a way to show you care about her.”

  Jonah laughed
humorlessly. “Maybe you can’t understand this, but being an only child is different. When there’s only you, and no other siblings to fight with, to confide in, to share what sometimes feels like a goddamned burden of being overloved, you feel responsible. There’s no way out of it. No way to stop being the center of their world without hurting them...and that’s...unthinkable. When you’re an only child, it’s as though duty and responsibility are somehow imprinted in your DNA and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Liam stilled instantly. Jonah’s words were suddenly etched into his brain. Duty and responsibility. Didn’t he have the same imprint? Hadn’t he stepped into his father’s shoes without resistance fifteen years ago because he saw it as his job, his familial obligation, to take over the reins and ensure that every member of the family was taken care of?

  Duty and responsibility.

  Of course.

  And then all he could think of was his wife. Kayla and her unrelenting faith in her family. Kayla and her inability to hurt her parents. Kayla and her sweet lips and soft hands.

  He’d told her he understood...but it was an understanding on his terms.

  When he should have given her his complete and unfailing support from the onset. He knew how hard she had struggled with hurting her parents and he’d made all the right noises about understanding her motives, but when it came to the crunch, he’d behaved like an impatient idiot. A demanding idiot. Then he’d moved out of their bed to punish her because she wouldn’t bend to his will. No wonder she had pulled away.

  He found himself smiling and then grabbed his keys. He looked at Jonah and then walked toward him. The man in front of him was his brother. His kin. His family. Whether he liked it or not.

  “Thanks,” he said and then slapped Jonah on the shoulder with the same kind of brotherly regard he would show Kieran or Sean. “If you need anything, ask Connie,” he said and grinned. “Just try not to upset her. She’s got a fearsome temper and is very protective.”

  He walked out of the office, told Connie he was leaving as he passed her desk and headed downstairs. A few minutes later he was striding through the door of the museum, expecting to find his wife at work. But she wasn’t there.

  “She left early,” Shirley said cheerfully. “I think she said she was going back to her old apartment for something.”

  Liam thanked the older woman and headed for his vehicle. He considered texting his wife, but changed his mind. They needed to talk face-to-face and her apartment was as good a place as any. Plus, the notion she was at the apartment packing up more of her things pleased him.

  He pulled up outside the old Victorian, switched off the ignition and got out. Sure enough, her car was parked in the driveway. But strangely, so was his mother’s. He headed inside and took the stairs to her apartment, quickly tapping on the door and was stunned to find his mother and Kathleen Rickard in the midst of an earnest conversation. And no Kayla.

  “She’s upstairs,” Kathleen explained. “Giving us a chance to talk.”

  Upstairs? With the geek who had the hots for her? Right.

  Liam took about three seconds to turn and race up the stairwell. He wrapped his knuckles hard on the door and waited. The door swung back and the geek faced him, looking dishevelled and wary.

  “I’m looking for my wife,” he said coolly.

  The other man stepped aside and Liam immediately saw Kayla, sitting on the geek’s couch, legs curled up, a mug between her hands, looking like she’d done the same thing a thousand times. The very concept that she was in another man’s living room, clearly relaxed and in a good mood, curdled his blood with a kind of unholy rage. And despair. And a hurt so intense he felt as though he could barely draw a breath. He stared at her, caught between anguish and anger.

  She got to her feet quickly and moved toward the door. “Liam... I...I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Clearly.”

  “We were just—”

  “Save the explanation,” he said and held up a dismissive hand. “I want you to collect whatever possessions you have left in the apartment and then go home. You won’t be coming back here again.”

  “Liam I—”

  “And I don’t want you within ten feet of my wife,” he said to the other man, now hovering behind them.

  Then he turned on his heels and left.

  Chapter Eleven

  He’d moved out. And into the hotel.

  She’d called Liam. Left a message. Sent a text. And got nothing other than a curt reply saying he was at the hotel. No reason. No excuse.

  But she knew why. He was angry at the scene at Dane’s apartment.

  Okay...so it may have looked bad, but there was nothing clandestine or questionable about her reason for being there. She’d simply been giving Gwen and Kathleen a chance to speak privately, and informing her landlord that she was finally ending her lease and would try to sublet the place. The tea and conversation on the couch was merely a by-product of that. Talking down to Dane was out of line. Moving out was extreme. Ridiculous. If only he’d give her a chance to explain. Stubborn, impossible man!

  Kayla had spent her first night alone in the house by the river. She got up at six after spending most of the night tossing in the big bed or staring at the ceiling. Without him in it, the house seemed huge and empty. And now, on Friday morning, she was working on autopilot.

  Once she was at work, Kayla spent the morning talking to the caterers and dishing out instructions to the hire company that was providing the tables and chairs for the benefit the following evening. At ten o’clock Ash and Connie stopped by to help set up the tables and by midday she was confident the event would run smoothly and ticked several things off her to-do list. But she was kidding herself. She had one thing on her mind. Liam. By one o’clock she’d had enough, and with Shirley managing things, she left the museum and headed down the block to O’Sullivan’s. The foyer was busy and she knew several guests had arrived early for the benefit.

  She headed upstairs and met Connie in the outer office.

  “Liam’s not here,” Connie said and smiled. “He’s talking with the chef, but I can call him if you like?”

  “I’ll wait,” Kayla said and managed a smile. “And don’t forget to pick up your dress from Alma’s today. When I collected my gown they said you still needed a final fitting.”

  Connie shrugged. “It’ll be fine. Nothing a safety pin won’t fix.”

  Kayla noticed that the other woman seemed distracted as she moved items around on her desk. “Everything okay, Connie?”

  She looked up. “Yes...of course.”

  Kayla wasn’t convinced. “If you need to talk...”

  Connie looked hesitant, then stopped what she was doing and met her gaze. “Okay...have you ever done something so completely out of character that you can’t quite believe it?”

  Kayla’s brows rose dramatically. “You’re asking me that?”

  The other woman gave out a brittle laugh. “I did something foolish and I can’t undo it.” She sighed. “But enough about me. So, I guess your secret relationship isn’t such a secret anymore?”

  “Not exactly,” Kayla replied and grinned. “Thank you, by the way, for staying quiet about the whole thing for as long as you did.”

  Connie shrugged. “I’m not much for gossip. It’s been quite an interesting few weeks, though...with everything that’s gone on.”

  “You mean with my aunt and Jonah? Yes, interesting just about covers it.”

  Connie dropped her gaze back to the table and flicked a few keys on the computer. “Well, I’m sure it will all work out for...everyone. You can wait in Liam’s office if you like.”

  Liam turned up about ten minutes later—enough time for Kayla to stew on the fact that he’d acted like an arrogant, autocratic ass in front o
f her landlord and moved out without giving her a chance to explain. When he walked through the office door she was prepared to give it to him in spades, but one look at him and her anger subsided a little. Because he looked terrible. Exhausted. He was pale and there were dark circles below his eyes. For a moment she wondered if he was coming down with the flu.

  He saw her sitting on the chair by the window, but didn’t say a word. Instead, he moved around his desk and pulled a bottle of aspirin from the drawer, shaking out a couple of pills and tossing them in his mouth. Then he turned to face her and she saw his bloodshot eyes. Okay, maybe not the flu.

  “Are you hungover?”

  He winced, as though the sound of her voice made his head hurt. “That’s usually what comes from drinking two-thirds of a bottle of whiskey.”

  “You don’t drink.”

  He raised a brow briefly. “Apparently I do.”

  “You didn’t come home last night. I got your text... I was worried. I thought...”

  “You thought what?”

  She shrugged. “That you’d moved out.”

  He winced again and took a shallow breath. “I wasn’t in any fit state to drive last night.”

  “I would have picked you up or—”

  “Let’s just say I wasn’t in any fit state to be around last night,” he said, cutting her off. “I came back here, met my brothers in the bar and grabbed a bottle of Jack. Drank until I was numb and then I slept right there,” he said and pointed to the sofa by the wall.

  Kayla took a steadying breath. “Liam. Last night...how it looked... I want you to know I—”

  “It looked like you were in another man’s apartment and sitting on his couch. And if I acted like a jealous husband, that’s because that is exactly what I was last night.”