He wanted to crawl back into bed and pick up where they’d left off a few hours ago, when they’d finally fallen asleep, satiated and exhausted.
“It’s not even six yet,” she complained and rolled over onto her back again, placing an arm over her eyes with a theatrical flourish. “I don’t have to be at work until nine! And you’re on leave anyway!”
“I never knew you weren’t a morning person.” He grinned and stopped rubbing at his hair.
“God, you even took a shower.” Her full lips twisted in disapproval, her arm still covering her eyes. “Are you Superman or something?”
“Nope, just a gentleman,” her corrected, feeling unadulterated joy course through his veins. He threw the towel on the foot of the bed and then actually crawled back in with Morgan, pulling her arm aside to look into her sleepy face. “Gentleman that I am, I planned to sneak out and buy fresh croissants for you,” he murmured, staring into her green eyes. “But unfortunately, I woke you up.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t sing in the shower if you don’t want me to wake up,” she said, reaching out a hand to gingerly touch his swollen nose. “Does it still hurt?”
“Barely,” he replied contentedly. “I didn’t even notice that I was singing.”
“You were.” She yawned and wrinkled her nose. “A Dixie Chicks song. We should discuss your taste in music.”
“Okay.” He laughed as he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly on her pouting mouth. “I’m flexible in that respect.”
“That’s good to know.” When he slowly pulled away and lifted his head, she gave him a stern look. “Don’t let anyone hurt you again,” she chided him softly.
“Does that mean you’re concerned about me?” He couldn’t hide the satisfaction in his voice.
“It means that I don’t want anyone to hurt you.” Her hand caressed his cheek. “Your pretty face.”
“Pretty?” His eyebrows shot up. “You think I’m pretty?”
She stretched and purred like a kitten just discovering a bowl of milk. “Something wrong with that?”
“Women are pretty, men aren’t,” Kyle stated categorically.
“Whatever.”
“Yes.” He placed a hand on her butt and nodded with finality. “You’re very pretty, for example—and I’m not just talking about your face.”
Her reply was a pillow aimed at his head.
“Hey! What was that for?”
Morgan lay back and grabbed her duvet. “Get back up and go get us those croissants you mentioned. I’m starving.”
“That’s because you had too much sex,” he informed her, pulling away the cover to admire all the pretty parts of her body he’d been talking about.
While he studied her with relish, Morgan asked, “What exactly are you doing?”
“My guess is that I’m going to need twenty minutes to get to the store and come back. So I’m memorizing what to look forward to when I return.”
“Ha!” She pulled the cover over her body with a jerk. “Dream on, big guy.”
Kyle rose from the bed and slipped into his boxers. “I will, darling.” From the corner of his eye, he saw her sit up and watch him get dressed.
“What are your plans for today? I mean, you don’t have to work, so …”
He shrugged and buttoned his jeans. “Not sure. I could help out my sister-in-law, take her girls to go do something fun, since they don’t have school. In the afternoon, I wanted to go see Cody. They scheduled a few pre-discharge exams. And I could make dinner for tonight. I make a mean spaghetti all’arrabbiata.”
“That sounds delicious.”
Kyle looked up, because he detected insecurity in her voice. “Is something the matter?”
“Since you mentioned Cody …” Moran pulled the cover up higher. “I should talk to Mr. Simpson today, so he can find someone else to handle the case.”
He gave her a pensive look and stopped dressing. “Is it mandatory that another caseworker handles the case if we’re a couple?”
Morgan shrugged helplessly. “Mr. Simpson thinks my recommendation is a mere formality anyway, Kyle. He would give you custody in a heartbeat.”
He frowned in confusion, even though the relief of hearing her say that made his knees weak. Nevertheless, he asked shyly, “Didn’t you tell me yesterday that you couldn’t recommend me as a foster father because of the fight?”
“I should apologize for my words, Kyle.”
“You were angry.” He gave her a mirthless smile. “We all say things we don’t mean when we’re angry.”
“But I insinuated that you might flip out and hurt Cody. I never should have said a thing like that.”
“Do you think I might?” he asked softly.
“Of course not.” Her shoulders slumped. “Of course I don’t think you could. You couldn’t harm a hair on his head. I’m sorry I implied you might.”
“Hey.” He looked at her with great tenderness. “Let’s move past that, okay?”
“Okay.” Morgan took a deep breath. “But I should still give the case to a colleague.”
“Do you think there’ll be trouble because Pam isn’t actually my girlfriend?”
Morgan shook her head. “Kyle,” she said despondently, “you’re a pediatrician, have no criminal record, do volunteer work, and have a wonderful family. The agency doesn’t care whether you have a girlfriend or not.”
He lowered his head, now utterly confused. “So it’s all good, isn’t it?”
“Of course it is.”
“Then why do you sound like it’s the end of the world?”
She seemed to search for the right words. “Because I’m no longer able to be objective in my job—and I’m not just talking about your case. I … I just don’t know if I can handle the responsibility anymore. The well-being of these kids is always at stake.”
“But—”
“If I ever make another mistake like I did with Sandy Jackson, I …” Morgan paused and gave him a lost look. “How am I supposed to live with that?”
Kyle took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked down at his hands and licked his dry lips. “In my first year of med school, we had a two-year-old boy who’d been in a car crash. It was a multi-car pile-up with a dozen injured people, and we were understaffed. My supervisor was called to tend to another patient. I was supposed to get the boy to the OR, along with a nurse, but he suddenly lost consciousness. He went into cardiac arrest in the elevator.” Kyle paused, overwhelmed by the memory of the helplessness he had felt.
“What did you do?” Morgan asked, pulling him back into the present.
“What I should have done was put a tube down his throat to make sure his brain got enough oxygen, but I couldn’t get the tube into his trachea. I’d never done it with such a small child.” Kyle squinted. “I used a defibrillator and gave him artificial respiration until the elevator finally reached the OR floor. He was taken care of right away, but …”
“But?”
He smiled with sadness in his eyes. “But because his brain had been cut off from the oxygen supply for too long, Miles is handicapped today.”
“Kyle.” Her hand sought his and squeezed it. “I hope nobody blamed you for that. You did everything that was necessary.”
He looked her right in the eyes. “Nobody blamed me, except for myself. But even if I had managed to put that tube down his throat and he’d died from blood loss, I’d still have blamed myself. We feel guilty because we’re responsible for these people’s lives. We’re in charge. That’s what makes a good doctor.” He squeezed her hand in return. “And in the same way, feeling responsible for one’s charges makes a good caseworker.”
Something twitched in Morgan’s face. “Kyle, don’t …”
“You are a good caseworker, Morgan. If you weren’t, you would not suffer so deeply over an apparently depressed woman who didn’t see any other way out than taking the lives of her children.”
“But I should have seen that,” Morgan sna
pped. “I should have noticed how bad her depression really was!”
“And I should have known how to put a tube into a two-year-old’s trachea.”
“That’s different.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not.”
“How can I go on and do my job after all that’s happened?” she asked, desperation creeping into her voice.
Kyle kept looking into her eyes. “How can you not, after all that’s happened?”
She choked out his name.
He slowly leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll go buy the croissants now, while you get ready for work. One of us has to bring home the bacon after all.”
Even though there were tears in her voice, she croaked in mock-outrage, “Are you trying to give me orders, Kyle Fitzpatrick?”
“Not just trying.” He grinned. “And while we’re at it: don’t make any plans for Sunday. You’re going to meet my family.”
He watched with glee as her eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me.” He rose and nodded firmly. “I need you at my side. My mother’s new boyfriend will be there as well. I need backup. Moral support and all that.”
“But …”
Kyle put on his shirt. “So you don’t mistake me for Ryan, love, let me tell you that I’m the charming and handsome twin.”
“Ha!” Morgan snorted. “Don’t worry, I’ll know which one to go home with—your nose will give you away. It’s almost as big as your ego!”
Chapter 14
For someone who had lived alone with her great-aunt, and later with just a foster mother, the chaotic family life of the Fitzpatricks came as genuine culture shock.
At least that was what it felt like for Morgan, who was sitting next to Kyle at his mom’s dinner table, trying to follow the maze of conversation going on around her. The gray-haired man sitting next to Kyle’s endearing mother seemed to feel similarly lost. She and Bill were the only people at the table who were not yet familiar with the wild clan. Morgan could imagine how Bill must feel, meeting most of the children, children-in-law, and grandchildren for the very first time. It was the same for her after all.
She’d been nervous over it all week. And she still was.
Of course she wanted to leave a good impression—especially on the incredible woman who stayed on top of her five children, who calmly overlooked the fact that her grandchildren—the number of which Morgan wasn’t completely sure of yet—were romping and rioting all over the house, and who had prepared a dinner of several courses for twelve adults and various children in the midst of all the bustle. Both her house and her garden looked immaculate, which made Morgan feel unbearably guilty for neglecting to clean her windows for months.
Maybe she should have ironed the blouse she was wearing after all.
“Tell us, Bill, how did you and Mom meet?” Kyle’s oldest brother gave the gray-haired man a friendly, encouraging look.
But before Bill had a chance to answer the question, Ryan spoke up. “They met at a church function.” Much to Morgan’s initial horror, he actually looked exactly like Kyle—if you disregarded the tiny scar at the corner of Kyle’s mouth.
“I think Bill could have told us that himself,” Heath Fitzpatrick replied with raised brows.
Shane, the second-oldest brother, chimed in, “Maybe Ryan was trying to distract us all from the story of how he and his girlfriend met.” With the same personable air that his brother had exhibited, he turned to Bill and explained cheerfully, “Ryan met Jordan while she was on duty. Unfortunately, Ryan was the victim who’d been chained to his own bed with his own handcuffs by an angry woman. Naked, I might add. Jordan had to free him from his predicament with bolt cutters. But that was really the only obstacle to their young love.”
Morgan watched Bill’s eyes widen, and then he almost choked on a bite of meatloaf.
Ellen Fitzpatrick did not look happy at all. “I thought we’d agreed to act like a completely normal family for once. We don’t want to frighten away Morgan or Bill so soon.”
“I think your family is fascinating, Ellen,” the man assured her, patting her hand.
Kyle’s only sister observe the loving gesture between Bill and Ellen with an expression that seemed anything but happy. “As you probably know, our mom only told us about you very recently, Bill, so I’d be interested to hear how serious you are about your relationship.”
Heath was the first to interfere. “I don’t think that’s any of our business, Kayleigh,” he chided.
Morgan could see Kyle’s sister was very stubborn, because she ignored her brother completely and continued to look at Bill. “No offense, Bill, but as a physician, I’m well aware that STDs are very common among older people, too.”
Kyle’s mom turned beet-red. “Kayleigh! Are you out of your mind?”
“But Mom—”
“You will apologize to Bill right now!”
“Aidan, didn’t you bring a gag for your wife?” Shane piped up from across the table.
There was a moment of awkward silence, in which Morgan thanked God it was Bill being assaulted with such outrageous questions.
When nobody else said a word, Ryan cleared his throat. “For fuck’s sake, Kayleigh! Are you going to ask them about their sex life as well? Jesus Christ!”
A little girl with blond curls yelled triumphantly, “Uncle Ryan said a swear word!”
“And he talked about sex,” a dark-haired boy added. “Again!”
“He’s got to put ten cents in the swear jar, doesn’t he, Mom?”
“Yes, he does, Kayla,” the blond sister-in-law, Hayden, confirmed.
Kyle’s twin made a face and pulled out his wallet. Instead of a small coin, he handed his sister-in-law a twenty-dollar bill. “Here. See the twenty as a down payment for my next million swear words.”
Shane grinned. “Is it possible you don’t understand the purpose of the swear jar, my dear brother?”
“Shut your trap, Shane!”
“That’s another ten cents for the swear jar.” Hayden put the money in her pocket. “Honey, you can stop working now. Thanks to your bother, your daughter’s college tuition will be paid in full.”
And thanks to that slapstick moment, the atmosphere at the table had lost its tension again, though Ellen Fitzpatrick continued to stare at her daughter with a stern expression. “Kayleigh, into the kitchen,” she demanded harshly. “I need to talk to you.”
Kayleigh looked as if she was going to protest, but she obeyed her mother and disappeared with her into the kitchen. There was a general sigh of relief as soon as both women had left the room.
Kyle hadn’t said much at all so far, but now he addressed Bill. “Please don’t take Kayleigh too seriously. First of all, she’s pregnant, which is obviously messing with her head. And secondly, she hasn’t gotten enough sleep for months with her little twins. And thirdly, she thinks she has to protect our mother. Once she gets to know you better, she’ll be your best friend. Trust me.”
“I’m not offended by your sister,” Bill said, sounding completely sincere. “My son was very close to his mother, too, and he wasn’t too thrilled when I told him I’d met a woman.”
“So your son also tried to enlighten our mom on venereal disease at the dinner table?” Heath grumbled sarcastically.
Bill gave him a smile that showed he did not easily lose his cool. “No, he didn’t, but my son’s not a physician. He’s a car salesman. So he was outraged to hear Ellen had never had the oil changed in her car.”
“I’m with him,” Aidan chimed in. “I keep telling Ellen the same thing.”
“Hey, Bill,” Ryan piped up from across the table. “I need a new car. Do I get a discount if I buy it from your son? You know … family rebate or something?”
Hayden rolled her eyes. “Be nice, Ryan!”
“If such a thing exists”—Kyle cleared his throat and patted Bill on the back like an old pal—“I also need a car soon. Do you think your son would trade for my old bike?�
��
“Hey, guys, leave the poor man alone,” black-haired Thorne, who Morgan had chatted with earlier, chided the twins. “But since we’re all bugging you about something, let me throw in my bit. I want Brady to learn an instrument, so he has something else to do besides play video games all day. What instrument would you recommend?”
The dark-haired boy practically howled in protest. “Mom!”
As she watched Bill chuckle and relax, Morgan put a hand on Kyle’s knee and squeezed it. It seemed that the Fitzpatricks were rough around the edges, but their hearts were in the right place.
When Kyle leaned over to kiss Morgan, Jordan piped up loudly, “After Bill’s been grilled sufficiently, I vote we start with Morgan.”
“Good idea.” Shane looked at her with a wolfish grin. “Are you sleeping with my little brother? And how much do you know about STDs?”
Kyle put a protective arm around Morgan’s shoulder. “What a question from the man who’s still banned from setting foot in O’Reary’s. Shane, why don’t you tell Bill the story about you and Ted’s niece?”
“No need,” Thorne replied in her husband’s stead. “And knowing the Fitzpatricks, I’d say the question of whether they’re sleeping together is moot.”
“Oh my.” Bill laughed. “Is there anything else I should know?”
“Just wait until Thanksgiving,” Hayden groaned. “You’ll see certain people physically fight over the last piece of turkey.”
“Don’t look at me,” Heath protested. “I’ve always been peaceful.”
“Yeah,” Ryan snorted disdainfully. “Because you always enter a comatose state after devouring at least half the turkey.”
Morgan joined the giggling, and Kayleigh and Ellen return a minute later. Kyle’s older sister looked crestfallen and began to apologize to Bill.
A Matter of Trust (The Boston Five Series #5) Page 15