by Mari Carr
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I noticed when you listed his attributes, you didn’t mention his sense of humor or ability to have fun. I think those things should rank pretty high on your genetics list.”
“So you’re a nature-over-nurture guy? You don’t think I can raise a fun-loving kid? Seriously?”
Colm knew without a doubt any child reared by Kelli would have an awesome sense of humor.
“Although,” she said, tapping her finger on her lips, “that actually isn’t a bad test to run. Besides, when he sees me win the costume contest, he’ll realize how incredibly awesome I am, and I bet he agrees then and there to be my sperm donor.”
“You’re not winning the contest this year. I’m going balls to the wall.”
Kelli shrugged as if unconcerned. “I think you forget who you’re talking to. I’m currently the record holder in terms of wins.”
“Bullshit. We’re tied at three each, and you know it.”
“Fuck off,” Kelli said. “I’m not having the Baron Samedi debate with you again. You cheated that year.”
Colm shook his head, fighting like the devil to hide his smile. “Kelli, Kelli, Kelli, there is such a thing as a sore loser.”
“Nope. Not a sore loser. You found out what my costume was going to be—something I’ll never forgive Paddy for—and—”
“In his defense, he just asked me who Baron Samedi was. I figured out why he was asking on my own.”
“And then came as the same thing. Your whole family thought we’d planned it.”
“And crowned us both the winners. A tie.”
“I wore it better. Sunnie even said so, and since it wasn’t a planned,” she air quoted, “‘partner costume,’ I was the winner because it was my awesome idea. So I have three wins to your two.”
Colm let the debate end there, simply because they’d already had this fight approximately forty-two thousand times since that Halloween. He let his casual shrug tell her he wasn’t conceding. “Doesn’t matter. This year, I’ve got it in the bag. My family might even decide it’s the greatest costume of all time and stop holding the contest altogether since it’ll never be topped.”
“We’ll see.” Then she glanced at her phone and winced. “It’s after one, Colm.”
He groaned as he pushed himself up from the couch. “Tomorrow is not going to be fun.”
Kelli followed him to the kitchen as he grabbed both of them a bottle of water, then they locked up, turned out the lights, and headed for the stairs.
When they reached the top, she stopped at the threshold to Finn’s room, watching as Colm continued to his door. Once he was there, he turned back to look at her.
“Night, Kell.”
“Night,” she repeated. “And, Colm, thanks.”
He nodded and smiled before walking into his room and closing the door, trying to recall if Kelli Peterson had ever thanked him for anything before.
Then he tried to remember if he’d ever done anything worthy of her thanks.
That thought provoked a chuckle…until he shed his clothes and flopped down onto his bed.
Kelli wanted a baby.
Those words drifted through his mind as he closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by the image of him holding his own baby in his arms, rocking the little thing to sleep.
It was peaceful and perfect.
Until he realized Kelli was there too.
What the fuck was that about?
“Too much Guinness,” he murmured just before he fell asleep.
Chapter Three
Kelli laughed once again when Colm walked—or more accurately, stomped—by her in his Hagrid costume. The man had actually bought platform boots that added at least six more inches to his already six-foot-four height.
When she and Robbie had first arrived at the Collins Dorm for the Halloween party, it had taken her close to five minutes to figure out it was Colm in the costume. The majority of his face was hidden beneath a shaggy beard and wig, and he’d added quite a bit of padding under the long, tattered trench coat. No part of the well-dressed lawyer was present tonight, and though it killed her to admit it, he looked so much like the character, it was uncanny.
“I’m going to grab another beer,” Robbie said, pointing toward the kitchen where the keg was. “Want anything?”
She lifted her wineglass. “Nope, I’m good. Just refilled. Something I’m going to pay for tomorrow.” She really did need to get a grip on her wine consumption. She was out of control this week.
Oh, who was she fooling? This decade.
Robbie grinned. “We’re celebrating.”
“Damn right we are,” she said with a laugh as he walked away.
“What are you celebrating? You lost the costume contest, Merida,” Colm said, somehow managing to sneak up on her from behind, a pretty amazing feat considering he really wasn’t very quiet in those boots.
God only knew what the patrons of Pat’s Pub below thought was going on up here. Colm’s dad, Tris, had come up earlier to ask if they were using a jackhammer on the floor. He’d taken one look at Colm’s costume, rolled his eyes, muttered “competitive bastard” under his breath, and gone right back downstairs.
She’d been so sure she would take first prize this year. She had the hair, the dress, the bow and arrows, everything just perfect for her favorite Scottish Disney princess. She’d worn the costume to school yesterday, and her kids had gone out of their little minds. Of course, it helped that she had long red hair and they constantly told her she looked just like Merida.
Kelli narrowed her eyes at Lucas and Caitlyn, this year’s costume contest winners. “They had a very unfair advantage.”
Colm chuckled. “You’re not kidding. But you have to admit that costume was a pretty awesome way to tell the family she’s pregnant.”
Colm’s cousin and partner at the Collins and Collins law firm, Caitlyn, had shown up with her husband, the two of them dressed as Daddy and Mommy Shark, while Caitlyn had pinned a stuffed shark to the front of her shirt with a note attached that read “Baby Shark arriving in April.”
“You really didn’t know she was pregnant?” Kelli asked.
“No. And I fully intend to read her the riot act for that at work on Monday.”
Kelli could tell from Colm’s tone that he would do no such thing. He and Caitlyn were very close, and while she couldn’t see much of his face, she could tell he was beyond happy for his cousin.
He lifted one leg. “I’m just glad Sunnie awarded the prize early. I’m done with these boots. They’re killing my feet.”
Kelli lifted her dress to reveal her bare feet. “I kicked off my heels two seconds after she pronounced Caitlyn and Lucas the winners.” She pointed to where she’d shucked them into a corner. “Wanna add to my pile?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll do that in a second. You didn’t tell me what you’re celebrating.”
Kelli’s smile widened as she rose up on tiptoe and leaned as close to Colm’s ear as she could manage. “Robbie said yes. We went to dinner before the party and talked some more. He’s in on the you know what.”
Colm nodded, but she couldn’t tell if he was smiling or not, thanks to the damn bushy beard. Something in his eyes made her think he wasn’t happy for her, which bothered her more than she cared to consider. He’d really seemed to get it the other night. So much so, she’d slept like a baby—granted, the wine had probably helped—for the first time in months.
She sure as hell hadn’t intended to confide her hope for a baby to Colm, but the fact he’d been supportive had gone a long way toward setting her mind at ease.
Mainly because she knew there were more than enough people in her life—her mother, primarily—who weren’t going to get it, and who were going to make damn sure she knew it.
Her concerns were washed away after his next question.
“So…when is he going to transfer the funds?” Colm asked.
The fact that Kelli laughed proved she’d had too much
damn wine tonight. “Really, Colm? Transfer the funds?”
He chuckled. “You want me to come up with some other way to describe it? Because I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I could—”
“No. Please. Spare me. We going to do it over Christmas break, mid-December.”
“Damn. That’s soon.”
Kelli shook her head. “Not really. Now that he’s said yes, I’m sort of wondering if I should push it up. Don’t want him to change his mind, now that it’s decided.” She glanced over at Caitlyn and felt the strongest pang of…desire. It sounded cliché, but Caitlyn really did glow.
Kelli couldn’t wait to be pregnant.
“She’s really happy,” Colm observed, clearly looking at his cousin as well. “Not sure I’ve ever seen her that happy, and she’s been pretty obnoxiously in love with Lucas for nearly four years.”
“Obnoxiously in love. Yeah. That’s a great description. For pretty much everyone in this room right now,” Kelli said, looking around.
The apartment was packed with the Collins family and their friends. Sunnie, the party planner, was reloading the pigs-in-a-blanket platter with help from her husband, Landon. Finn was scrolling through the music selections with his partners, Layla and Miguel. Fergus and Aubrey were slow dancing in a corner to a song apparently only the two of them could hear, considering the upbeat, fast tune that was currently filling the apartment.
On and on it went. Yvonne and Leo were there, as well as Hunter and Ailis, Lochlan and May. Every corner of the room was occupied by Colm’s cousins, all of them with their significant others, dancing, laughing, talking.
Being obnoxiously in love.
Kelli shook off her sudden melancholy and pushed it down deep. Then she heard Colm’s loud sigh and realized, in this room surrounded by happy lovers, they had something in common.
God help her. This was what life had come to. She now had a kindred spirit in Colm.
Fuck.
Looking around the room again, she spotted Robbie and Brooke in the kitchen, talking as he poured a beer from the keg.
“Your sperm donor is putting the moves on my date,” Colm muttered.
Kelli pointed to his pink umbrella. “You’re the one with the wand. Expelliarmus his ass.”
Colm laughed.
“You know, it’s a shame Brooke didn’t get the word that this was a costume contest,” Kelli teased.
Colm snorted. “Don’t be catty, Kell. I think she’s rocking the Regina George look. I like the tight pink sweater. Really accentuates her…” He held his hands out in front of his chest like he was carrying invisible melons, letting her fill in the blanks.
She snorted. “Like I said the other night. Just your type. Big tits. Brain optional.”
“Brooke’s brain is just fine. I mean…she’s not the most stimulating conversationalist, but she’s nice enough, and I’ve now had a complete rundown of the last season of The Bachelor. It was a nail biter. Should I catch you up?”
Kelli made a horrified face. “I’ll pass on the recap. Thanks anyway. So…are you still planning on rounding the rest of the bases?”
“Oh yeah. Hagrid is getting laid tonight.”
“Please,” she said, holding up her hand. “I don’t need the kinky Harry Potter, Mean Girls visual. I just ate.”
Colm spun his umbrella wand like a baton. “You’re just jealous.”
“And you’re a slut.”
He pulled her hair, winking suggestively, reminding her of his questions the other night about her sexual experiences. Last night, she’d actually spent a little time with her vibrator, her sexy fantasy one of bondage and a spanking and even the hairpulling. She’d come harder than she had in a very long time.
Until she realized Colm had been the man in the fantasy.
Then every loosey-goosey, happy feeling evaporated and she’d gotten up to take a cold shower, trying to forget about it.
She wasn’t sure she’d be able to pull that fantasy out again in the future. She was too afraid of a repeat performance. The last thing she needed was to start thinking about Colm as anything other than her lifelong frenemy.
“You sure you want to go the turkey baster route? I bet Han Solo wouldn’t mind pulling his lightsaber out for you.”
Kelli glanced back at Robbie, who had now been shanghaied into helping Sunnie add more ice to the keg bucket. She had to admit he was passing her Collins test with flying colors, able to hang with the crazy, fun-loving family easily.
“First of all, Han Solo doesn’t have a lightsaber. He has a blaster.”
“Even better,” Colm interjected, but she ignored him.
“This isn’t about sex, Colm. I want a baby. Not Robbie. He’s a nice guy, but we tried the dating thing and it didn’t work. Just like it hasn’t worked with the other three-thousand, nine-hundred and forty-two guys I’ve gone out with since high school.”
“That thing with Robbie was in college. Maybe he’s gotten better in bed.”
Kelli groaned. “You have a one-track mind. He and I never slept together. And I told you, I’m taking myself out of the meat market.”
“So you’re never going out with another man?”
“No. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just not waiting for Prince Charming to arrive and sweep me off my feet. I’ve finally realized that me going for what I truly want—”
“A baby,” he added.
“Isn’t tied to me having a ring on my finger. This isn’t an all-or-nothing proposition.”
“Yeah, but it’s going to be a heck of a lot harder to date with a kid. You know that, right?”
“Seriously, Colm? Is the male ego so large and so fragile that it can’t stand up to an independent, single mother?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh, okay, so if it’s not that, then I guess I’m supposed to cave to some archaic societal stricture that says a woman has to wait for marriage before she can become a mother because the poor, simple-minded female couldn’t possibly raise a child on her own. Is that right?”
“You’re putting words in my mouth that I’m not saying.”
“Are you thinking them?”
He paused, then—wise man—he shook his head. “No. I’m not. I meant what I said the other night, Kelli. You’ll be a great mom, and I know you’re perfectly capable of doing it on your own.”
“It’ll probably be easier without a man,” she grumbled.
He chuckled. “Probably.”
She gave him a rueful, apologetic smile. “Sorry. I guess you can tell I’m sort of gearing myself up to defend my decision against the naysayers. There are going to be plenty of people in my life—other friends, colleagues at work, my mother—who are going to feel it’s their God-given right to express their opinion about how I should live my life.”
“You can blame social media for that. Just remember, it’s your decision, your life. If anyone doesn’t agree, just say fuck ’em.”
“You’ve met my mother, Colm. Do you seriously think that’s going to work?”
Colm didn’t bother to hide his wince. “Maybe you shouldn’t tell your mom until the kid’s eighteen and off to college.”
Kelli laughed. “Believe me, I’ve considered that.” She loved her mother, she really did. But her mother tested her. Frequently. Daily.
If a person looked up overbearing in the dictionary, Barb Peterson’s picture would be there as the prime example. No doubt every teacher and principal Kelli ever had was glad to see the backside of her leaving their class or school forever, not because of anything she did, but because it meant they wouldn’t have to deal with Barb anymore. Her mother was loud, brusque, narrow-minded, and demanding, and, as much as it shamed Kelli to admit, she’d spent her entire life completely mortified by the woman.
“Don’t envy you that conversation,” Colm said, and his tone was so serious, so kind, she knew he wasn’t giving her shit. He was sincere.
“Thanks. I don’t know how—”
Before she could cont
inue, Padraig stumbled over, his speech slightly slurred. “Oh man. Who left you two alone together? Is everything okay over here? Do I need to ring the bell to end the round?”
“Wow. Bourbon much, Farmer Collins?” Kelli asked, when she caught a whiff of his breath.
Padraig rarely got drunk. In fact, Kelli could count the number of times on one hand, and four of those would have been in the weeks after Mia’s death.
Tonight. He was…
“Jesus, Paddy,” Colm said, scowling. “You’re plastered.”
Emmy stood next to him, looking absolutely adorable. She’d talked Padraig into doing a partner costume with her—something Kelli took the time to point out to Colm as a way of teaching him what a true partner costume looked like. Padraig was a farmer, while Emmy was a strawberry.
Emmy gave them a wry grin, obviously as taken aback by Padraig’s current state as they were. “Apparently, he did some pregaming down at the pub with your Pop Pop before the party started.”
“Shit, I’d say he pregamed, tailgated, day-drank through the game, and celebrated the triple overtime win. How about some water, Paddy?” Colm offered, intent on leading his brother to the kitchen.
“Nope. I’m having fun. Water will just kill my buzz.”
“I’m not sure there’s enough water in the world to do that,” Kelli said. “But just for argument’s sake, what do you say we give it a try?”
“Let me have that.” Colm took Padraig’s cup from him, sipping from it. “Jesus. Did you forget to add the Coke?”
“Coke is just there to add a splash of color,” Padraig explained. “Give me my drink. I don’t lecture you two when you knock ’em back at the pub for hours on end.”
Kelli looked at Colm and shrugged. “He’s right. He doesn’t. So…Colm. We have a choice to make. Are we going to be the voice of reason or go to the next level with him?”
Colm rubbed his forehead. “I’m still suffering from leveling up with you on Wednesday. A one-day buffer in between isn’t enough.”
Kelli didn’t reply. Just gave him a look that was pure dare.
“Fine. Where’s your bottle of bourbon, Paddy?”