Читать книгу A Mother in the Making - Lilian Darcy, Lilian Darcy - Страница 8

Chapter Four

Carmen O’Brien had beautiful eyes, twinkling and chocolate brown and alive.

When she came back into the house, they were clouded with worry, and Jack wanted to ask her what was wrong.

He wanted to ask her a whole lot of things, actually.

Was Terri being a witch to you?

Did you love that kiss as much as I did?

When can I see you again? Can we dress up a little and go out somewhere, and could it have nothing to do with hammers and paint?

But Cormack had questions about the cabinets, and Ryan needed settling in. He would be hungry any minute, if he wasn’t already. There was no time for Jack to follow through on what had happened with the two of them just now in the basement. Carmen went to slip past him in the direction of the kitchen and he stopped her with a quick touch on her arm. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She looked up at him, earrings long and delicate against her neck, eyes very dark. “My baby sister’s being a pain in the butt, that’s all.”

She leaned a little closer than she really needed to. It was more like a sway than a lean, as if she didn’t know it was happening and wasn’t fully in control. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, frozen by the strength of the pull between them. He could almost see it shimmering in the air. He could feel it on his skin, in the beat of his heart and in the weight of his groin.

“I have a couple of those,” he told her, struggling to focus. “Pain-in-the-butt baby sisters, I mean. They live in Florida, not far from my mom and dad. Both married with kids.” For some reason he wanted the two of them to pour out their life stories to each other, this minute.

“I wish my sister lived in Florida.” She looked up at him, half smiling but not really seeing him anymore, Jack thought. Her sister held the prime position in her thoughts, and he wondered about their relationship. “Florida. Alaska. Greenland. The moon. But she’s only eighteen so I can’t get rid of her just yet.”

She sounded grim about it, but then she sighed and he picked up on the care that lay beneath her words. The care and the aura of responsibility. Why was that? Didn’t the O’Briens have parents?

Suddenly he had a whole lot more questions for her.

“Dad?” Speaking of parents… “Are we gonna eat soon?” Ryan asked. “I’m hungry. Like, starving hungry.”

With the kitchen out of action, Jack hadn’t been able to stock up on good kid food. He’d been holding his breath, waiting for Terri’s criticism on the issue, and he’d marshaled his defense ahead of time. He had set up a camp stove in the living room, and they were having home-cooked chicken burgers tonight, with non-negotiable lettuce and grated carrot in the filling.

He hated feeling that he had so much to prove. He’d spent the past ten years, almost, being the best father he could. Why did Terri always assume that he was going to feed their son nothing but junk? Why did she always act as if she was the only one who cared about his well-being?