“It was just a lucky guess, Fi. And I might not even have thought about it if you hadn’t told me she was sick. I was here one time, but you’re here every day, all day. It might feel to you like you don’t know what you’re doing, but anyone who sees you with Shea would say differently.” He squeezed her shoulders gently, closing the gap between them on the couch again, and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Do you have anyone who can help you? Like a therapist for Shea, if she needs that?”
She shook her head. “Not really. The public school she goes to works hard with her when they can, but they just don’t have the resources she needs. There’s a school just outside of Woodlawn for special needs that has wonderful programs, but it’s a private school. I can’t afford the tuition, and it’s pretty exclusive, so I haven’t even been able to land an interview.”
Kieran frowned. “So she’s never had any help?”
“Our mother took her to an occupational therapist for a while, plus several other types of therapists when she was younger. My mom worked three waitressing jobs to pay for it, and when she died, there was nothing left,” Fiona explained.
His heart ached as he thought of all she’d been through. “What about your dad?”
“We’ve never known him, not really. He left when I was a baby, only came back for a few days here and there. Shea came about from one of those visits, but after she was born, he stopped visiting entirely. My mother remarried eventually, but he wasn’t a nice man.” Fiona leaned into the couch, resting her head on his arm, which was stretched along the back cushions. She looked exhausted, and Kieran felt guilty for questioning her. “When my mother died, I worked so hard to keep Shea with me. I was barely twenty-one, and after arduous evaluations and court dates, they finally gave me full custody, but Child Services kept checking in on me. The constant threat that they’d take her…it was almost too much. They didn’t trust I could take care of her on my own, and I worked so hard to prove them wrong.” Fiona sighed heavily. “But maybe they were right.”
“You’ve been through so much, and yet here you are—in your own apartment, the sole guardian of a sweet eight-year-old, and a business owner. I think you’ve more than proved them wrong.” She might have been impressed with his college degree, but what had he ever done with it? Fiona had made things happen for herself, without the resources he was so lucky to have behind him. Everything about her drive and determination fascinated him. “You’re absolutely amazing, flower girl.”
She blushed and bit her bottom lip again, and he found himself leaning into her. If he was any closer, he wouldn’t be able to refrain from tasting her. And damn, how he wanted to taste her.
“You really think so, don’t you?” she asked, almost incredulous, as if she couldn’t understand why.
He squeezed her knee lightly, holding on a little longer than he needed to. “There isn’t the tiniest sliver of doubt in my mind, Fi.”
“I like when you call me Fi. People used to call me that a long time ago. It reminds me of when things were easier and happier.”
He slid his finger softly down her cheek, tracing her jawline. “I like when you’re happy.”
Without warning, Fiona clutched the front of his shirt in her small hands and climbed onto his lap, her face hovering close to his. She invaded his every sense as her light blue eyes became all he could see; her light floral scent tickled his nose, and her shallow breathing was all he heard. And then he was tasting her.
Her lips brushed his lightly, as if still unsure of what she wanted to do. Her uncertainty lasted only a moment before she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and kissed him with unmatched fervor. Kieran was caught off guard by the entire interaction at first, but he quickly wrapped his arms around her back to pull her closer.
He couldn’t not kiss her. He couldn’t pull away.
The sweet sugary taste of her lips, the perfect way her body molded into his. He had wanted this since the first moment he saw her, and yet this was more than he’d ever been able to imagine. She was more, and for this moment, she was his.
He didn’t want it to end, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind wasn’t quieting down. It was telling him, not like this. With every nip of her lips and slide of her fingers through his hair, he knew it wasn’t enough. He knew he was quickly approaching the point where he wouldn’t be able to think of anything but burying himself inside her. And he wanted more than that.
The realization hit him hard.
“Fi”—he groaned when her lips left his for a moment—“we need to slow down.”
He took her hands in his, holding them as he created space between their torsos. Fiona’s breasts heaved as she tried to calm her breathing, and it took all his strength not to watch them.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” Her cheeks flushed to a deep pink as she pulled one of her hands out of his. “You were just trying to help me, and I took advantage of that by throwing myself at you. I’m sure after seeing all my crazy today, you want no part of this.”
Kieran exhaled slowly, letting go of her other hand but not letting her leave his lap yet. He hadn’t meant to push her away; they were going so fast, and he didn’t want her to wake up tomorrow regretting this. Even more than that, he didn’t want this to be a one-night stand. He didn’t want to have sex just because she was feeling upset.
Silently, he cursed himself for sounding so conflicted. At the moment, he was struggling to keep his thoughts above his waist. He couldn’t believe he was turning this gorgeous woman down, and the realization of why frightened him. What he really wanted was her, not her body—although he definitely wanted that, too. A lot…and often.
“Fiona, that’s not it at all,” he assured her. “I want every part of this, and you. I just want you to want me, too. With everything that happened today, how emotional we both are tonight, I can’t let you make a decision you might regret.”
“I’m an adult, Kieran. I can make my own decisions. It was just a kiss.” She refused to make eye contact, but he saw the tears welling again. She stood up from the couch and tried to hide her face from him. “I’m going to go to bed. It’s been a long day. Thanks for the soup, and for helping out with Shea.”
“Fi,” he said as he stood and grabbed her arm. “It wasn’t just a kiss.”
He searched her eyes for some flicker of emotion, something to tell him she understood. Something to tell him she felt it, too. But the tears spilling over her lashes made his heart ache. He lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed the backs of her fingers, never breaking eye contact.
There was nothing overtly sensual about what he was doing. He used his lips against her knuckles, down the back of her hand, and to her wrist to plant small kisses that were as sweet as they were meaningful. Through his movements, he cherished and adored her in a way he was sure she needed—a way that told her she was needed.
Fiona bit the edge of her bottom lip and gulped, her eyes fluttering back and forth between his eyes and his mouth. She felt it, too. Blinking away her tears, she cleared her throat and pulled her hand from his. He let her, because although she was masking her expression once more, he knew he’d made his point.
“Fi,” he started, but when she looked up at him, he paused, concerned that she was about to lie to him, to tell him she didn’t want him.
Fiona wrapped her arms around her waist, as if to hug herself, and kept her gaze down. “Kieran, you were right. It’s been a long and emotional day. For a minute, I let myself forget what my life is like, but you’re right. I can’t do this. I can’t date, and tonight is just another reminder why.”
Kieran shook his head. “No, that’s not what—” But she put her hand up to stop him.
“Good night, Kieran.” Fiona rose up on the tips of her toes and gave him a small kiss on his cheek before she headed toward the bedroom, leaving him standing alone in her living room.
Looking around, Kieran took in the surrounding mess. Not sure what to do with himself, he deci
ded to tidy up so Fiona would have less to do in the morning. As he moved around the room, he replayed their conversation in his head, and it continued to make less and less sense.
He hadn’t meant to make her feel unwanted. In fact, he’d tried to do the exact opposite. She kept trying to tell him she had no room for him in her life, and yet the heated flare in her eyes every time she looked at him told him something different.
He wanted that something different. As he continued picking up paper from the floor, he allowed the realization of earlier to settle over him like a warm blanket. After two gray and solitary years, he’d had a taste of what it would be like to have his own family.
Shea and Fiona were bonded tightly, and they’d opened themselves up for him to join. It wasn’t glamorous or easy, but it was real and inviting. Their love for each other was potent, and he wanted in. Love, trust, and a commitment that he’d never known he’d wanted before. Now they were all he could think about.
Ten minutes later, Kieran locked the door behind him, then left to head home. Tonight had been nothing like he’d ever considered. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but realizing how badly he wanted not only to be with Fiona, but be a part of her family as well, was the most unexpected of all.
Chapter 9
Fiona’s eyes fluttered open early the next morning to a rhythmic banging sound against the bedroom wall. Shea was still sound asleep next to her, sporting her pink headgear, which must be keeping out all the noise from outside. Fiona pushed up on her elbows and yawned, glancing toward the window to see a man standing outside, although not looking directly in her window.
Narrowing her gaze, she suddenly remembered she was on the top floor of the building, and yet somehow there was a man standing outside her window.
Jumping up, she rushed over to the window and pulled the curtains closed. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she pulled open a one-inch section of the drapes, peeking out carefully. The man was still there, paying no attention to her as he leaned against the building with the help of a cherry-picker lift. She saw he was doing some sort of construction on the outside of the building and immediately calmed down. Probably a new sign for the Irish restaurant downstairs; she’d remembered getting a flyer about that recently. Closing the curtains again, she walked back to the bed.
Shea was snoring, although it was more like soft breathing as she starfished across the bed, legs and arms going all directions. Despite it being a double bed, it still felt too small for the two of them together. This whole place felt too small. Shea always complained that Fiona hogged the blankets at night, pulling them off Shea. Fiona felt guilty and had purchased extra blankets to try to compensate.
Leaning over the edge of the bed, she touched the back of her palm to Shea’s forehead. She was still quite warm, but seemed better than when Fiona had checked before bed last night.
Sighing, Fiona went to the bathroom and found some daytime medication that said it helped with fevers. Grabbing a fresh washcloth, she ran it under the faucet and then squeezed the water out. She returned to the bedside and gently pulled the earmuffs off her sister’s head before rubbing her arm, soothing her awake.
“Shay-Shay,” she called her by her infant nickname, “drink this, honey.”
Shea blinked awake and took the medicine in a few small gulps. Fiona gave her some cold water next and then helped her lie back down with a fresh cold washcloth on her forehead.
“I’m going to go make breakfast, okay?” She kissed her gently. “You just relax today; I’m going to call the school and tell them you’re not coming.”
Shea nodded, curling around a pillow and falling back to sleep. Fiona gave her a small smile, then left the bedroom. As she walked through the only other room in their apartment, which combined the dining room, living room, and kitchen, she felt something was off. Doing a slow spin, she realized that the house had been tidied up. The strewn papers and books—everything had been picked up and arranged on the table in neat piles.
Fiona groaned, her hand on her forehead, as embarrassment washed over her. The memories of last night came sliding back like she was looking in a circus mirror. She’d let the poor man into her trashed apartment, then cried in front of him, finally topping the stellar evening off by throwing herself at him, only to get rejected just as fast. On top of everything else he’d done for her, he must have stayed and cleaned up, too.
The memory of his short dark brown hair and bright blue eyes flashed through her mind, along with the memory of how firm his chest and abs had been under her hands. When he’d held her, she felt like she never wanted to move again. The way he kissed, the way he caressed her cheek, all of it was so warm, so loving, so everything she’d ever dreamed of.
The man was her dream come true, and she’d let him go.
She opened the fridge and scanned the few items inside, hoping something would catch her interest. Glancing down at her hand clutching the handle, she remembered how Kieran’s lips had danced over her skin last night. It’d been the sweetest gesture she’d ever experienced, and yet she’d turned from it. From him.
Honestly, she wasn’t even sure why. She’d told herself at the time that Kieran had wanted them to slow down because everything he’d witnessed about her life last night had been too much. She’d expected it, because sometimes it felt like more than she could handle. However, as the cold from the refrigerator caused goosebumps to break out across her skin, she wondered how true that was, or if she’d turned him away because of something else.
Frowning, she thought of what she’d done in her past, the dark truth she didn’t like to revisit. Memories flooded her thoughts, but the truth was that while she truly felt guilty for what she’d had to do, what hurt her more was what Shea had gone through because of it. If Fiona had made Shea her priority that day over three years ago, then Shea never would have seen what she’d seen.
Another reason why she didn’t want to pursue a romantic relationship with Kieran: her focus had to be Shea. It had to. The once-blank face of the man of her dreams now held Kieran’s slightly crooked smile and deeply invading eyes. It was a door she’d almost opened last night, but she was quickly reminded why it needed to remain closed.
Guilt washed through her like bile at what she’d done. At how much she and Shea had both lost because of it.
Cursing under her breath, she grabbed some eggs from the fridge, then a frying pan out of the cupboard. Purposefully focusing on breakfast alone, she turned on the stove and cracked eggs into the pan. It would be the second day in a row her shop would be closed, with no one there to help her.
She had only one employee on weekends—a high school girl who did barely anything to justify her minimum-wage pay. During the week, there was no one to watch the shop when Shea was sick and Fiona had to stay home. Fiona was never going to choose her business over her family, though, a decision she’d firmly made three years ago. While she didn’t regret that, it still sometimes felt as if she was letting her dreams slip through her fingers.
She’d hoped that after having her own shop for three years, she’d be flourishing rather than barely scraping by. She’d worked at the flower shop for several years before taking it over, but just as an employee. She’d loved it so much, and it had done so well, that when the owners decided to sell it and retire to Florida, she’d begged them to let her buy it. The kindly older couple had given her an amazing price for it, but she’d still needed to find the finances to make it happen.
The bank loan she’d taken out a few months before her mother died had helped her buy the shop in the first place, but she still wasn’t making much of a profit. The recommendation of the previous owners and help from her mother with the down payment had gotten her started, but the rest had been up to her. Paying back the bank loan plus covering the wages of her one employee made seeing a profit nearly impossible now. And with needing to spend significant time with Shea, Fiona wasn’t able to put a lot of herself into the business to keep it growing.
Because of that, traffic through the shop had dwindled and, with it, profits.
Last week, the man who owned the building her shop was located in had put a for-sale sign in the upstairs window. The idea of a new landlord was terrifying—would he let her stay, and if he did, would he raise her rent? She certainly couldn’t afford to keep the business open if he did.
She was giving half of herself to her work and the other half to Shea—and as a result, both parts were struggling. Her job and her sister needed her entire focus, and she hadn’t figured out how to do that yet.
Flipping a fried egg over with a sad excuse for a spatula, Fiona’s thoughts returned to the last time she’d picked her store over Shea. Three years ago, her mother had asked her to come pick up her sister for the night, to distract her for the evening as her mom broke the news to their stepfather that the marriage was over. Fiona had always hated the man and the way he treated them all, but her mother had talked about leaving him a few times, then never followed through.
So Fiona hadn’t really taken it seriously when her mother told her the plan, and so Fiona had been late coming back from her shop. Because of it, two people were dead, and Shea had very nearly been the third.
She could have stopped it. Instead, she’d made it worse.
That was exactly why she didn’t want to start something with Kieran. He was a good man. He tried to take care of them; he wanted her despite her having a child in her life. He had gone above and beyond to be there for her when she needed him.
He deserved better than the little she had to offer.
—
“Not a chance in hell.” Kieran shook his head firmly.
“Why not? What’s wrong with it?” She frowned at the vest on the hanger she was holding. It boasted a dull orange background with green chevron stripes across the front. To be blunt, it was an absolutely hideous vest.