by Mari Carr
“Can I talk to you, Colm?” she asked. “In private.”
He looked somewhat surprised by the request, but he recovered quickly. “Sure.” He picked up his beer glass and headed to a table near the bar.
“No,” she said, stopping him with a hand on his forearm. “Over there.” She pointed to a booth in the far corner. She couldn’t risk anyone overhearing what she was going to say.
Colm gestured for her to lead the way.
Once they were settled in the booth, he said, “What’s up? Something go wrong with the sperm donor?”
She shook her head, not surprised he assumed that was what she wanted to talk about. Right now, he and Robbie were the only two people who knew about her plans to have a baby.
“No. It’s about Halloween. I…” She swallowed heavily, her mouth suddenly going dry.
She reached across the table and grabbed Colm’s Guinness, taking a long swig as his eyebrows rose.
“What about it?”
“I, um…well, I… Fuck. I slept with Paddy.”
Colm tilted his head, and for a moment, she could almost imagine him trying to figure out if he’d heard her correctly. “Slept with or had sex with?”
“Sex,” she whispered.
Colm shook his head. “That’s not possible. Paddy hasn’t said a word to me about—”
“He was blacked out. Doesn’t remember.”
“I’m pretty fucking sure he’d remember that, Kell.”
“He doesn’t, okay?” She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but she was running on fumes at the moment, her nerves stretched taut.
“Okay. You’re going to have to work with me here though. I mean…even if he doesn’t remember, you weren’t that drunk. Why would you—”
“It was dark—pitch-black. I thought he was Robbie.”
Colm chuckled. “Jesus. Only you could manage to sleep with the wrong guy.”
“Oh my God, you’re an asshole.”
“Wait,” Colm said, raising his hand to ward off her fury. “You thought you were sleeping with the sperm donor, but it was really Paddy?”
“Yeah. And now I don’t know what the hell to do.”
“What do you mean? Do about what?”
“About telling him! I mean, I slept with my best friend, who is still reeling from losing his wife. It’s going to crush him when I tell him! He’ll feel like he wasn’t loyal to Mia’s memory, and he’ll…” She sucked in a deep breath, unable to finish her thought.
Colm fell silent, and she took comfort in the fact he was genuinely thinking it through, trying to find a way to help her. She followed his gaze, the two of them glancing back at Padraig who was mixing up a batch of margaritas.
She and Colm were probably the only two people—with the exception of Pop Pop—who recognized the subtle differences in Padraig since Mia’s death. The lines by his eyes that hadn’t been there before he’d walked every step of the way through her illness beside her, the tightness around his mouth, the way his smile never seemed to fill his entire face the way it had when they were all younger. He moved just a little bit slower, held himself just a little bit stiffer.
It seemed like every second of every day, he was fighting just to remain upright. It had been two years, but Kelli knew Padraig’s heart ached for Mia just as much now as it had the day she’d died.
“I think you should wait to tell him,” Colm said at last.
“How long?”
He shrugged. “At least through the holidays. And maybe even longer. Maybe never. I think what we have to decide is what purpose would telling him serve.”
Kelli liked the way Colm said “we.” It helped that she wasn’t alone in this. “No purpose. It would hurt him.”
Colm nodded. “Yeah, but…well…would it hurt you not to tell him?”
Kelli wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Did she admit to Colm how much that night in Padraig’s arms had affected her, made her long for things she thought she’d managed to convince herself she didn’t need?
“That night…it was…he was… I’ve never experienced anything like that. It was incredible.” She lifted her shoulder casually as if that would downplay her confession. It didn’t.
Colm reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Are you sure you haven’t given up on the possibility of finding love?”
“I haven’t. I told you—wanting a baby and finding love don’t have to go hand in hand. Besides, if I’ve learned anything from Halloween, it’s that I’m an even bigger dumpster fire than I thought.”
Colm smirked. “I could have told you that.” She narrowed her eyes, but before she could call him to task, he sobered up and said, “I’m sorry, Kell.”
Kelli swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. Then she fought to force a smile. “It’s okay. He’s my best friend, and I can’t…I won’t do anything to jeopardize that. I can take this secret to the grave.”
“Can you?”
She nodded. She could. She really could. “Ignorance is bliss.”
She wasn’t sure where those words came from, but the tone definitely didn’t match the phrase. Because she wasn’t sure whose ignorance she was referring to.
Hers or Padraig’s.
Wasn’t it better that Padraig not know he’d betrayed Mia’s memory? Because that was how he would view what they’d done.
And wasn’t it now worse for her because she’d had a glimpse of something she feared she would never have, never feel, again? What would she give to have that ignorance back again?
“Yeah. It is.” The way Colm looked at her, the tone of his voice drove home the feeling she’d had last week. That she and Colm had more in common than they’d realized.
“So…Brooke,” she prompted, realizing she’d brushed him off at the bar, making jokes, while he’d tried to help her.
A sadness she’d rarely seen crept into his eyes. “I felt something that night, Kell. Something I…really haven’t felt before. I actually thought she might be the one.”
“Wow,” she said, fighting to lighten the heaviness surrounding them. “That girl must have a magic va-jay-jay if she’s got you thinking commitment. You realize you’re still six years away from the ‘not marrying before forty’ deadline.”
She expected him to laugh, but instead, he just agreed. “I know. It knocked me on my ass because there was a connection there. And I liked it. I really fucking liked it.”
Kelli nodded because she got it. She glanced at Padraig once more, still struggling to assimilate her best friend with the lover who’d rocked her world. “You liked it so much it actually had you thinking marriage?”
Colm blew out a long breath. “I don’t know. That night felt different from everything that had come before with her. I really wanted to see her again, talk to her, try to figure out if what happened between us… God. She’s like two different women. Outside the bedroom, she talks a lot…about nothing. But when we were in bed together, it felt like she was made for me. I’m having a hard time making the pieces fit.”
Jesus. Kelli wasn’t sure how to reply to that—because she’d had the same problem this week. Exactly the same problem.
“Not that it matters now. She’s completely stonewalling me. So…”
“So, what’s the answer here?” she asked.
“Karaoke,” Colm said.
She frowned. “I’ve spent way too many years surrounded by the Collins family because I sadly understand that response.”
“We’re doing it here in the pub. Next Thursday night. You and me are going to get drunk and sing our blues away.”
She raised her hand, shaking her head. “Nope. No alcohol. I’ve given it up. Forever.”
Colm glanced at his beer, and she recalled the big swig she’d just taken.
“Starting now,” she said with a smirk.
“Excellent.” Colm lifted his phone and immediately started texting.
“What are you doing? And what’s excellent?”
“Group text
with my cousins. I’m starting up the annual ‘Kelli’s on the wagon again’ pool. Gonna start the wagering on how long it’ll last this time.”
She shot him an eat-shit-and-die scowl. “You’re a dick.”
“Hey, Colm,” Padraig yelled across the bar, holding up his cell phone. “Put me down for ten bucks. I say she caves on Friendsgiving.”
“Et tu, Paddy?” Kelli yelled, her heart fluttering when he laughed at her joke, but she wasn’t sure if her response was driven by relief or disappointment.
She caught Colm looking at her, and she was touched by the concern she saw there.
“I’m fine,” she murmured.
He gave her a friendly wink. “Yeah. Me too. Face it. The two of us should be used to this crap by now.”
Kelli laughed. “Right? You keep talking about the Collins curse, but damn if I wouldn’t love to be struck down by that thing. I feel like I’m standing right under it with my arms out, screaming ‘come on, hit me with your best shot.’ Aaaand nothing.”
“So the other night didn’t change your mind about going the single-mom route?”
“Nope. It convinced me even more I’ve made the right decision. I can’t even manage to get drunken one-night stands right. I’m better off taking a break from men for a while. Focus on what will make me happy. And for me, that’s a baby. Are you really reconsidering your bachelor status?”
Colm didn’t reply right away, and when he did, she couldn’t help but think that he was lying. “Not a bit.”
“So, we forge on.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of them sounded particularly happy about that, but what else could they do? “Well,” she glanced at her phone, “happy hour is clearly over. This place is starting to get crowded with the Friday night regulars, and since I’m not really in a party mood…”
Colm nodded. “Me either. What are you doing tonight?”
She shrugged. “I’ll probably just go home, find an old movie on Netflix, and chill out.”
“Yeah. That’s my plan too. Wanna do that together?”
She grinned. “Seriously? Is this going to start becoming a thing? You and me hanging out together?”
He narrowed his eyes. “It’s just a damn movie, Kell. And I’m tired of watching them by myself.”
“Ditto.”
Then he gave her a wicked grin. “Even so, don’t go setting your heart on winning mine. You might be taking yourself off the market for a little while, but this rolling stone still has a lot of miles to go. You coming?”
She rolled her eyes and pretended to gag at the thought of them together.
Then she followed him upstairs.
Chapter Seven
Colm sat at the bar next to Pop Pop, the two of them enjoying—well, currently tolerating—the karaoke performances. Right now, there was a married couple onstage butchering “Love Shack.”
“You giving us a song tonight, lad?” Pop Pop asked. “Always enjoyed listening to you sing.”
Colm nodded. “Yeah. Kelli and I already signed up. We’re doing a duet.”
Padraig, who was standing across the counter from them, filling a pitcher from the tap, paused. “You and Kelli? My Kelli?”
Colm wasn’t sure why it tweaked his nerves to hear Padraig refer to Kelli as his. They’d all grown up together, all been friends since practically the cradle, so was the possessive adjective really necessary?
He pushed that annoyance aside. Padraig’s comment would have been perfectly valid two weeks ago.
However, something had changed between him and Kelli since she’d revealed her plan to become a mother to him.
Last Friday, he’d felt pretty damn low, depressed and confused by Brooke’s sudden silent treatment. Kelli—of all people—had managed to cheer him up and actually make him feel better. They’d watched a couple Will Ferrell movies, pigged out on popcorn, and at the end of the night, he’d hugged her goodbye when she left. The gesture had felt surprisingly…normal. Natural.
Right.
Shit.
He wasn’t sure what was going on, but she’d returned Sunday to watch the football games, just like she always did. The two of them had sat next to each other, cheering for the Ravens with the rest of his family, but every time her leg accidentally brushed his, he sort of…felt something.
Something he didn’t dare put a name to.
And unbeknownst to Padraig—to everyone—the two of them had started having dinner together this week.
Three dinners in a row—twice at restaurants, and then last night at her place—where they’d talked about everything under the sun.
He and Kelli spoke the same language—sarcasm—and he’d finally admitted his mother hadn’t been wrong when she said he and Kelli were similar souls. They’d found they had a lot of things in common, so conversation between them flowed easily, equal measures insightful and funny as shit.
So now, when Padraig stood here and called her “his Kelli,” it bothered Colm. More than he cared to admit. Because she was his friend too.
“What song are you going to sing for us?” Pop Pop asked.
Colm grinned because he knew his grandfather was going to love his answer. “Jackson.”
Just as he expected, Pop Pop’s eyes widened. “You know I’m a sucker for a Johnny and June song, lad.”
“Kelli picked it out. And I’m sure it was for you.”
He, Padraig, and Kelli had all been members of chorus in high school, even participating in the school musicals, so it wasn’t like the two of them hadn’t sung together before. They just hadn’t sung together in a long time…or without a big group of people around them.
“Speak of the devil,” Pop Pop said as Kelli walked up to them. She gave his grandfather a quick kiss on the cheek.
“How’s my boyfriend?” she asked. She and Pop Pop had been pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend for years.
“Colm tells me you’re singing one of my favorites tonight. You know how I love your voice, dear lass.”
Kelli was a hell of a singer, with a powerful, soulful mezzo-soprano voice. Pop Pop swore she’d missed her calling, that she could have been as famous as Aunt Teagan if she’d put her mind to it. Kelli always blushed and dismissed the compliment as just that—kind words from a beloved old man.
“You have to say that,” she teased. “I’m your girlfriend.”
Pop Pop chuckled. “You remind me so much of my sweet Sunday.”
Colm had never heard him say that, but given Kelli’s response, it appeared the comment wasn’t a new one.
“You and Paddy are both clearly blind. No one except the two of you ever calls me sweet.”
“You’re sweet, Kell,” Colm said, the words falling out before he could think better of them.
Padraig and Pop Pop both looked at him, Padraig with shock…and Pop Pop with something much more dangerous—a knowing amusement that seemed to scream “Gotcha!”
Kelli was oblivious to the undercurrents because she just rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Sure I am. I’m a regular bundle of cotton candy. I just came over to let you know we’re next up, Colm. Hope your fragile ego is going to be okay with me stealing the spotlight, Johnny.”
He chuckled. “Dream on, June. I think we both know who’s going to carry this number. Just try to keep up. And don’t embarrass me. I have a karaoke reputation to uphold.”
“Phew,” Padraig said. “There we go. I was starting to worry about you two.”
Colm rose from the stool, happy to step away from the quiet scrutiny of his grandfather, who was still looking from Colm to Kelli and back again. Not that Colm expected to be let off the hook completely. Pop Pop was definitely going to question him later.
He only hoped he had an answer by the time he did.
The couple onstage had just finished scream-singing “Love Shack” as he and Kelli approached. Uncle Sean, who was serving as the karaoke deejay tonight, gave them both a wink as he introduced them. As they stepped onstage, they adjusted the mi
crophone stands to their heights—which in their cases meant raising both of them.
Kelli stepped over and gave him a quick hip check and a grin as the music started. He rolled his eyes, then leaned in, the two of them doing their best Johnny and June impersonations. Colm had a naturally deep voice, so channeling the man in black wasn’t hard at all.
Kelli moved in time with the fast pace, laughing and adopting June’s attitude as well as sound. On the chorus, she stepped over, sharing his microphone, and the crowd cheered even louder than they already had been.
Their faces were close…and Colm felt the oddest desire to close the distance between them, to press his lips against hers.
He stumbled over a couple of words.
Shaking himself, he forced his eyes away from her face and back to the monitor flashing the lyrics, even though he knew all the words by heart.
Neither of them were strangers in the pub when it came to karaoke night, but they’d never sung together. He typically pulled out an Ed Sheeran song, while Kelli was partial to the ladies of the sixties—rocking out to Janis Joplin or Joni Mitchell. Colm suspected they were going to start getting countless requests for duets after this.
As the song ended, the audience gave them a standing ovation, the first of the night. He grasped her hand to steady her as they started to leave the stage, high-fiving Sean with the other. She started to pull her hand away once they’d taken the one step down to the floor, but he held firm, using it to tug her closer.
“You did okay,” he said, acting as if her performance was subpar.
She leaned toward him, her breasts brushing against his arm.
Colm was surprised by the way his body reacted when her narrowed eyes. Jesus. His cock actually twitched and started to thicken.
Since when was that look a turn-on?
What the fuck was that about?
He released her hand.
“Oh, honey, I know you tried, but…” she said, lightly tapping his cheek. He suspected she was going to say more, to pile on her own playful insult, but something behind Colm caught her eye. “Shit. Incoming,” she murmured.
Colm turned, taking a second to find what had captured her attention. Then he saw her—Brooke. Standing at a nearby table, looking at him.
