26. Cormac
Chapter Twenty-Six
CORMAC
Daddy daycare ft. Brennan
brENNAN: How’s everything going in the land of dirty diapers?
KIERAN: Why don’t you come over and find out?
RONAN: You better be pulling your weight and not letting everything fall on Riley.
KIERAN: What kind of asshole do you take me for?
brENNAN: A huge one?
KIERAN: She hasn’t lifted a finger since the moment she turned up on my doorstep, and I intend to keep it that way.
brENNAN: Kiss ass
KIERAN: How’s waking up to an empty bed every morning?
brENNAN: How’s being covered in baby vomit?
CORMAC: Why can I never seem to mute these chats?
RONAN: What do you need, Brennan?
brENNAN: I was just checking in! Still got nothing on Lorcan.
KIERAN: Are we sure the asshole hasn’t just offed himself and is lying in a ditch somewhere?
RONAN: That would be too easy.
CORMAC: I’ve just gone through his bank statements again, but still nothing.
brENNAN: You’re going to go cross-eyed if you keep staring at those statements.
CORMAC: I feel like I’m missing something.
RONAN: If Lorcan’s hiding something, it’s not in his accounts. He’s not that sloppy.
CORMAC: Maybe… I think I’ll go through them once more just in case.
brENNAN: Always the high achiever.
RONAN: We’ll keep checking our ends. He’s bound to slip up somewhere.
A knock sounds at my door, and I quickly shut off my phone and stuff it back into my pocket.
“Come in.”
The door nudges open just enough for Fiona to peer around it, her eyes flicking over the room before they land on me.
She clears her throat. “Uh… Scout wants you.”
“He does?”
She pushes the door open a little more and steps inside the room. “Yeah. He asked if you could come say goodnight. Actually, he said, and I quote, ‘I won’t sleep until Daddy comes’.”
A warmth spreads in my chest at the fact that Scout needs me.
I shut my laptop and get to my feet. “All right.”
Fiona blinks, like she expected at least some resistance. “Really? You don’t have work?”
“I always have work, but he’s my son.”
Something shifts in her expression, surprise, maybe, or curiosity.
As I brush past her, I catch a waft of her perfume and swallow a moan as all the blood rushes to my cock.
If it weren’t for the fact my son is waiting for me, I would turn around and pin Fiona against the wall. But maybe it’s good for me to practice some restraint. I can’t have her walking around this place, thinking all she has to do is sway those perfect hips and I’ll drop to my knees.
I find Scout sitting upright in bed, his dark hair sticking up at all angles, and a smear of toothpaste still on his chin.
The second he sees me, he beams. “You came!”
“As if I could say no to you.” I sit on the edge of his bed and reach out to rub the toothpaste off his chin.
“Can you read me a story?” Hope shines in his eyes.
I sigh, as if he’s truly inconveniencing me, even though he knows I’ll read to him all damn night if he wants.
But he likes the game, the pretense that he’s winning something from me.
“One, but then you need to sleep.”
“Make it two, and you’ve got a deal.”
I barely make it through the first book before Scout’s eyelids start to droop. I quietly close the book and brush his hair back from his face. I still can’t believe he’s here.
It has been such a long time since I spent more than a few days with Scout, and I think it’s going to be a while before I get used to it.
I just wish it didn’t have to take Ray getting sick for me to finally make a change.
Part of me worries that I might be too late, that I’ve already missed too much.
But as I look at Scout’s peaceful face, I almost start to believe that I can make up for it.
Almost.
I get to my feet and sneak out of his room, heading back down the hall to my office.
While Kieran left much of his weapons bunker intact, I didn’t like the idea of being locked away in there and Scout not being able to reach me. I’ve already missed too much. I’m not putting another barrier between us, not even for work.
When I enter, I find Fiona standing in front of the sad-looking bookshelf that holds a few books and a single framed photo of my mother and me.
I’m not much older than Scout in the picture, and I’m beaming at the camera as my mother stands behind me, her hands on my shoulders, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m days away from losing her.
A sharp, instinctive anger cuts through me at the sight of Fiona picking up the frame.
I stalk over to her. “What the hell are you doing?”
Fiona sucks in a small breath, almost dropping the picture out of fright.
“I… Shit, sorry. I wasn’t… I wasn’t snooping. I was just looking.”
“Don’t touch my things.” My words come out harsher than I intend, but I don’t apologize.
Her cheeks redden as she fumbles to set the frame back exactly where she found it. “Right. Of course. Sorry.”
She steps away fast, like she expects me to snap again. Normally, I would. Keeping people out is easy, an instinct I barely even think twice about. But tonight… Somehow it feels wrong.
I drag a hand down my face as Fiona makes to leave.
“Fiona.”
She pauses mid-step, and I force myself to take a breath, to try and calm the anger simmering just beneath the surface.
“I shouldn’t have snapped. That wasn’t…necessary.”
She spins around, her blue eyes widening. “Did you just apologize to me?”
“Yes,” I mutter. “Don’t make me regret it.”
Her mouth twitches like she’s trying not to smile.
“Sit.” I motion for her to come toward the couch.
She hesitates before crossing over to the couch and perching on the edge, like she’s unsure if she’s allowed to actually relax. Her eyes watch me closely as I reach into the bottom drawer of the desk and pull out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
I pour her a glass and hand it to her, though she stares at it like it might explode.
She blinks up at me with those ocean eyes. “Is this for me? Like, am I actually allowed to drink this? Or is this some test to see if I’m slacking on pool-cleaning duties?”
I huff a laugh as I pour myself a drink. “I don’t think I’ve been that bad.”
She snorts. “Are you kidding me? You’ve been awful.”
My lips twitch as I raise a brow. “Awful?”
I take a slow sip to hide the laugh threatening to slip out.
God help me, she’s braver than she looks.
“I guess I have. Maybe we should have a fresh start?”
Fiona studies me, like she’s trying to figure out where the trap is. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” I drop down onto the couch beside her.
After a beat, she lifts her glass and clinks it against mine. “Fine. Here’s to a fresh start.”
My eyes remain locked on her as she takes a drink, watching the way her throat bobs as she swallows.
If Fiona notices me staring, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she lowers her glass and looks over to the bookcase. “Was that you with your mom?”
I take a drink to try to numb the ache in my chest. “Yeah.”
“You look happy.”
“I was. She was the parent I was closest to. With her, everything felt…easier.”
“And your dad?”
My jaw tenses as I think of Seamus. “It’s complicated.”
Fiona nods slowly but doesn’t press for further details, which I appreciate more than anything.
There’s nothing I hate more than being pitied. But something tells me that Fiona has experience with complicated.
“You know, for someone who pretends to be made of stone, you get pretty sentimental when it comes to Scout.”
A small smile pulls at my mouth. “He’s the uncomplicated one.”
“He adores you. That doesn’t look complicated at all.”
“Maybe… Though, sometimes it feels like I’ve missed out on too much, trying to keep him safe.”
Fiona finally looks at me then, and her eyes are filled with nothing but concern.
“Safe from what?”
“It’s not important.” I down the rest of my drink.
“It sounds important.”
“It’s not.” I make my tone sharp.
Fiona goes quiet as I stand and cross over to the sideboard, needing to put some distance between us. It seems my lack of control around her isn’t confined to the bedroom, but to my past too.
I keep my back to her as I pour another drink. “Tell me about your past.”
“My past?”
“Yes. You asked about mine, so it’s only fair I get to ask about yours.”
When Fiona doesn’t say anything, I turn around.
Her gaze has drifted somewhere far away from my office.
When she finally speaks, her voice is barely louder than a whisper. “My sister died a year ago.”
I straighten, taken aback not just by the confession, but by the quiet trust in her words, as if she knows I can bear this weight with her.
“She was everything to me, until…” Her voice catches and I find myself crossing back over to her on instinct.
“I’m sorry.” I sit down beside her, close enough that our thighs brush against each other.
Fiona tries to shrug it off, but the gesture is too tight, too strained.
“It’s just… When you talked about Scout and trying to keep him safe… I get it. I get that fear.”
And that’s when it hits me, why I’ve been drawn to her since the moment she stepped foot in my office. In this house. Not because she’s pretty or because she challenges me, but because she’s cracked in the same way I am.
We understand loss in the same language.
Without thinking, I reach over and touch her hand.
She goes still, and her breath catches, but she doesn’t pull away.
As our eyes meet, a silent question lingers in them that she doesn’t dare speak out loud. But I answer it anyway.
I pull her gently toward me, and the second her body presses against mine, something inside me snaps. I tilt her chin up and kiss her, so softly that our lips barely touch.
She gasps as her fingers sink into my shirt, pulling me closer as I deepen the kiss. “Cormac.”
My hand slides to her waist, pulling her closer as I drag my mouth along her jaw. Every part of me floods with heat and want and?—
“Daddy?”
I jerk back, my heart hammering in my chest, as Scout appears in the doorway, rubbing at his eyes.
Fiona’s face flushes crimson as she tries to gently untangle herself from me, and I let her go, forcing my breathing back under control.
I clear my throat. “Hey, buddy. What are you doing up?”
“I had a bad dream. You weren’t there.”
Guilt gnaws at me as I glance at Fiona, but she refuses to meet my gaze.
“I’m right here.” I get to my feet and quickly scoop him up, settling him against my chest.
His head drops instantly to my shoulder, and I sneak another quick glance at Fiona.
This time, she looks at me, giving me an understanding smile.
“I’ll be right back.” I carry Scout down the hall to his room, his little arms wrapped loosely around my neck.
“Sing,” he mumbles when I lay him in his bed.
I hesitate, just for a second.
Singing has always made me feel too exposed. It was something I only did for Nadia when she couldn’t sleep, and then Scout in the early days after his mother’s death.
It used to bring me quiet joy. But that was before…
However, as I look down at Scout, tucked up in his bed that is too big for him in a room that doesn’t feel like his… He looks so small and tired.
So, I sit on the edge of the bed and sing the lullaby my mother used to sing to me until Scout’s breathing evens out.
I stay a moment longer, brushing his hair back from his face as the knot in my chest starts to loosen. Then I stand and head back to the office.
I half expect Fiona to still be there, sitting awkwardly on the couch, waiting for the moment to resume, but she isn’t. The office is empty, and the whiskey glasses are still on the table, the faint smell of her perfume still lingering in the air.
I stare at the empty couch for a long moment.
Maybe it’s for the best that she left.
Maybe it’s dangerous if it isn’t for the best.
Either way, the room feels colder without her.
And for the first time, I’m forced to admit that I notice.