Chapter 4
Ronan
I get to the office at eight. Waiting is not something my brain handles well.
Especially not this. All morning, I’ve been wound so tight I can barely sit still.
Every few minutes, I check the time, check my phone, check the security updates.
What if he doesn’t come? The thought loops over and over until it starts to feel like static under my skin.
If he doesn’t show up, I’ll go after him.
A few minutes ago, Taylor finally sent the text I’ve been waiting for.
He’s on his way. I’ve been checking in with the surveillance team every fifteen minutes since six this morning.
Sleep was almost impossible last night. Between waiting for updates and fighting the urge to go to that shithole myself and drag Colton and Ollie out of there, I barely slept at all.
Dimples.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I didn’t even know I had a thing for dimples until right now.
Honestly, before yesterday, I didn’t think I had a thing for anything except my work.
But something inside me loosens the second I see him.
The tightness under my skin eases. The noise in my head quiets.
Like I’ve been in withdrawal since he left yesterday, and just seeing him again is enough to make me feel normal.
“Hello, Ronan.”
“Hello, Colton. Come with me.” I reach out and take both bags from him.
“Oh, you don’t have to carry those. I’m used to it.”
“Yes, I do.” And I do. I want to take care of him in a way that doesn’t make any sense. I don’t like people. I barely tolerate most of them, even when they’re family. But him. For reasons I can’t explain, I like him.
We step into the private elevator reserved for family, and I use my badge to select the seventeenth floor.
His scent. The small space fills with his scent.
Generic hotel soap. Something citrusy underneath it, probably his shampoo.
It makes something low in my stomach twist. I want to lean in closer.
Press my face against his neck or his hair and breathe him in properly.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
A second later, Ollie starts making a string of nonsense sounds.
He leans toward me with both hands stretched out.
His hands are wet. Very wet. I lock my knees to keep from stepping back on instinct.
Because every damp, sticky thing about kids feels fundamentally wrong to me. But Ollie keeps reaching for me anyway.
“Huh, that is so weird,” Colton says.
“What is? Do you understand him?”
Colton laughs. “You’ve never been around babies before, have you?” I shake my head. “That’s what I thought. Only he knows what he’s saying. He’s only one, so he can only say a couple of words. It’s his body language that I understand.”Colton shifts Ollie higher on his hip so he can’t reach me.
Something about that feels wrong. I don’t like it.
Should I hold him? The thought lands awkwardly in my head.
I’ve never held a baby before, but it can’t be that difficult.
People do it all the time. They don’t look particularly qualified.
Still, I have no idea why Ollie would want me.
Nothing about me should be inviting to him.
But Ollie keeps leaning around Colton’s arm to look at me, his little hand opening and closing like he still expects me to take him.
“And what is his body language telling you?” I ask.
“He likes you, and he doesn’t like anyone other than me.”
“I know how he feels,” I mumble.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I clear my throat. “Why doesn’t he like anyone but you?”
Colton smiles down at Ollie, softer than I’ve ever seen him.
“I think it’s because he’s a good judge of character. But more than likely, it’s because I’ve been his only caregiver since the day he was born.”
A short laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. The idea that Ollie could like me and still be a good judge of character is ridiculous. As a clinical psychopath, I make most people uncomfortable. I always have. We step off the elevator, and I lead them down the hall toward my office.
When I push open the door, I stop short. My mother and father are sitting on the couch waiting for us.
“Mom, Dad, what are you doing in my office?” I place the bags down on the coffee table.
“I can wait out in the hall,” Colton says as he starts to leave the office.
“Oh, no need. We’re actually here to meet you.” Mom smiles at Colton like this is completely normal. “Ronan said he had a new employee starting this morning, so we came to welcome you to the family.”
I look at Mom. Then Dad. Dad just shrugs one shoulder like he has nothing to do with any of this. What the fuck is happening? Why are they here? I’ve spent all morning waiting for Colton to show up, counting down the minutes until he walked through the door. And now I have to deal with my parents.
“And who is this handsome young man?”
“That’s Colton,” I say. My mom turns to me and laughs.
“I was talking about the baby, dear.”
“That’s Ollie. I told you about him last night.” Did she forget our conversation already?
“Yes, son, you did,” Mom says. “But you didn’t tell me how absolutely darling he is.”
Her entire face softens as she looks at him.
“Oh, where are my manners? I’m Alessia Murphy, and this is Kieran. We’re Ronan’s parents.”
“It’s very nice to meet you both.” Colton shakes Mom’s hand first, then steps over to Dad.
The second he gets close, Ollie lets out an excited squeal and practically launches himself toward him. Dad catches him automatically, like he’s done it a thousand times.
Ollie cups both sides of Dad’s face in his tiny hands and starts babbling at him immediately. Something sharp twists in my chest. I should have taken him in the elevator. He’s part of Colton. That means he belongs with me, too. I should be the one holding him. Instead, Dad has him.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Colton says quickly. “He never goes to strangers. I didn’t even think. Here, I’ll take him back.”
“That’s okay.” Dad adjusts Ollie easily against his chest. “It seems he has a lot to tell me.” An actual smile pulls at his mouth.
I stare. My father can barely survive a five-minute conversation with his adult children without looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, but put a baby in front of him and he turns into someone else entirely.
Dad’s like the rest of us in most ways. But babies are his weak spot. Mom says he took us everywhere with him when we were little. I glance at her. She has both hands pressed over her mouth, her eyes bright and shining like she’s trying not to cry.
“Are you sure?”
“He is, dear. He loves babies, and so do I.”
The second Mom steps up beside them, Ollie reaches for her, too.
Dad passes him over without hesitation, and Ollie immediately grabs her face the same way he did Dad’s, babbling away like he’s telling her something important.
Mom’s laugh catches in her throat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile this big.
She looks lit from the inside out, holding Ollie against her chest like he belongs there.
And when I glance over at Colton, he’s smiling too. A real smile. Soft, surprised, and a little overwhelmed. Something warm settles low in my chest at the sight of it.
“He’s never like this with anyone,” Colton says quietly. “It must be something about your family.”
“Hold that thought until he meets my three brothers.”
“Wow, that’s a big family. Are you close?”
“ Yes. We also have a cousin and his fiancé, Xavier.” I watch for any change in his expression when I mention Xavier. There is no negative reaction from him. He only smiles. Fucking dimples. I shove my hands into my pockets before I do something stupid, like reach out and trace one with my thumb.
“Colton, when Ronan said you were bringing the baby in today, I had some things brought in for him. I wanted you to be able to concentrate on Ronan. I have it all set up right down the hall in the conference room. If you would allow Kieran and me, we would love to watch him while you two discuss things.”
“I’m really not sure that is a good idea. He’s not used to being away from me. He’ll probably scream his head off. It’s the main reason I work remotely and freelance.”
“How about we try? Come with me, and I will show you where we will be, and let’s see how he does. Ronan, please bring the diaper bag.”
“The what?” I ask.
“The diaper bag,” Mom says. “The one with the dinosaurs on it.”
Of course, it’s a diaper bag. I glance between the two bags again.
His messenger bag is old and worn at the edges, the kind of thing that’s probably been used for years.
Maybe secondhand. But Ollie’s bag is new.
So are his clothes. Ollie’s outfit fits perfectly, right down to the tiny shoes on his feet.
Colton’s button-down and slacks look nice enough, but they’re a little too big on him, like they weren’t bought with him in mind.
I think about the day at the center, how he only picked out clothes for Ollie and never once looked at anything for himself.
His priority is always the baby. Always Ollie.
And I can’t stop wondering if anyone has ever made Colton a priority.
We follow my parents out of my office and a couple of doors down.
When Dad opens the door, Colton stops so abruptly that I walk right into him.
I catch him around the waist before either of us can stumble.
The second I pull him back against my chest, everything inside me goes quiet.
The constant noise in my head fades. Something deep inside me settles with a strange sense of certainty. This is where he belongs.
I lower my head just enough to breathe him in, catching the clean scent of his hair and the warmer smell underneath that is just him. It does dangerous things to me. I force myself to let him go before I forget where we are.
When I finally look past him into the room, I understand why he stopped. Mom completely transformed it.
The conference table and chairs are gone, replaced with shelves of toys, a crib against one wall, and a padded changing table beside it.
Stuffed animals are piled high in one corner.
A racetrack rug covers the middle of the floor, and little cars are already lined up at the starting line. There’s even a ball pit.
Ollie lets out that excited squeal again and wiggles until Mom puts him down. He tears across the room in a blur, bouncing from one thing to the next so fast I can barely keep up with him. Then he runs back to Dad, grabs his pant leg, and points at the ball pit.
Dad picks him up and lowers him into it. Ollie’s laugh fills the room. And somehow, impossibly, I don’t find the sound annoying at all.
“This is insane,” Colton whispers.
He turns slowly, taking in everything in the room, his mouth parted just a little in shock.
It’s excessive. But then, everything Mom does is excessive.
“No,” I mutter. “This is my mom.”
“She did all of this because you told her I was coming in for a job and bringing a baby?”
“Yep.”
There’s more to it than that. A lot more. But I’m not ready to explain that to him yet. Not when I’m still trying to figure out how to explain it to myself.
“I think he’ll be fine here,” I say instead. “Plus, you really don’t want to disappoint Alessia Murphy.” He glances over at me.
“Dad doesn’t like that.”
For a second, he just stares. Then he laughs. The sound hits me like a drug straight to the bloodstream. I would do just about anything to hear it again.