Chapter 27 Friday, June 2nd
Cat
“Oh, there she is!” Saoirse calls when I cross the parking lot toward Murphy’s this evening.
Despite it being Ronan’s nineteenth birthday, he insisted on working tonight, stubbornly rejecting Shane’s offer to cover his shift with a gruff, “I need the money, Shay.”
So the Soult family decided: if Ronan won’t come to the party, then the party will come to Ronan.
He has no idea we’re currently congregating outside Murphy’s, no clue that the plan is to surprise him with dinner—well, we’re eating, he’s working, but still—then maybe stick around for a few hours, have some drinks, and make a night of it.
Jack’s been experimenting with alcohol-free recipes just for me.
He even created a mocktail, calling it The Kitten.
“Cat. Pregnant. Kitten. Get it?” he grinned. Yeah, I get it. I admit, I giggled.
My parents are here too, much to my dad’s visible dismay. Poor guy has no choice but to celebrate the birthday of “my boyfriend,” or, as he’s recently started calling Ronan, my “baby daddy.”
I hate it. Even more than I hate boyfriend. There’s something so smug in the way he says it, like he’s clinging to the role of disappointed father while simultaneously reducing Ronan to a teenage mistake.
I don’t know if my dad realizes it, but every time he makes a comment like that a little more of my respect for him erodes. Resentment has begun to settle in its place, hardening like wet cement.
“Oh, this place smells just like O’Callahan’s. Remember, Perry?” Saoirse says as she takes in the pub, the scent of which I’ve always loved. It’s a cozy mix of cedar, teakwood, ale, and Irish food. Warm and comforting.
The atmosphere is lively, with people mingling around the bar and filling the tables, music humming in the background. As always, Murphy’s is buzzing. Even the bar counter is completely packed.
“I do,” Perry says with a chuckle, turning to my parents. “O’Callahan’s was a little pub in Killarney, Ireland, where I worked back in the day—until a young woman named Saoirse walked in and stole my heart.”
I smile at the story while scanning the room for Ronan but coming up short. I do spot Shane, though. When our eyes meet, he lights up and makes his way over.
“Hey, Cat!” he says, then falters slightly when he notices I’m here with both families.
“Oh, Shane, hello!” Saoirse beams, pulling him into a hug.
“Hi, Mrs. Soult. Sorry, Saoirse,” he says, hugging her back. “So good to see you. How have you two been?” he asks, shaking Perry’s hand.
“Really well,” Perry says, smiling.
“Man, I really want to come back to the ranch,” Shane says, laughing.
“Anytime, son,” Perry says.
Saoirse nods beside him. “We’d absolutely love to have you. And bring your beautiful girlfriend.”
“I’ll totally take you up on that. Just don’t tell Ran. I want the good food all to myself,” Shane teases.
Saoirse pats his cheek. “I make enough for everyone. Truly, you’re always welcome.”
“Good, because Tori keeps talking about how badly she wants to go back. She wants to see the baby cows,” Shane says, bewildered.
“They’re really cute,” I say, giggling.
Shane chuckles. “I definitely can’t compete with that. So are you guys just dropping by to say hi or actually staying for dinner?”
“We’re planning to eat. That’s if you have a table for us,” Frank says in his deep voice, eyeing the crowd. “You guys are packed.”
“Yeah, Friday night in summer. This is the vibe for the next three months,” Shane says, grinning. “Come on, I have a spot for you.”
He leads us to a large table a little deeper into the restaurant.
“Where’s Ran?” Frank asks, looking around.
“He’s here somewhere,” Shane says with a smirk. “Can I get you all started on drinks?”
We rattle off our orders, and I’m as always impressed that neither he nor Ronan ever writes anything down. Somehow, they never get it wrong.
“Great, I’ll be right back with those. Want me to let Ran know you’re here, or do you want to spy on him first?” he asks with a grin.
“Oh, I’d love to spy on him,” Saoirse says with a mischievous smile.
“I see where Ran gets it from,” Shane laughs as he heads off to the bar.
Saoirse sighs as she lowers herself into her seat. “I wish Ran had taken the evening off to spend it with us. It’s his birthday.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say. “Shane offered, but Ran was adamant about working. He’s really worried about money right now. I hate that he’s working so much more. It’s only been a couple of weeks and I can already see how exhausted he is—especially now that summer classes have started.”
Frank’s brow furrows like this is news to him. “What do you mean more? How much more is he working?”
“Uh… I think he picked up about twenty extra hours a week,” I say, sheepishly. Guilt coils in my chest. I know he’s burning the candle at both ends—because of me. Because I’m pregnant.
It’s not like I haven’t stepped up. I’m in my mom’s office every day, putting every penny I earn into savings for baby stuff.
But it’s nothing compared to what Ronan’s pulling in.
When I told him how shitty that made me feel a few days ago, he wrapped me into his arms and said, “Baby, you’re growing a whole-ass human.
The least I can do is work a little more. ”
“Well, I’d say that’s a sacrifice he’ll have to make,” my dad says. “That’s the price you pay when you bring a child into this world at his age.”
And there it is again—my dad putting all the weight on Ronan’s shoulders. Like this isn’t my baby too. Like I didn’t choose this just as much as he did.
“We know that, Dad,” I snap.
Saoirse doesn’t look pleased. “So how much is he working now?”
“Sixty hours,” I say.
“A week? Plus school?” she asks, stunned.
I nod.
The sharp look she gives Frank could cut glass. “Frankie, I expect you to have a chat with your son. This isn’t sustainable. It’s your duty to support him—not just emotionally, but financially. Just like we did for you.”
“Mom, of course I’ll help with whatever they need,” Frank says, jaw clenched. “But Ran… he doesn’t accept my help.”
“That’s because he grew up never being able to ask for it,” Saoirse says, voice steady but firm. “And now he’s a man who won’t. But that doesn’t mean you’re powerless. He can still learn to count on you. It’ll just take work.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” Frank says, frustrated. “I have a hard enough time just getting him to respond to my texts, Mom. It’s not like I don’t try!”
“You need to get away with him,” Perry says, finally speaking. “Just the two of you. Somewhere quiet. Force the conversation. Ronan’s great at avoiding things—you’ve got to put him in a place where he can’t dodge it. Then you lay it all out. Be honest.”
“Yeah… maybe,” Frank murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“And honestly, Frank,” my mom chimes in with a little laugh, “short of locking Ronan in a room with you, just keep showing up for him. Even when he ignores your calls, even when he won’t let you help.
Keep showing up. Keep doing the shadow work.
He’ll learn that you’re not going anywhere.
” She softens. “It’s a slow process. But if you’re consistent—if you’re gentle—he’ll start to believe you. ”
I spot Ronan only a moment later and nod toward him as he delivers an overfull tray of food to a large table, then heads back behind the bar to chat with Jack. There’s a gorgeous smile on his lips and his shoulders are relaxed.
Then a petite blonde sidles up to the bar, clearly aiming to catch his attention. She twirls a piece of hair around her finger, hops up on the bar stool, and leans in way farther than necessary. She flashes Ronan a smile that’s all teeth and cleavage. I know the look. I’ve seen it a hundred times.
Something squirms in my chest, and this time I know it’s not my little wiggle worm.
It’s that dumb little fuzzy monster in my chest that occasionally wants to make me into a jealous girlfriend.
But as quickly as it blinked its eyes open, it closes them again—because Ronan just listens politely to the girl, lifts a couple glasses onto his tray, then walks away. Doesn't even look back.
The blonde takes her drink from Jack and struts over to the table directly next to ours, joining four other girls already seated.
“We just got here and Kaylee is already on the prowl,” one of them snorts, nodding toward the bar.
“I’d let him wreck me,” Kaylee says in a breathy voice, her eyes trailing over Ronan’s body like she’s mentally undressing him. “God, just looking at him gets me wet.”
“I’d take a turn,” another girl says, sipping her drink like it’s a secret. “Or maybe we could share.”
I get it. I do. Ronan is stupid hot, which may or may not have been the reason I was late to my mom’s office this morning. As if I needed another reason to be utterly attracted to and turned on by him, my hormones are somehow only amplifying everything.
Tonight, he’s wearing light-washed jeans sitting low and leisurely on his hips and black long-sleeved shirt hugging every sculpted inch of his arms and back.
His V-taper is visible even through the fabric, and his sleeves are pushed to his elbows, begging me to trace my tongue along his forearm veins.
His dark-blond hair is tucked beneath his black ball cap, and he moves with the ease of someone who has no idea just how devastatingly perfect he looks.
Saoirse blinks at the table beside us, clearly scandalized. She turns to me. “Does this not bother you?”
I smile. “Not really.”
“Really?”
I shrug. “This happens all the time.”
“This obviously?”
“Oh, this is tame,” I say. “You wouldn’t believe how handsy some of them get.”
“No!” Saoirse gasps.
“Yep. Especially when they’re drunk.”
“Like… where do they grab him?” Penny asks, totally invested now.
“Wherever they can reach. His chest, his butt, his…” I trail off with a pointed look and a laugh.
“My goodness,” Saoirse says, shaking her head.
“What does Ran do?” Penny asks.
“He tries to get away. He’s polite, sometimes too polite, honestly. He lets them down easy if he can.”
“You’re so calm about this,” Saoirse says.
“There’s nothing I can do,” I say. “I don’t think Shane would appreciate me throwing down in here,” I add with a giggle.
“You’re not worried he’ll give in at some point?” my dad asks with that smug look on his face I’ve come to expect whenever he makes a dig at Ronan.
I turn to him with a firm shake of my head. “Never. I trust him.”
Saoirse smiles gently, and I can feel everyone else at the table quietly acknowledging my dad’s bare minimum tolerance of Ronan. No one calls him out, though. Yet.
At the table beside us, the blonde—Kaylee—is still going. “I’m gonna ask for his number,” she announces.
“Kaylee, guys that hot are always taken, gay, or have serious issues,” one of her friends says knowingly, though she’s still eyeing Ronan like he’s on the menu.
“I’m not trying to marry him,” Kaylee laughs. “I just want to take him home for a night. Let him ruin me.”
“Oh my god,” Penny mutters, eyes wide. “No wonder you’re pregnant.” She leans toward me. “Did you let that boy ruin you?”
“Penny!” my mom gasps.
“What? It’s a compliment,” Penny says, laughing. “Look at him.”
“You remind me of my friend Vada,” I tell her, laughing too. “She’d say the exact same thing.”
But that’s enough of this. I push back my chair and get up, my gaze zeroing in on Ronan, who’s just come back around the bar. His eyes land on me and his whole face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. That slow smile spreads across his lips, and my heart does a little somersault.
“Hey baby,” he says, but I’m already moving.
I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him like it’s the only way I know how to tell him how much I love him.
I feel him exhale against my mouth, his hands settling on my waist, steady and sure, before he tugs my body flush to his.
When I finally pull away, he looks dazed.
“Well. Hello,” he murmurs, eyes still on me. “That was a nice greeting.”
“Just needed to remind the room who you belong to,” I say, brushing my fingers through the hair peeking from beneath his ball cap. “Also, I love you.”
He laughs quietly, pulling me closer. “I love you, too. What are you doing here?” He glances past me, eyes widening when he sees the table. “Oh shit, how long have you guys been here?”
“Ten minutes,” I say. “Your grandma told Shane not to tell you so she could spy on you first.”
He groans. “Of course she did.”
I grab his hand, linking our fingers, and guide him toward the table. I don’t even bother looking at the group of girls. I can feel their disappointment. And it tastes… sweet.
“Hi, baby boy,” Saoirse chirps as she stands.
Ronan wraps her in a big, warm hug. “Hi, Morai,” he says, quiet with affection.
He hugs Perry next, then gives Frank, Penny, and my parents a polite wave before crouching to peer into the car seats secured atop two highchairs. His baby brothers are still sleeping, pink-cheeked and peaceful.
“They’re getting so big,” he whispers.
“They smile when they fart,” Penny says.
Ronan laughs, tired but full of love.
I slide into my chair, tugging at his sleeve. “Come sit,” I whisper. “Just for a few minutes.”
Ronan glances over his shoulder back at the bar.
Shane grins, then shouts, “Take a break! We got you, birthday boy.”
Ronan takes a seat in the chair next to me, our knees brushing, his arm draping across the back of my chair. I rest my hand on his thigh, grounding him.
He closes his eyes, and, for a moment, he’s still. Present. And I let myself soak it in.
He’s mine. And I’m keeping him.