mother,' she said, into his ear before kissing his neck.
'My mother can go and—'
'Dee? Dee Hewson? I thought it was you!'
Dee pulled away from Conor and smiled at the little man standing behind him. 'Uh, hello, Mr Dunne, how are you?'
'Fine, thanks. Nice evening for a stroll.'
'Yes, yes, it is.'
'I was just wondering if there's any fish pie on the menu tomorrow,' he asked hopefully and winked at Conor. 'She makes a wonderful fish pie.'
'Yes; yes, she does,' Conor said. 'She's very good with her hands.'
Dee stepped on his foot. 'Not tomorrow, Mr Dunne, but I'm making some for Friday.'
'Oh, okay then.'
'Tomorrow is steak and kidney pie; you should try it.'
'Maybe I will. Well, goodnight then, safe home.'
'Goodnight, Mr Dunne.' She turned her face into Conor's shirt collar and groaned. 'It could only happen in this town.'
'It's just as well he came along when he did; another five minutes and he might have found you in a very compromising position.'
Dee laughed up at him, her eyes twinkling. 'You're all talk, Conor Fitzgerald.'
He turned for home, tugging her after him. 'We'll see about that!'
When they let themselves in the back door, the kitchen was empty and the small TV in the corner was on but silent. Dee frowned. 'I'll just go and check if everything's okay.' As she got to the landing, Paula was just coming out of Sam's room. 'Is he okay?' she asked, suddenly worried.
Paula nodded and smiled. 'He had a bad dream, but he's asleep again now.'
Dee let out the breath that she hadn't even realized she was holding. 'Did he say anything?'
'Nothing that made sense.'
'Did he have anything to eat before bed?'
'Just one of your cookies and a glass of milk. Honestly, Dee, he's fine.'
They went back downstairs and Dee went to her bag for her purse. 'Thanks, Paula,' she said, handing over the money.
'Any time; he's a little pet. 'night.'
Conor watched from the door as the girl hopped home across the wall and then he came back inside and locked up. 'Is he okay?'
'Just a bad dream,' Dee said. 'It's probably something he ate.'
'I'm sure he's fine.' He drew her into his arms. 'Now, where were we?'
Dee stepped back. 'I just want to look in on him. You get us some drinks and I'll be back in a minute.'
'Fine,' Conor said, and after fetching a beer from the fridge, he settled back on the sofa with the remote control.
Dee crept into her son's room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn't stir, one hand flung out over his head, the other tucked under his chin. His cheeks were flushed and looked damp, and Dee laid a hand across his brow. He was warm but not hot, she decided. Still, to be safe, she pulled back the covers and felt his tummy. Sam turned over in protest at the feel of her cool skin against his and she took the opportunity to lift his pyjama top and examine his back. Despite the muted glow from the night light she could see that his skin was clear and, feeling slightly silly, she pulled his top back down, tucked the sheet loosely around him, and left the room.
Guiltily, she hurried back down to Conor. This was really turning out to be a very poor excuse for a birthday. As she walked into the kitchen she began to undo the buttons on her shirt. 'Okay, birthday boy, I hope you're ready for your pres—' Dee pulled up short at the sight of Conor sprawled on the sofa, snoring quietly. 'No way!' she murmured, kicking off her shoes and climbing carefully on to his lap. She started to open the buttons of his shirt, dipping her head to follow her fingers with her lips. 'Hey, birthday boy, you ready for your present?'
Conor smiled but didn't open his eyes as his hands slid around her. 'Oh, yes.'
Chapter 4
Lisa settled the toddlers on the floor with blocks and shapes before going into the baby room. Martha was burping one baby, there was another gurgling under a play-gym, and the third was asleep in the crib. 'Keep an eye on my lot, will you? I'm just nipping out to the kitchen. Do you want anything?'
'Yes,
'My mother can go and—'
'Dee? Dee Hewson? I thought it was you!'
Dee pulled away from Conor and smiled at the little man standing behind him. 'Uh, hello, Mr Dunne, how are you?'
'Fine, thanks. Nice evening for a stroll.'
'Yes, yes, it is.'
'I was just wondering if there's any fish pie on the menu tomorrow,' he asked hopefully and winked at Conor. 'She makes a wonderful fish pie.'
'Yes; yes, she does,' Conor said. 'She's very good with her hands.'
Dee stepped on his foot. 'Not tomorrow, Mr Dunne, but I'm making some for Friday.'
'Oh, okay then.'
'Tomorrow is steak and kidney pie; you should try it.'
'Maybe I will. Well, goodnight then, safe home.'
'Goodnight, Mr Dunne.' She turned her face into Conor's shirt collar and groaned. 'It could only happen in this town.'
'It's just as well he came along when he did; another five minutes and he might have found you in a very compromising position.'
Dee laughed up at him, her eyes twinkling. 'You're all talk, Conor Fitzgerald.'
He turned for home, tugging her after him. 'We'll see about that!'
When they let themselves in the back door, the kitchen was empty and the small TV in the corner was on but silent. Dee frowned. 'I'll just go and check if everything's okay.' As she got to the landing, Paula was just coming out of Sam's room. 'Is he okay?' she asked, suddenly worried.
Paula nodded and smiled. 'He had a bad dream, but he's asleep again now.'
Dee let out the breath that she hadn't even realized she was holding. 'Did he say anything?'
'Nothing that made sense.'
'Did he have anything to eat before bed?'
'Just one of your cookies and a glass of milk. Honestly, Dee, he's fine.'
They went back downstairs and Dee went to her bag for her purse. 'Thanks, Paula,' she said, handing over the money.
'Any time; he's a little pet. 'night.'
Conor watched from the door as the girl hopped home across the wall and then he came back inside and locked up. 'Is he okay?'
'Just a bad dream,' Dee said. 'It's probably something he ate.'
'I'm sure he's fine.' He drew her into his arms. 'Now, where were we?'
Dee stepped back. 'I just want to look in on him. You get us some drinks and I'll be back in a minute.'
'Fine,' Conor said, and after fetching a beer from the fridge, he settled back on the sofa with the remote control.
Dee crept into her son's room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn't stir, one hand flung out over his head, the other tucked under his chin. His cheeks were flushed and looked damp, and Dee laid a hand across his brow. He was warm but not hot, she decided. Still, to be safe, she pulled back the covers and felt his tummy. Sam turned over in protest at the feel of her cool skin against his and she took the opportunity to lift his pyjama top and examine his back. Despite the muted glow from the night light she could see that his skin was clear and, feeling slightly silly, she pulled his top back down, tucked the sheet loosely around him, and left the room.
Guiltily, she hurried back down to Conor. This was really turning out to be a very poor excuse for a birthday. As she walked into the kitchen she began to undo the buttons on her shirt. 'Okay, birthday boy, I hope you're ready for your pres—' Dee pulled up short at the sight of Conor sprawled on the sofa, snoring quietly. 'No way!' she murmured, kicking off her shoes and climbing carefully on to his lap. She started to open the buttons of his shirt, dipping her head to follow her fingers with her lips. 'Hey, birthday boy, you ready for your present?'
Conor smiled but didn't open his eyes as his hands slid around her. 'Oh, yes.'
Chapter 4
Lisa settled the toddlers on the floor with blocks and shapes before going into the baby room. Martha was burping one baby, there was another gurgling under a play-gym, and the third was asleep in the crib. 'Keep an eye on my lot, will you? I'm just nipping out to the kitchen. Do you want anything?'
'Yes,
Similar Books
The Case of Comrade Tulayev
Susan Sontag, Victor Serge, Willard R. Trask
The Good Girl's Guide to Murder
Susan McBride
Wishing for Someday Soon
Tiffany King
Winged Warfare
William Avery Bishop
Self-Made Scoundrel
Tristan J. Tarwater
Transparent
Natalie Whipple
Northern Light
Annette O'Hare
Three Secrets
Opal Carew
Fifth Grave Past the Light
Darynda Jones
The Gathering Storm
Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson