Anything for You (Blue Heron #5)(88)

Again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“GRUMPY AGAIN,” RAFE SIGHED.

“And holding a very sharp knife,” Connor said.

“I’m holding your heart in my hands, Connor darling. Tell Uncle Rafe what the problem is.”

“Can’t you just make the coconut cake, Rafe? Please? Just do your job?”

The sous-chef sighed a Catholic sigh—Colleen had taught him—and turned on the mixer.

Coconut cake with a dollop of homemade key-lime ice cream was the dessert special. The burger of the day was buffalo with a kale, mango, jalapeño and mint chutney served with a side of truffle fries. Soup du jour—a cold asparagus.

“What is this? These aren’t the greens I asked for,” he said, staring at the iceberg in the fridge. “Who the hell ordered iceberg? It’s fake lettuce.”

“Connor, for the love of God, stop yelling,” Colleen said.

“I’m not yelling. And why are you sitting on the counter? Why, Colleen? Why? You’re making more work for me. I have to clean that now.”

“Stop looking at me as if you’re planning to pick your teeth with my bones.” Colleen shifted and winced a little. “What did Jessica do now?”

“Nothing. She’s buying a house.”

“That’s great!”

“No, Colleen, it’s not.”

“Put the knife down, brother mine. Let’s pretend you’re a civilized person. Tell Rafe and me what’s wrong. Talk. Move your mouth while making sounds. Express your emotions. You can do it.”

He didn’t want to talk. Everything was wrong. It had taken a Herculean effort not to argue with Jessica last night and tell her it was incredibly dumb to buy a fixer-upper when he had a mint-condition, perfectly restored house that would fit not just him, her and Davey but their future children, as well. Nope. He was Mr. Understanding, which had him clenching his jaw so hard his teeth throbbed.

Then, after he’d dropped Jess back home, his mother had decided to come in the bar and force him out of the kitchen to talk about her wedding. And not just her wedding. Her honeymoon. She wanted Connor to know that just because she was menopausal didn’t mean that certain parts of her were dead. Why? Why? Why did she do this to him? Was he too old to file child-abuse charges?

Add to this, he ran into Gail the Tail when he stopped by the convenience store and had to make polite chitchat. Hi, how are you, congratulations, how’s Savannah, how are you feeling?

Now, Colleen was still sitting on his counter, and still pregnant—eight days past her due date, and his back was killing him with sympathy pains.

And Jessica didn’t want to live with him, which probably meant she had no plans to marry him and have his babies.

“Hail Mary,” Colleen whispered.

“Full of grace,” Rafe continued.

“Con?” His sister’s voice was weird. “I think my water just broke.”

He dropped his knife. “In my kitchen?”

“Oh, God,” she said, and her face changed.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay, Dog-Face, it’s okay.” Holy Mary, Mother of God, please don’t let him have to deliver his niece. He helped her off the counter, and sure enough, her tent-size dress was wet. “In my kitchen, Colleen,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “How dare you and all that. Can you stand? Are you okay? Don’t push. Should I get a basket or something? Oven mitts? Call Lucas, Rafe.”

“Shut up, or I’ll have the baby right here. Rafe, call Lucas!”

“On it,” Rafe said, his phone already to his ear. “Lucas, hi, handsome, it’s Rafe, get your ass here, she’s finally in labor.”

Colleen was gripping Connor’s arms hard. “You good? Still good?” he asked. “Want to sit? Should I move you? Wanna lie down? Should I call 911? Boil water? Collie?”

“I’ve always dreamed of delivering a baby,” Rafe mused.

“Shut up!” the twins snapped in unison. Then Colleen squeezed his arms even harder. Her eyes widened, and Connor could actually see the contraction roll through her. “Holy St. Romeo, this hurts,” she whispered. “That was enough. I don’t want any more contractions. I’m good without them.”

Connor’s back spasmed. “You’re okay. You’re fine! You’re really brave.”

“No, I’m not! I’m a baby, remember? I’m terrible with pain!”

“No, no, no. That’s a lie.” His shirt was already stuck to him with sweat. “You’re a champ. A hero. Uh...don’t have the baby here. Please. Wait for Lucas.” He glanced at Rafe. “Close the restaurant.”

“We’re not open yet.”

“Close it, anyway!” he snapped.

“I don’t want to have the baby here, Con.” Her voice was high and scared. “Please don’t let me have the baby here.”

“No! No, you will not have this baby in my kitchen.”

Her eyes met his, wide with shock. Another contraction clenched her in its fist, and her eyelids fluttered. A little whimper escaped from her mouth. Her knees buckled a little, and he held her up. “It’s okay, Collie,” he said. “You got this.”

It was so good to be a man.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.