First and Only (Callaghan Brothers #2)

But for that one hour he would find some reason to hang around, just so he could look at her, to know that she was safe and well. He could listen to her voice as she spoke with everyone else and hear a little bit about her day, what was going on in her life. That precious hour was the only thing that made his life bearable, got him through from one day to the next. He loved their son, treasured the time he spent with him, but without Lexi by his side, he felt as if part of him – the biggest, best part – was simply missing. It was the price he paid, every day, to keep her safe. From him.

During the day, at least, he had Patrick. They did all kinds of things together. Evenings he worked the bar, so that provided a little bit of a distraction. Nights were the worst. He would lie there, staring at the ceiling, remembering what it felt like to have her body snuggled against him, warming him. To hear her little sighs as she dreamed. To bury his head in her hair and smell the fresh, musky scent of her, knowing that with little more than a soft touch she would open for him, cradling his body with her own.

At night, he allowed himself to let go, to dream and remember. But it was all he could allow. The reality was that with a word from him, she would give him everything, without hesitation, without regard to herself. Ian knew this. It was exactly why he had to be the one to protect her and keep her safe, because she would never put herself or her needs above his own.

At least she seemed to be going on with her life, which was both a blessing and a curse. Ian wanted her to be happy, but he wished he could be the one making her that way.

She had a lot going on. She was on that new, experimental treatment plan. She didn’t talk about it much when he was around, but he knew it was brutal. For several hours each week she was hooked up to a machine that basically filtered her blood and reintroduced it back into her body with plant-based additives that were supposed to be well-tolerated. Michael described it as a type of “organic chemo” that was supposed to stimulate her natural body chemistry to start creating the clotting factors on its own.

Ian wanted to go with her to the treatments, but she had vehemently opposed that idea. The first couple of times he found himself at the hospital anyway, sitting outside the treatment room and waiting, blending into the shadows when she was wheeled in or out. But then she’d spotted him and pitched such a fit that he reluctantly agreed to stay away.

Renovations were an ongoing thing at the house, too, and that was certainly keeping her busy.

If that wasn’t enough, Aidan had secured property on the mountain – Ian still wasn’t sure how he’d managed that – and was in the process of building what promised to be his finest restaurant yet. From what Ian had gleaned, it was to be built in the style of an ancient Greek temple, built right into the mountainside itself, affording diners a spectacular view of the valley below. With aggressive plans to open for New Year’s, it was being touted as the number one most sought-after reservation on the East Coast, with a waiting list already a mile long.

Yes, Lexi’s life was full. And his... not so much. He’d withdrawn. His family didn’t try to talk much to him anymore, knowing they wouldn’t get a response. He loved Patrick, loved spending the days with him. But the time he loved most of all? The time that made him feel the most alive? The one hour when he, Lexi, and Patrick were all together, in the same room, at the same time. Like a real family.

Only she was late. Again. His hour – the one chance he had to be with her - had now been reduced to ten minutes.

Taryn shot him another glance as she placed a handful of Cheerios in front of Patrick. He grabbed them with his chubby hand and held them out to Riley. “You’re pacing again.”

“Is there something I should know about?” Ian stopped pacing and looked directly at her.

Taryn looked away, avoiding the question. “Why do you ask?”

“Lexi’s late again.”

“She’s not late. She’s just not as early as she usually is. Look, I’ve got things covered here. Why don’t you just go on in and help Jake?”

Ian’s eyes narrowed. Not only was she avoiding his gaze, she was trying to get rid of him. “What are you not telling me, Taryn?”

She didn’t answer, busying herself with cleaning up. “Why is she late?” he asked again.

“Why do you care?” She threw back at him. “God, Ian. You act like you’re married or something.” It was a direct hit, a knife in an open, festering wound.

“If it was up to me, we would be,” he said through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice level in front of the kids.

Taryn’s violet eyes pinned him. “Why, Ian? So you could treat her like a leper in the comfort of your own home?”