First and Only (Callaghan Brothers #2)

There was sympathy in Michael’s eyes. Sympathy and something else – disappointment? “That’s what she wanted everyone to think.” Yet based on what Taryn had told him earlier, no one else besides him seemed to be fooled.

“Talk to me, Mick.”

Michael’s eyes glittered, the only indication of the powerful emotions he kept hidden away. With each interminable second that ticked by, the vacuum in Ian’s chest expanded. For Michael to hesitate that long, it had to be bad.

“She’s exhausted,” Michael finally said. “She’s not sleeping, not eating, not taking care of herself. She puts everything she has into Patrick, the house, and the new restaurant. She’s weakening to the point that the treatments are doing more harm than good. And the mind-fuck you’re doing on her is not helping.”

It wasn’t possible. It simply wasn’t possible. Ian saw her every day. Yes, she looked tired, but she had so much going on. And strained, yes, but he’d just assumed that was because of his presence. Ian imagined he looked much the same way; being around each other, trying to hold it together, was hard.

He clenched his jaw, wrapped his hand around the arm of the chair so tightly it cracked. Michael leveled his blue-eyed stare at him. Two men, brothers, with equally intense Irish eyes, who had done and seen more together than most brothers do in a lifetime, faced off.

It was Ian who breathed first. “Tell me what to do, Mick.”

Michael shifted in his chair. “It’s all or nothing, Ian. This is not something you can walk away from. Because I’m telling you right now – if you turn away from her again, it will kill her. And then, hell, I might just have to kill you myself.”

Flames flared in Ian’s eyes. He would expect those words from Kieran, or Jake, or any of his other brothers. But Michael? Michael was the healer, the one who never took sides. It was a testament to just how much of an asshole he’d been.

“I can’t lose her.” Ian’s head lowered. He rested his forearms on his powerful legs, his hands rubbing at his eyes. All of the rigid, hard lines of his body sagged. “Fuck, Mick,” he said, his voice weary. “I just can’t do this anymore. I swear to God...” His voice failed him for a moment, until he took a deep breath and gathered himself. “If I can’t hold her in my arms again...”

Ian felt a big, warm hand on his shoulder. It was nearly his undoing. He’d allowed no one – with the exception of his son – to get close enough to touch him these last six months, afraid the human contact might finally break down the last of his defenses.

“Alright, then,” Michael said softly. He gave Ian a few moments before he started outlining a plan.

*

It was hard to open her eyes. It felt as though fifty-pound sandbags had been laid over her lids. Her head pounded with the force of a thousand out-of-sync sledgehammers. Her mouth was so dry she didn’t even attempt to swallow, knowing it would hurt. And she was tired of hurting.

“Morning, Lex.” The words, though spoken in Michael’s deep, soothing voice, were like a bullhorn wired directly into her aural nerves. She winced, making her head throb all that much more.

“Son of a bitch,” she whispered hoarsely. “You drugged me.”

“I’m sorry about that, Lex,” Michael said, his voice reduced to little more than a whisper. “Your body needed some time to rest.” The regret in his words was genuine.

“Go to hell.” Lexi’s eyes were shut tight against the pain.

Unfazed, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist to check her pulse, then nodded in approval. “Much better.”

Unable to help herself, she groaned.

“Hangover’s a bitch, huh?” he asked, though his words were gentle, receiving a barely perceptible nod in response. “I can help with that.” A few clicks and swishes later, she felt a wonderful, cooling sensation flowing through her body as the pain started to ease almost instantly.

“Better?”

“Mmmmm,” she answered, her face relaxing. “That’s nice.”

Michael chuckled. “So I’ve been told.”

“Keep it coming and maybe I won’t have to kick your ass.”

Michael smiled. “Tease. Feel up for a visitor?” he asked. “Someone’s very anxious to see you.”

Michael nodded toward the door and Ian entered, holding Patrick. The little boy’s eyes lit up at the sight of his mama, his chubby arms extended as he reached for her.

Lexi avoided looking directly at Ian, concentrating on her son’s face instead. Michael raised the bed slowly so that she could hold him in her lap. Patrick nuzzled his lips against her face and mumbled, his words still unintelligible but his meaning clear. Lexi’s eyes filled with tears. “I missed you too, buddy.”

God, his eyes were so like his father’s. They had the power to fill her heart with so much love her chest felt like it might just explode.

“She can leave as soon as she’s ready,” Michael said to Ian.

Lexi’s gaze snapped up. Michael smiled and winked at her. “Later, beautiful.” And then the sneaky son of a bitch was gone.