Having Faith (Callaghan Brothers #7)

“Sweetheart, you have no idea,” he said, his voice softer.

With a much-martyred sigh, and a smile he was sure she had not meant for him to see, Faith sank back into the pillows and closed her eyes.

After assuring himself that Faith was resting comfortably, Kieran went back downstairs and did a little recon. It didn’t take him long to find everything he was looking for; Faith was very organized. He found clearly labeled containers of homemade soups and stews in the freezer. Several boxes of tea in the cupboard, along with sugar and local honey. Extra bedding was in the hall closet.

Satisfied, he made up a makeshift bed for himself on the sofa and settled in.

*

Faith couldn’t believe it when she woke up a full twelve hours later, still weak but feeling noticeably better than she had. She smiled, remembering how Kieran had come to take care of her the night before. He really was the sweetest, kindest man she had ever met. And gorgeous. And smart. And funny. In fact, if Faith sat down and envisioned her idea of the perfect man, Kieran would fit the bill quite nicely.

A small ache bloomed in her chest, but she stuffed it down. It didn’t do any good to think things like that. She might as well wish for a mansion or a Mercedes or a vacation home in Aspen (which would be stupid, since she’d never been skiing once in her life and had no desire to start). The only thing that could come of wishing for such things was heartbreak and disappointment.

If life taught her anything, it was to be thankful for what she had.

She was happy now. Happier than she had been in a long, long time. She had Matt. He was happy and healthy, and she couldn’t ask for a better son. They had their own house, nestled in a beautiful valley. A good, if not lucrative job at the Celtic Goddess, offering great benefits and enough to ensure their basic needs were met. She had a friend now, too. She and Lacie chatted almost every day.

And there was Kieran. Despite her not-so-subtle attempts to discourage him, he was always around, cheerfully helping out. Matt adored him. She didn’t know what they would have done without him. It was painful to think of the time when he would move on to other things, so she shoved that thought aside, too. She was tired of fighting him; he was a force of nature. Trying to resist him completely was as futile as trying to defy gravity.

She would enjoy all of it, including Kieran, for whatever time she had.

Like that kiss they had shared. It had only been that once, but it had rocked her world.

She took her time getting out of bed. Her entire body felt stiff and achy. Discarding her sweat-soaked PJs – her fever must have broken overnight - she tossed back a couple more tablets and turned on the shower. The hot water felt heavenly against her aching muscles, and the fresh, clean fragrance of the soap made her feel almost human again.

Donning a fresh pair of pajamas – with Matt gone there was no need to bother getting dressed – she picked up her cell phone and frowned. There were a couple of messages from Matt, all from last night. Nothing since. She felt a tiny stab of disappointment, then reminded herself that Matt had been concerned enough to ask Kieran to check on her. He was probably having a good time and didn’t want to disturb her.

Still, knowing Matt, he was worried. Faith typed in a quick message: Feeling much better. Hope u r having a gr8 time. LM.

LM was their code for Love, Mom. It saved him embarrassment in case one of his buddies was around.

Faith took her time heading downstairs, gripping the banister since she was still a bit lightheaded. She blinked when she got to the bottom. Neatly folded blankets and extra pillows were set beside the couch. She had no recollection of putting them there.

“You shouldn’t have come down,” Kieran said, startling her. She turned around to find him standing there freshly showered, looking more than a little yummy, holding a tray with scrambled eggs, toast, jam, tea, and juice. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers.

“Kieran!” Color rose in her cheeks as she realized what she must look like. Hair still damp from her shower in loose curtains around her face. Faded old flannel pajamas, so worn they should have gone out with the trash years ago but so comfortable.

“I heard you moving around. I was going to bring this up to you, but since you’re here, I guess the couch is as good a place as any.”

*

She blinked, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“I mean, ‘breakfast on the couch’ doesn’t have quite the same ring as ‘breakfast in bed’, but it’s the thought that counts.” He beamed at her. She looked beyond adorable in those pajamas, the faded images of Eeyore peeking out from all over. Though she was still too pale, there was a bit of color in her cheeks and her eyes didn’t look quite so feverish anymore.

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