O Come, All Ye Kellys (Love & Luck #7) - Isla Olsen Page 0,12

its head…

I shake my head. “It’s stupid. It’s just…this kid came into the ED tonight, and, I don’t know. I’m just…worried for him.”

I tell Blake all about Ryder and the foster mother and how Dr. Miles, while not prepared to make an official diagnosis, was pretty sure the boy is epileptic.

“I know it’s dumb,” I say, shaking my head. “I deal with literally hundreds of people a week so I have no idea why this kid is sticking with me. It’s just…he’s so young. And I hate that he’s not going to have the proper support for what will probably be a pretty difficult road.”

“Don’t ever say that,” Blake reprimands. “It’s not dumb. You care about people—that’s what makes you such an amazing nurse.”

I offer a weak smile and he dips his head to brush a kiss across my lips.

“Maybe you should go in to see him tomorrow?” Blake suggests. “It doesn’t sound like he’ll be getting many visitors from home…”

I nod, a little buoyed by the suggestion. “Yeah, I think I will.”

8

Wade

* * *

I feel like I’ve barely even shut my eyes after setting out the kids’ presents from ‘Santa’ when I wake to the sensation of strong arms being wrapped around me and bristly stubble scraping against the side of my neck as my boyfriend nuzzles against me.

“Are they asleep?” I murmur.

Brendan stiffens for a moment, before saying quietly, “Yeah. Like you’re supposed to be. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” I nestle back against Brendan’s strong body, savoring the perfect feel of him. “How’s Arya’s diaper rash?”

“It’s getting better, I think. That cream my mom gave us seems to be working.”

“That’s good. And—”

“You should really try going back to sleep,” he murmurs, cutting me off. “Otherwise I might start getting ideas.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “I like it when you get ideas.”

I feel a soft kiss against my neck and then Brendan starts moving his hand farther south, edging it slowly toward the waistband of my pajama pants and my rapidly hardening cock. Oh yeah, I like this idea…

But before Brendan can so much as graze my cock, we’re interrupted by our bedroom door slamming open and the whirlwind that is our six-year-old son. We tear apart immediately, Brendan rolling away from me just as Baxter vaults onto the bed.

“Argh! Jesus fluffing Christ! Oww!”

I reach out to turn on my bedside lamp, adding its light to the faint stream coming in from the hallway. In the new brightness I can see Brendan curled up in the fetal position, his face twisted with pain, while Baxter kneels on the bed right beside him.

“You okay, B?” I ask.

“We weren’t ever planning to do IVF, were we?” he asks in a grumbled voice. “‘Cause I’ve just been taken off the roster.”

“I’m sorry, BeeBee,” Baxter says, and I can see the concern on his face as he looks at Brendan. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Baxter, what are you doing in here?” I say sternly. “It’s way too early for you to be awake, you know that.”

“I wanted to see Santa, but he’s already been!” he cries, his face crumpled with disappointment.

“Well, of course he’s already been,” Brendan reasons. “He only comes while kids are asleep.”

“Baxter…” I begin in the same firm tone, “have you already been out into the living room?”

Bax seems to realize he’s backed himself into a corner with his previous comment and keeps his mouth shut, but the guilt is written all over his face.

“Right, that’s it,” I say, my eyes narrowed on my son. “You broke the rules, so you’re definitely not allowed to see your presents now.”

“But, Da-a-a-dd-yy…” Baxter sobs, almost in tears.

“Calm down,” I tell him. “You can see them later—once Arya wakes up.”

“And you’ll have to be on your best behavior until then,” Brendan says. “Otherwise Santa might come back and take your presents away.”

Baxter’s eyes widen in horror. “Could Santa really do that?”

“Do you want to risk it?” Brendan asks him, brows raised.

“Come on, bud,” I say gently, “you can stay in here for now and once Arya’s awake we’ll go look at the presents.”

Baxter nods and crawls under the covers, in between me and Brendan. I flick the lamp back off and settle back against my pillow, praying to the baby gods that my daughter will sleep for at least about six hours. Newborns can do that, right?

* * *

Of course, we hear Arya screeching through the monitor about an hour and a half later, during which time