“I know.” Ash reaches out, brushing Ro’s arm. “Are you sure you two can’t make a go of it?”
Ash had explained Ro was sullen because his fiancée—the mother of his daughter— broke their engagement off two months ago. She has been in Ireland for the past five months while Ro has largely been stuck here.
He shakes his head. “She doesn’t want me anymore.”
Visceral pain underscores his tone, and I feel for him. “I’m sorry to hear that. It must be so difficult being away from your daughter.”
“It’s killing me.” He takes a long drag of his cigarette, blowing smoke circles into the air.
“Fuck, this conversation is depressing,” Dillon says. “We all need cheering up. Jay, put on the music. Ro, come with me to get the meat for the barbecue.”
Ro unlocks his cell, pulls up some photos, and hands his phone to me. “Those are the most recent ones Clo sent me.”
Emer is sitting on a blanket on the ground, giggling at the camera, looking happy and content. She has a shock of thick dark curls and the biggest blue eyes. “She’s beautiful, Ro.”
His smile is sad, and my heart hurts for him.
Dillon slides his arm around his brother’s shoulder, squeezing him. “We’ll knock the rest of the album out in the next couple of weeks, and then you can go home to see her.”
Ro nods, shoving Dillon’s arm off before wandering into the house to get the meat for the grill.
“Can I help?”
“Nah. We’ve got this. Keep your pretty arse on that chair and have another cocktail.” Dillon puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles. “East! You’re on barbecue duty with me.”
Easton hops up, wrecking the jigsaw he so painstakingly made. “Fiddlesticks.”
Jamie snorts out a laugh. “Let me guess, that one’s all you?”
I flip him the bird when I’m sure E isn’t watching. “Damn straight it is, and I’m not apologizing. I’m not having my son go around cussing like a sailor.”
“Girl, good luck with that plan,” Ash says, swiping my empty glass. “You have zero chance of protecting those sensitive little ears around us lot.”