Kicking off my shoes and stripping off my coat, I crawl onto the bed with Andie and cuddle her close to me. She stirs and blinks awake, her eyes widening as she takes me in.
“Connor,” she whispers, her voice rough from her earlier tears. “You’re here.”
“Of course I’m here,achuislemochroí,” I murmur back, brushing a kiss against her brow. “Sure, and where else would I be?”
“I-I don’t know.”
I cup her cheek, stroking it with her thumb, lowering my head to kiss her, my tongue sliding into her mouth, fencing with hers. Drawing my head back, I press my forehead against hers.
“I love ye so much,leannán.”
Andie’s breath hisses in sharply. “Y-you do?”
She sounds incredulous, and I don’t know why she finds that fact hard to believe.
“Of course I do.”
Her eyes narrow suspiciously at me. “You’re only saying that because of the baby.”
I snort, rolling my eyes at her. “Don’t be daft, lass. Sure, and why on earth would I go and do something like that. I’m not an eejit.”
But Andie still looks unconvinced.
“Is breá liom tú. Ye have to believe it.”
“What does thatmean?” Andie groans, rubbing her forehead. “Youalwayssay it, but I don’t know what it means.”
“Is breá liom tú?” I clarify, and she nods. “I always say it, do I?”
I smirk at Andie as she frowns and nods again. “Yeah, but you’ve never told me what it means. You could be calling me an asshole, for all I know.”
I shoot her a look and grin at her. Why would I call her an arsehole?
“Is breá liom túis how ye say ‘I love ye’ in Irish, lass.”
Surprise crashes over her face as she quickly tries to remember the first time I said it to her. I can remember the first time I said it to her. It was after I beat the shite out of that good-for-nothing loser she used to date, and she told me to tell her a fact in Irish.
“Why did you say it back then?” she whispers, clearly remembering the same thing I am.
“Ye told me to say something in Irish. Tell ye a fact.” I shrug at her. Andie blinks in surprise as she blushes so hard her cheeks turn cherry red.
“You’re not upset that I’m pregnant?” Andie whispers, changing the subject so fast I’m surprised I don’t have whiplash. Now it’s my turn to blink at her in shock.
“Sure, and why would I be upset about that?” I ask, sliding my hand down to cup her slightly rounded stomach.
I have no clue how I didn’t notice her stomach is no longer completely flat or her tits are bigger. Probably because I am actually a fucking eejit, after all.
“B-because…I was on birth control. We haven’t even discussed what our relationship exactly is….” She trails off as my eyebrows shoot up.
“Fecking permanent is what our relationship exactly is,” I tell her, and she starts in surprise. “I love ye, lass, and I need ye and our wean in my life. I’ll not be letting ye go now. Ye’re stuck with me for life.”
Andie blushes with pleasure at my statement and moans as I capture her mouth with my own.
Chapter TWENTY-FIVE
CONNOR
Seamus glances over as I step into the basement room under Oracle. The Reaper’s domain. The swarthy Moldovan strapped to the blood-stained table in the center is panting, the soles of his feet bright red from the beating they’ve taken with a metal pipe. From the looks of things, Niall has moved to his hands. Two fingers look broken, and he’s missing a pinky, blood dripping down onto the cement floor.