Claiming Serenity(68)
The words stuck in Layla’s throat and she kept moving her gaze from her hands to Donovan’s face. In each glance up at him, Layla sought permission, a small hint of approval from Donovan that he wasn’t sure he was worthy to give. “If you were okay with it… maybe a family like theirs… who’d lost… who’d never had and wanted so badly… they’d take good care of my… of this baby, right?”
“Layla…”
She shook her head again. “I… I don’t know what I want. This baby, all this, I’m so confused. Donovan, I’m so damn scared.” She looked down again, shifting her heavy bag to her other hand and Donovan took it from her, bringing her gaze back to his face. “I didn’t come here to sleep with you.”
“You said that.”
“I just… My friends, they have their own worries. They don’t need me adding to it and I just…” He couldn’t look at those tears, couldn’t take the small sob she tried to silence as quickly as she made it. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Donovan didn’t think. He didn’t care that Layla Mullens had changed his life. He didn’t care that his fear felt heavy and burned his insides. He didn’t care that no matter what they decided, this baby would be in the world, a living, breathing part of him, of her. It only mattered that he cared about Layla, that he’d do just about anything to take the tears away from her.
Her bag landed with a thump behind him when he tossed it inside the door and Layla stopped trembling when he picked up the other one at her feet and threw it next to the first one.
Donovan didn’t wait for her permission, then. He touched Layla’s face and smiled. “Come here, brat,” he said pulling her against his chest.
Donovan spent New Year’s painting Vaughn and Mollie’s new living room. Their new place was older, a small Victorian about sixty years old that would be nice once they tackled the damage. He was there because of Layla. She had told him she would be spending New Year’s with her friends, at a paint party instead of a bar. Work that would distract her instead of fun that put off the reality she was facing. He knew he’d go wherever she was and so he’d tagged along, ignoring how cool her friends were to him, hoping that one day they’d stop treating him like he was a disgusting asshole for getting Layla pregnant.
“Want another beer, Donley?” Autumn had asked, but just after he nodded his thanks, the redhead took the cold bottle away. “You know what? You don’t need one. If Layla can’t drink then neither can you.”
“McShane…” But the snap of Autumn’s sneer flashed toward Declan had the Irishman retreating, pretending to be focused on the bare trim he’d been painting. Later, when Autumn had left the living room and Donovan and Declan were alone, his best friend shrugged, told him, “Give them time, mate. They’ll come ‘round.”
Donovan didn’t care if they did. He was the asshole who’d knocked up Layla. He’d take their snippy comments and glares just to be around Layla. Just to make sure she was safe.
She was carrying his baby. The baby, he corrected himself. Sometimes she called it a baby. Most of the time, she called it… just that, ‘it.’ She wasn’t being hateful. She just didn’t want to get attached and he followed her lead. The pregnancy was confirmed a few days into the new year and it was three more weeks after that before Layla would allow her mother to visit her.
“My poor baby,” Dr. Mullens had said the second she entered Donovan’s living room and spotted Layla on the sofa bundled up under a thick throw. The morning sickness had been God awful with far too many moans of “Donovan, for the love of all that is holy… call a priest. I need an exorcism” from Layla. The afternoon her mother arrived, three weeks after she’d first come to live with him, had been the first time Layla was able to move from the bedroom without wanting to vomit.
Dr. Mullens had been apologetic, pleading with Layla, saying things like “I was just shocked” and “Oh, sweetie, I’m such an emotional idiot,” and when both women starting crying about the situation, about Cavanagh’s loss to Milford United, hell even about the damn death of the oldest lion living at the Knoxville Zoo, Donovan left them alone, only catching hushed words of apology and the sounds of Layla and her mother sniffling together on his sofa. Meara Mullins had been cautious with Layla, but still very sweet, and blessedly understanding when Layla told her that they’d planned to give the baby away. Little Rhea’s worsening health and her parents’ devastation had made Layla determined to heal another broken family. She wanted someone else to lavish their baby with the love she and Donovan didn’t seem ready to give.