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SEAL the Deal(77)



Maeve eyed him discriminately and shrugged. “A 7, I guess.”

“He’s a 9 ½,” Jack said, pointing at Mick, “and I’m just a 7?”

Maeve’s eyes widened innocently. “What? I’ve seen Mick with his shirt off. It’s been years since I’ve seen what’s beneath that packaging. Things tend to sag with time.”

Jack’s eyes flashed in challenge as he ripped his shirt over his head, revealing a tight abdomen rippled with muscles, and sculpted arms that didn’t need flexing to look impressive.

The temperature in the room increased by ten degrees.

Lacey snickered quietly, fanning herself.

“So what do you think now?” Jack asked, daring Maeve.

Maeve just grinned. “I don’t know yet. Keep going.”

***

Rolling over, Lacey frowned at the feel of cool sheets alongside her. She wished Mick would have spent the night, but they all needed to catch up on their sleep since the night in the ER.

It was still dark, but Lacey could hear the first song of morning coming from a lone bird outside her window. Not many sang in the winter’s wee hours, but there were always a few who were tenacious.

Lacey reached toward her lamp, the soreness of a day spent painting spanning from her shoulders to her fingertips. Her thoughts flew to the beautiful baby’s room downstairs. Her grin wide, she envisioned the tiny crystals in the chandelier that glistened in the light, scattering colorful rainbows onto the walls. The heirloom quality crib was fit for a princess, and the shades of pink were as sweet as cotton candy.

As excited as a five-year-old on Christmas morning, Lacey jumped out of bed, suddenly needing to take just one more look at the magical space.

Bess was going to love the room, Lacey thought, stepping quietly down the stairs, not wanting to wake Maeve.

Flicking on the switch, the winsome chandelier shone its light on Maeve—not asleep in her room at all—but curled up on the floor of the baby’s room, her face streaked with tears.

Lacey’s felt the air rush out of her lungs. “Maeve. What’s wrong?”

Maeve wiped her face. “Oh, shit, Lacey. I thought you were asleep.”

Lacey paled. “Oh my God. Did you hear from the hospital or something?”

“No. No. That’s not it. Bess and the baby are fine. This is…nothing. Just forget it. Go back upstairs. Everyone is entitled to have their little breakdowns, right? It’s probably PMS.”

Lacey sat on the floor beside her. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Maeve scooted a couple inches further from her friend.

“I’m not leaving till you tell me what’s wrong.”

Maeve reached for another tissue, and blew unceremoniously. “It’s nothing, really.”

Lacey crossed her arms. “I can sit here waiting all morning.”

“Dammit.” Maeve rolled her eyes. “It’s just, this,” she said, throwing her hands up to the room. “It’s just—hard.”

“Hard,” Lacey prodded, bewildered. “Why?”

Maeve let out an exasperated breath. “Because I can’t have kids.”

It took a moment before it sank in. “You can’t have children?”

“No. All that bullshit about hating kids is just that, bullshit. I just can’t have one.”

“Oh, Maeve, I’m so sorry. Are you sure?”

Maeve nodded. “A few years ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.”

“My God. That’s too young.”

“Yeah, that’s about what I said to the doctor when he told me. No one ever thinks about the women who get it that young, you know? It’s just not that common, but it happens.”

“Are you okay now?”

Maeve reached over and knocked on the doorway. “Knock wood. Anyway, the doctor had told me I’d be smart to harvest some eggs before chemo if I wanted to have kids because it can do damage.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No. That dick I was married to gave me some crap about if it’s in our destiny to have kids, then we’ll have them.” Maeve shook her head. “I can’t believe I ever listened to him. But I was too scared of losing him right then to question him. I didn’t want to face cancer alone.” Combing her hand through her hair, she sighed. “He actually stuck by me through the surgery and the chemo. But then he moved on to someone else. It didn’t help that he found her while we were still married.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Maeve leaned her back against the doorway. “Really, I can’t blame him much. He’s just in his thirties like me, you know? Having a wife with breast cancer isn’t something he was prepared for.”