I’d been hurt enough by my family for one lifetime, thank you very much. I wasn’t ready to deal with any of them. “I don’t do well with change.” I took a deep breath. “My life has changed in a lot of ways since my fortieth birthday.”
“It sounds it.” He shrugged. “Change doesn’t have to be bad; ye know. It can be a good thing, too.”
“I, um, I’m glad to hear you say that because I am not the only one who’s life is about to change.”
His brow puckered. “What do ye mean?”
“You said that family means a lot to you, right?” I watched his expression go from confused to beaming.
“Absolutely. Family is everything.”
“Right. And one day you want a family of your own, correct?” I bit my bottom lip, keeping my eyes locked onto his.
His expression grew guarded. Suspicious. “Yes, but ye made it clear that ye didn’t want marriage or a family. Did ye meet someone else?”
I was already shaking my head. “No, it’s nothing like that.”
“Then what could have changed that has to do with me?”
I couldn’t take it anymore, so I blurted, “I’m pregnant.”
He blinked and sat there for a full stunned minute. “Are ye saying I’m going to be a father?”
I nodded slowly, relieved he didn’t question if he was the father. Because that would imply that I slept around. I might be a modern woman, but I still only slept with one man at a time.
I cleared my throat. “Yes.”
He rubbed his jaw. “From our one night in the Pub?”
I nodded again. “There’s more.”
“More? What more could there possibly be?”
“We’re having twins.”
His jaw fell open and the rag slung over his shoulder fell to the table. He gaped at me and scrubbed a hand over his smooth-shaven jaw. “Are ye sure?”
“Dr. Joy confirmed it just this morning.” I still couldn’t believe I was responsible for growing one human being, let alone two. Then I had to raise them and try not to make a train wreck of their lives. “I’m eight weeks now.”
“Twins….” he breathed the words out, sounding more in awe this time rather than in shock. He slapped a hand down on the table and grabbed the rag then slung it back over his massive shoulder. “Well, that settles it, then.”
This time I frowned as an uneasy feeling filled me. “Settles what?”
“We’re getting married.” He gave me a wide-toothed grin.
“E-Excuse me?” I sputtered.
“Ye heard me, lass. I’ll call me mum and make all the arrangements. Ye won’t have to do a thing.” His accent thickened with his excitement.
“But you said they won’t accept me,” I managed to get out, as my own level of shock set in. This conversation had taken a turn I wasn’t prepared for.
“I was just mad at ye because ye used me over a stupid bet, when I really liked ye. Besides, ye said ye didn’t want marriage or children, and I did, so what was the point of starting something? Me mammy will be thrilled to be a grandmammy.” He beamed. “As thrilled as I am to be a daddy.”
I threw up my hands. “You’ve lost your mind, Matthew McGinnis.”
He hoisted a shoulder. “Can’t a fella do the right thing?”
I was already shaking my head. “Give me some credit. I would never get married just because I’m pregnant.”
He rubbed a hand over his smooth-shaven jaw. “Then why did ye tell me?”
“Because I was trying to do the right thing.” I tossed down money on the bill. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and my children.”
He threw my money back at me. “Yer money is no good here from now on. And I plan to take care of me children, too.”
“I would never deny them their father,” I said carefully to be sure he understood me, “but that doesn’t mean I need your help.”
“Ye may not think ye don’t, but mark me words, yer going to get it.” He thrust a finger in my direction as he stood up. “A McGinnis never breaks his word.” Then the stubborn man stormed back over behind the bar.
I could be stubborn too. I blew out a frustrated breath…
What the hell had I gotten myself into?
Chapter Six
The next day I met old man Truman Winters at my mailbox out front on Lighthouse Lane. Truman was nearly blind and a bit forgetful. Even with his coke-bottle glasses, he still delivered the wrong mail to people on a daily basis. He really should retire, but he was the nicest man in town, and being Mayflower’s mail carrier gave him a purpose since his wife passed away years ago.
Zoe hooked him up with pies each week, Harm gave him a different essential oil each week, Morti had coffee talks weekly, and I had my staff give him a therapeutic massage monthly. He was a special man to us all.
