Orla’s throaty chuckle warmed me up a little more. “Way ahead of you. Are you looking for River?”
“Not yet. He’s next.”
“Don’t bother. He left his phone here when he went to Axel’s place and he hasn’t come back for it yet.”
My rejuvenated little heart returned to my boots. “Where’shere?”
“The flat. I’m having girl time with Ivy.”
“Where’s Folk?”
“At the house with Locke. Something to do with a piano; I wasn’t really listening.”
I’d heard whispers about this mythical piano. Still didn’t know where the fuck it had come from. Didn’t care. Not yet, anyway. “How’s our little dragon doing?”
“Kicking the crap out of my ribs.”
“Definitely an O’Brian then.”
“Honey, that was never in doubt.”
“McGovern by name, O’Brian by nature. The world doesn’t know what’s coming.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Hmm?”
“Don’thmmme.” Orla’s tone was softer than it ever used to be. Some days, pregnancy gentled her, and I was here for it. “I can see your morose face from this couch.”
“I’m not morose.”
Ranger snorted.
I kicked an empty Stella can at his back. “You can fucking talk.”
“Excuse me?”
“Ranger, not you.” All right. Maybe Orla’s sharp edges hadn’t entirely disappeared. “He’s a wind-up merchant.”
“Karma, sweetheart. Now tell me what’s up.”
“Nothing’s up. I’m just tired and homesick, and everyone around here’s either gone home or too stuck in their own misery to distract me. Tell Locke I miss him.”
“You don’t miss Saint?”
“No. I’ve got the hump with him for talking me into this mammoth trip.”
“He didn’t talk you into it. I did. It was the only way to make enough profit to pay for the giant empty fieldsyouand my moronic brother wanted to buy with magic beans.”
I blew a raspberry. “Yeah, well. Saint didn’t stop you. And he got to go home early,andhe’s airing my texts, so he can get in the bin. Or at least have some banging cuddle time with Cam.”
“That’s not going to happen. He already left again.”
“Who?”
“Saint. He rode out the same night he came home.”
“With Cam?”