31
Ryker
A few weeks later
“How’s it going, daddy-o?”
I flicked Devil off, watching Pia and Shaun across the club pouring over baby magazines. We’d painted the second bedroom a sage green and she’d hung white, light-blocking blinds, frilly lace-type material along the top to make it pretty.
Pretty. Whatever she wanted, I hopped aboard, even if the little s**t was a boy. She’d glared at me over the nickname, so I made sure to keep that one inside my head whenever referring to the little avocado-sized McGrath growing in her belly.
My house no longer felt like a cold shell. Pia had brought warmth, her books, her knickknacks scattered all over the place. I didn’t mind one bit.
I f*****g lived for the first time in over forty years,
“Got names picked out yet?”
I finally glanced over at
