Page 399 of Manhattan Bossholes

I moved to step around him, ready for this conversation to end.

Seamus blocked me. “It’s about Catie,” he blurted.

I frowned, confused. “What⁠—”

“I’m her biological father,” he said on a rush, keeping his voice low so no one overheard. “I had no idea, until I saw her in the bookshop, and she looked so much like my sister. I’ve been trying to reach Sinead, but she’s not answering her phone, and she hasn’t posted anything on social media.”

Probably because she’s in rehab, I thought.

“So I tracked down Sinead’s best friend from school. She confirmed I’m the dad,” Seamus finished.

I felt a stress headache coming on. I didn’t want to know this. I didn’t want to get sucked into Declan’s feud with the O’Rourkes.

“I know what you’re thinking. What kind of selfish git doesn’t know he has a child?” Seamus scrubbed the back of his neck, uncertain. “Seven years ago, Sinead and I were on and off. We were off when I found out she was pregnant, and since she didn’t say anything to me about it, I figured she’d found some other bloke.”

“Seamus,” I said. “You need to talk to Sinead and Declan about this. Not me.”

“So help me talk to them,” Seamus begged. “I just want to get to know Catie while she’s here. I understand if Sinead doesn’t want to tell Catie yet about who I really am. I’ll follow any rules she lays down. But if I could just come over, you could say I was a family friend. That would work, right?”

I hesitated. This wasn’t a decision I could make for Sinead—or Declan, while he was Catie’s guardian. But Catie might wish she knew her father one day. And as far as I could tell, Seamus truly meant well, and he seemed so excited to learn that he had a daughter. Surely that was a good sign.

“I’ll talk to Declan,” I said at last. “But I can’t promise anything.”

Seamus smiled in eager relief. With a sinking heart, I noticed where Catie had gotten her dimples.

That night I was in my bedroom getting ready for bed when Declan strolled in wearing nothing but low-slung gray sweatpants. “It occurs to me,” he said, “I have a pool in the basement. And you’d look great swimming naked.”

I smiled and squirted lotion into my palm. I’d skipped my bedtime rituals the last few nights, and I didn’t want my skin to start getting dry and itchy. “Is everyone in your family an insomniac, or is it just you?”

“Just when I’m trying to work out a problem.” He poked at the jewelry and makeup items I’d left scattered on the top of the dresser, picking things up and absently sorting them into rows and categories that probably only made sense in his head.

“What problem are you trying to solve?” I asked.

Declan shrugged off my question and flopped on my bed, the picture of easy, masculine grace. He looked like he belonged on a billboard, advertising something expensive and irresistible. “Come swimming with me.”

I could feel my blood heating on cue.

I sighed. “I really do need to get some sleep.”

Declan opened my lotion and sniffed it. His smile softened. “This smells like you.”

“Well, arguably I smell like it,” I pointed out, but he was already taking over for me. He draped my leg over his lap and started massaging lotion into my calf muscle.

I moaned. Catie had me on the run most days, and it wasn’t like I really had time to stop and stretch in between chasing her around. “That feels good.”

“I could get used to this. Helping you rub your lotion in hard-to-reach places every night.”

“Declan,” I scolded, laughing.

“I was talking about your back,” he said, faux innocently. “How’d your thing with Molly go?”

“Good,” I said. Seamus’s request flashed through my mind. “I ran into Seamus O’Rourke.”

Declan’s hands tightened on my calf. “Did he upset you?”

“No. He doesn’t seem as bad as his dad,” I said. “He mentioned he was trying to get in contact with you about something important.”

Declan’s eyes flashed. “Seamus is a spoiled rich kid who thinks his charm absolves him from the harm his father inflicts on everyone else. He and I have nothing to discuss. He might consider the situation important, but I highly doubt I’d agree.” He scowled. “Why was he talking to you?”