Born in Shame Page 16

Spotting company, the boy grinned, showing an angelic face smeared with food. He tossed up his chubby arms. “Mum.”

“Mum, indeed.” With an expert swipe Maggie had her son scooped into one arm. “Look at you, Liam Sweeney, not a clean spot to be found on you. And eating biscuits before tea.”

He grinned, blue eyes dancing. “Kiss.”

“Just like your father. Kisses fix everything.” But she obliged him before turning to aim a killing look at Gray. “So, what have you to say for yourself, Grayson Thane?”

“I plead insanity.” He shifted the baby, patting, soothing, even as he dragged his hair out of his eyes. “It’s not my fault. Rogan got called into the gallery, and Murphy’s out plowing something, so I was drafted to watch that twenty-pound disaster. Then the baby was crying, and Liam got into the cookies. Ah, the kitchen, Brie, you don’t want to go in there.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Trust me on this. And the parlor’s kind of . . . well, we were just playing around. I’ll buy you a new vase.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Not my Waterford.”

“Ah . . .” Taking help where he could find it, Gray turned his attention to Shannon. “Hi. Sorry about this. I’m Gray.”

“Nice to meet you.” She jerked a little as Con rushed past her legs to take advantage of the crumbs littering the floor. Then jerked again when Liam leaned over and took a handful of her hair.

“Kiss,” he ordered.

“Oh.” Shannon’s heart sank a little. Gingerly she pecked his pursed and smeared lips. “Chocolate chip.”

“I made them yesterday.” Taking pity on her husband, Brianna slipped Kayla into her arms. “And from the looks of it, there’s none left but for the crumbs.”

“I was just distracting the kid,” Gray said in his own defense. “Kayla needed to be changed, and the phone was ringing. Jesus, Brie, how can two of them be more than twice as much work as one?”

“It’s just one of those unfathomable mysteries. Redeem yourself, Grayson, and take Shannon’s bags to her room, if you please?”

“No problem. It’s really a quiet place,” he assured her. “Usually. Ah, Brie, I’ll explain about that spot on the parlor rug later.”

Brows knit, Brie took a few steps forward, viewed the chaos of the room she’d left meticulously neat. “Be sure you will. Shannon, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” In fact, it was more so. The noisy welcome had done more to relax her than any smooth manners could have. “This is your baby?”

“Our daughter, Kayla.” She stepped back so that Shannon could have a better look. “She’s a month old today.”

“She’s beautiful.” A little more stiffly, she turned back to Maggie. “And your son?”

“Such as he is. Liam, say good day to . . .” She trailed off, stumped. “To Miss Bodine,” she decided.

“Shannon.” Determined not to be awkward, Shannon offered a smile. “Good day to you, Liam.”

He responded with something that would have required an interpreter, but the grin needed no translation.

“I’m going to clean him up, Brie. Let me have Kayla, and I’ll tend them while you show Shannon her room.”

“I’m grateful.” She passed Kayla over so that Maggie headed toward the kitchen with a child in each arm.

“Chocolate,” Liam demanded, quite clearly.

“Not on your life, boy-o,” was his mother’s response.

“Well.” Brianna lifted her hand to her hair, which was slipping out of its pins. “Let’s get you settled. I’ve put you in the loft room. It’s two floors up, but it’s the most private and the most special.” She glanced over as they started upstairs. “If you’d rather not have so many stairs to deal with, I can change it in no time.”

“I don’t mind the stairs.” She found herself uncomfortable again. Odd, she mused, how much easier it was to deal with Maggie’s abrasive challenge than Brianna’s open welcome.

“The room’s only been ready for a few months. I had the attic converted, you see.”

“It’s a beautiful house.”

“Thank you. Some of the changes to it I made after my father died and left it to me. That’s when I started the B and B. Then when I married Grayson we needed more room still, for a studio for his writing, and a nursery. Our rooms are on the first floor, off the kitchen.”

“Where’s Kayla?” Gray wanted to know when he met them on the stairs on his way down.

“Maggie has her.” In a move so natural and of such long habit she barely noticed, Brianna lifted a hand to his cheek. “You should go for a walk, Grayson, clear your head a bit.”

“I think I will. It’s nice to have you here, Shannon.”

“Thank you.” She lifted her brow when Gray kissed his wife. It didn’t seem quite the casual kiss a husband might give before going off on a walk.

“I’ll be back for tea,” he promised and trooped off.

Brianna led the way to the next floor where a door was already open wide in invitation.

The room was more than anything Shannon could have expected. Wide and airy with a charming window seat set under the sloping eaves of one wall, and a big brass bed tucked beneath the other. Skylights and pretty arched windows let in the sun and the spring air. The lacy curtains billowed and matched the creamy spread.

Fresh flowers were waiting to be sniffed, and every surface gleamed.

She smiled, as she had when she’d seen the valley. “It’s lovely. Really lovely, Brianna.”

“I had it in mind for a kind of special place. You can see to Murphy’s farm and beyond from the windows there.”

“Murphy?”

“Oh, he’s a friend, a neighbor. Murphy Muldoon. His land starts just beyond my garden wall. You’ll be meeting him. He’s around the house quite a bit.” Brianna roamed the room as she spoke, fussing with lamp shades, twitching at the bedspread. “And this room’s more private than the other rooms, a little bigger than most as well. The bath is just here. Grayson read some books, and he and Murphy designed it between them.”

“I thought this Murphy was a farmer.”

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