Chapter 16
THEO
I wake to the soft tap of keys.
Not a sound I’ve ever woken up to before.
It takes a second to place it.
Then I remember.
I’m not alone. Sadie .
My eyes snap open.
The pale light of dawn spills across the room. The linen curtains billow gently in the breeze drifting through the open sliding doors – and there she is.
Out on the balcony, laptop open, lip caught between her teeth, lost in whatever she’s working on. She’s wrapped in my robe, legs curled beneath her, hair wild from sleep… and me.
Desire floods my body as my mind brands the sight to memory, knowing it’s something I’ll ache for long after it’s gone.
She must sense my gaze because she looks over.
Her smile is slow, small, and totally my undoing.
I lift the edge of the quilt in silent invitation and her smile deepens.
She closes her laptop and pads over to me.
Places the device on the bedside table and without a word, shrugs the robe from her shoulders.
Now that is the greatest wake-up call known to man.
Forget coffee. Sadie. Naked. Lit up by the morning sun. Mine. All mine.
I grab her hand and pull her into bed with a low growl. ‘Too slow.’
She laughs softly, straddling me with purpose, her mouth already finding mine. ‘You’re insatiable.’
‘I’ll show you insatiable.’ I roll her under me and leave her in no doubt of how much I want her, how much I’m going to keep wanting her until she tells me to stop.
And when she does, I’ll step back. I’ll watch her walk away.
And I’ll do it without a fight.
Because this … this will always be hers to end.
Even if it breaks something in me I’ll never get back.
* * *
Sadie
‘What are we going to tell Lottie?’
We’re sipping coffee at the breakfast bar.
The fresh morning air drifts in through the open French doors, carrying Lottie’s distant chatter with it when Theo asks the question.
Isla’s taken Lottie to collect eggs and feed the animals – goats as well as chickens, much to Lottie’s delight – so his timing doesn’t surprise me. His expression does.
I set my phone down, which has been blowing up with blog updates, and bite my lip to hold back a laugh.
‘It’s not funny.’
‘It is when you’re blushing because of it.’
‘I’m not blushing.’
I give him a pointed stare and he rakes a hand through his hair, his bicep flexing against another white tee – yeah, I might have admitted last night how thirsty his white T-shirts make me. Or more specifically, him in them.
‘Okay, fine. I’m blushing.’
He really is. And it’s totes adorable.
‘Just answer the question.’
‘She’s three, Theo. She’ll think you’re keeping mummy’s bed warm and making her happy. All true.’
‘So it won’t confuse her?’
His tone shifts – gently, but enough.
Coffee forgotten, I fold my hands in my lap and hold his gaze. ‘She won’t suddenly start thinking you’re her new daddy, if that’s what you mean. Or at least, I don’t think she will. She barely knew Danny existed, and she never asks about him.’
His eyes darken at the mention of Danny, his hand curling into a fist upon the table.
But the sight doesn’t strike fear in me – not like it would have with Danny.
I trust Theo. I know he’d never hurt me.
Not like that. And it’s not the sight of his anger I mind.
It’s the weight of it. The hurt he carries – for Lottie, for me, maybe for the part of himself that wasn’t there when I needed someone. Not that he could have known.
‘That’s the one silver lining of him being so ignorant of her,’ I murmur. ‘She doesn’t feel the hole, because he never gave her anything to miss…’
And then it hits me, full force.
‘Much like how my own father…’ I swallow the sudden pang in my chest. ‘Funny how life has a tendency to repeat itself.’
Theo’s eyes soften into mine. ‘You’re everything she needs, Sadie.’
I hold his gaze, the past coming back to me like it happened only yesterday. The riverbank, his words…
‘That’s not what you thought about me seven years ago…’
His head lifts slightly.
‘You said I saw you as some kind of substitute.’
His eyes flicker as he registers my meaning. ‘I’m sorry for what I said back then. If I could take it back, I would. But you were so young?—’
‘I was an adult.’
‘Twelve years younger?—’
‘Newsflash,’ I say with a wry smile, ‘I’m still twelve years younger.’
He huffs a breath, jaw working. ‘But it’s different now.’
I cock a brow. ‘Is it?’
His eyes trail over me, stripped of anything but the truth. ‘No.’ It comes out gruff, pained, honest. ‘I wanted you then. And I want you still.’
Holy fuck. Of all the things he could have said. Of all the things I expected him to say. It wasn’t that. My own words, my own meaning repeated back at me. And my heart’s not prepared for it. My walls are not high enough.
‘I hated myself back then,’ he says, ‘for wanting you like I did. But I can’t hate myself for it now. Whatever this is… I’m all in. For as long as you need me to be.’
What if I asked him for forever, would he give it to me?
Because that look in his eye says yes. The way he anchored me to him last night, this morning… it all felt like yes.
But I can’t ask for forever.
Because I’m the one who promised it was for now .
The one who said my life with Lottie came first, always.
And I’m only just getting my life back; pushing too hard, too soon, for something this new, this untested, this delicate… knowing what I know of him, his inability to give that part of himself away. I’m cross I’m even contemplating it, when I should be cherishing what he is giving me.
So I push all thought of the future aside, and slip behind the now…
‘Until then, Uncle Feo ,’ I say, quietly teasing, ‘we’ll just tell Lottie that you’re my special friend.’
His brows lift, his mouth following. ‘Special, huh?’
‘ Very special .’
He grins, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me into his lap. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s far too devilish for the breakfast table.
‘Ew!’
We spring apart.
Two faces stare at us through the open French doors. Lottie smothers her mouth, half-giggling, half-grossed out, while Isla’s eyes twinkle bright.
‘Well, well, well…’ she says, sounding more Welsh than ever, one hand in Lottie’s, the other cradling a basket brimming with eggs as they walk on in. ‘Not sure whether I should tell the pair of you to wash your mouth out with soap or hose you down with cold water.’
‘ Soap ?’ Lottie scrunches up her face, looking properly disgusted now, and we all laugh.
‘Either way,’ Isla says, ‘it looks to me like you’ve already had your fill for breakfast.’
‘I don’t know about that, Mrs P,’ Theo says, his arm still deliciously hot and possessive around my waist. ‘I think I’m going to need the fuel.’
My eyes flare wide, my heart somersaulting as I kick him in the shin.
Now I’m the one turning crimson.
Isla chuckles all the more. ‘Hear that, Lottie? Our efforts won’t go to waste. Now hop up here and get those hands washed, you’re on chef duty with me.’
I watch them, Isla’s arm slipping easily around Lottie’s tiny shoulders, guiding her towards the sink like they’ve done this a dozen times before. And just like that, my daughter’s giggling, caught in the glow of someone who sees her, includes her, practically loves her already.
A lump catches in my throat before I can swallow it. Danny’s parents were long gone before I met him. I know nothing about them… except what they raised. Not that I blame them. I blame him .
But still, Lottie’s never known a grandparent. Never had anyone of that generation spoil her in that way, just because…
Theo’s voice comes soft beside me. ‘Hey, you okay?’
I nod quickly, dashing an escaped tear from my cheek with the back of my hand and smiling wide. ‘Yeah… Isla’s amazing with her.’
‘She should be,’ he murmurs, his hand caressing my side, gifting me the comfort I haven’t asked for, but he knows I need.
‘She’s got ten grandkids of her own. Most of them local.
She splits her time between here and helping out with them.
’ He pauses, adding for my ears only, ‘Her husband passed away not long before she came to work for me. She wanted something to help keep her busy. A new environment to be in.’
The ache in his words reflects something deeper. I know what he’s thinking: his dad, the void, filling it with work. Our grief may be shaped differently, but it echoes just the same.
I intertwine my fingers with his against my side, press my other hand over the top.
‘So Lottie,’ he calls out, ‘you fancy going to the beach after breakfast?’
I think even the cows in the next field heard her answer…
* * *
Theo
‘Not so far ahead, darling!’ Sadie hollers, a half-laugh in her voice as Lottie tears across the beach, her tiny feet kicking up wet sand. The kite I bought her – a blaze of colour – whips through the sky like it’s got somewhere better to be.
Though I’m pretty sure nowhere on earth could beat this right now.
‘It’s f’ying, Mummy!’ she shrieks with joy, her little legs pumping like she could catch the clouds. ‘It’s f’ying!’
‘She’ll be all right,’ I murmur, the sight tugging at my chest. ‘Gotta let her be a kid. It’s why we’re here, to let her run wild, right?’
And the rest , my head unhelpfully supplies. But I won’t let the guilt set in. Not when they’re so happy, and it feels this right.
‘Yeah.’
Sadie’s smile lingers on Lottie, her blue eyes bright and alive, her hair a chaotic tumble of waves… She looks every inch the mum on holiday. Or a woman who spent the night… and don’t go there. Not if you want to avoid sporting a semi in public!
A cheer goes up from a group of lads mid-footie match, and I reach instinctively for her hand. But her smile doesn’t waver.
A dog skirts by, close, barking. Not even a flinch.
‘It’s hard to believe she’s the same girl,’ Sadie says softly, her eyes still on Lottie.
‘She’s not,’ I say. ‘And neither are you. You’re both… brighter, stronger.’
I thread my fingers through hers and she smiles up at me.
‘Happy?’