7. Lockheart #2
I roll my eyes at her naivety and she glares at me, her eyes on fire again, and I have to suppress a laugh.
“You kept it a secret because you weren’t on anybody's radar. The press aren’t following you.
They’re not trying to get photos of you when you’re doing your weekly shop.
No one is interested in your everyday life.
But once they know that boy is mine, and they will, because it’s obvious to anyone who sees us together, they'll be hounding him and you and it’s not safe.
I just got him in my life. I'm not letting him go now.”
I stand in front of her pacing form and peer into her eyes, conveying just how serious I am to her through them.
I can see the cogs in her brain working, trying to find a way out of this.
Trying to reason it’s unnecessary, but she knows it’s pointless.
She’s seen the paparazzi following after us footballers, wanting photos of us doing the most boring and mundane things.
She’s seen how many likes and comments the ‘entertainment’ accounts get when they post pictures of us on social media.
Hundreds of thousands of people want to know every inch of our lives, and they wouldn’t stop if Lucky was involved. She knows this and she can’t argue it.
“We could… I could say… Shit. I don’t wanna live with you.” She knows I’m right, and she’s relenting, but she’s still struggling with it.
I’m not going to lie and say her not wanting to live with me doesn’t sting a bit, but one look at the fire burning brightly in her eyes tells me it’s because she wants me too much rather than not wanting me at all. And that’ll do for now.
“What am I gonna tell Lucky? I can’t just drop this bombshell on him and tell him we're moving in with daddy, Owen. It’ll confuse him, and I don’t want to do that. He idolises you, you’re his favourite player, and I don’t want to take that away from him if this all goes south.”
“Whoa, what do you mean?” Anger rises up from my belly into my throat and I have to control it before I unleash a fury on her like no other. If she thinks I would ever contemplate bailing on my son—
“Owen, I know you’re a good man with the best intentions, but being thrust into parenthood to a five-year-old is going to be hard. Lucky might not be receptive to his dad being here all the time all of a sudden, and he might play up, act out. It isn’t gonna be a barrel of laughs every day.
“You may wake up one day and decide you don’t want this for life, and I’d rather know that before I tell Lucky. I’m not sure I could deal with the repercussions of him not only losing his dad, but his idol too.”
She’s right in all she’s saying. It will be a huge adjustment. There’ll be tantrums and strops, mainly from me, but he’s my son, and she needs to know I’m going nowhere no matter how hard it gets. He’s ours now, not just hers.
“I get it, I really do. But he’s my son.
I have no choice in this, just like you.
You’re in it for life, right?” She nods her head and I nod mine too.
“So am I. It’ll get tough, but I’m not going anywhere.
You need to get that in your head and quickly please, because I don’t want to have this conversation again.
Our son will be okay. If you want to wait for a little while, I will honour that.
But not for too long. I don’t want him to think I lied to him or withheld information from him. ”
“Like I did,” she whispers and dips her head to look at her feet.
I know I shouldn’t, because complicating an already complicated situation is not a great idea, but I can’t help it. I reach over and grip her chin gently, bringing her head up so she can look in my eyes.
“You did what you had to in a situation that sucked. Stop blaming yourself. We’ll deal with it. Together. Alright?”
She nods her head and I know I should move my hand and step away from her, but I also know I can’t. Her eyes hold me captive, the fire dancing in front of me, and I want nothing more than to jump right into them and burn.
I rub my thumb over her bottom lip and she sucks in a ragged breath.
Her tongue dips out and wets her lips, and as the tip of it touches my thumb, it’s my turn to inhale a sharp breath.
I cup her cheek and she nuzzles into my palm.
My hand’s so big I’m able to stroke the hair behind her ear.
A gentle moan escapes her lips and the throb in my jeans gets stronger.
My head is screaming at me to walk away, focus on Lucky and not this mad physical connection I have with this woman, but I can’t force my feet to move.
I want to dip my head down and taste those lips again.
I want to jump into the flames and enjoy every lick of pain and pleasure they cause.
“Mumma, mum, is Lockheart still here?”
Lucky’s little voice breaks the spell and I stumble back and away from her.
But I don’t miss the way she has to suck oxygen into her lungs.
She’s just as affected by this weird pull we have as I am.
But as Lucky’s grinning face comes into my sight, I remember I have to focus on him.
Not on the throb in my pants or the ache in my chest that I have to ignore.
Because I have a son and he has a mum who’s more tempting than any glass of whiskey ever has been.