Chapter 17
Olivia kissed her new niece on her soft, downy head and felt something inside her chest shift. Damn her hormones. They’d been
giving her hell the past few days as she’d watched her sister become an emotional mess over her baby daughter.
And, yes, Tabby was ridiculously cute, but . . . “I bet she’s not as sweet at two in the morning.”
Jessica laughed. “She’s not a good sleeper, no. And five a.m. tends to be her wake-up time. And mine.”
It was Olivia’s wake-up time too, but instead of changing a nappy or soothing a fractious baby, she’d pull on her running
gear and go for her daily jog by the Thames.
She glanced back at her sister, who looked happy but exhausted. “And they say women can have it all, be a mum but also go
to work on no sleep and seesawing hormones.”
Jessica smiled and kissed her bright-eyed baby daughter. “That’s why we get maternity leave.”
As if life for a mum got any easier after six months. She’d seen both her sisters live through teething, chicken pox, and
God knows what else kids caught when they went to nursery school. Then there was the frazzled making of packed lunches, ferrying
them round to various after-school activities, entertaining them during the school holidays, frantic dashes to be there for
plays, for assemblies. And that was without the stress of work.
She felt a tug on her hand. “Can we go now, Aunt Livia?”
Olivia smiled down at Mia. “Of course. We’re going to have a great day. We’ll see art in the morning and fish in the afternoon.”
Jessica patted the top of Mia’s head. “Be good for your aunt. You’ll enjoy the aquarium.”
Olivia frowned. “And the Tate?”
Jessica avoided her eyes and waved them both away. “Take care, have fun. See you later when you’ve worn my daughter out. Or
she’s worn you out.”
“Where are Matt and Harry going?” Mia asked as she and Olivia walked to the tube.
“Your brothers are at football. Your dad’s taking them so your mum can have a rest.”
Mia giggled. “If Tabby lets her. She cries a lot.”
Olivia laughed. “I bet. But she’s cute, so I guess we forgive her.”
“What art will we see?” Mia asked once they were on the tube.
“Well, we’re going to the Tate Modern, so we’ll see modern and contemporary art.” Mia frowned and Olivia tried again. “Paintings
and sculptures that were created over the past one hundred and fifty years.”
Mia scrunched up her nose. “But that’s old.”
“I guess it is.” God, was she doing the right thing, taking her niece to the Tate? She’d figured kids liked painting and drawing.
“I hope you’ll enjoy it, but if you don’t, we’ve got the aquarium after.” That had been Jessica’s idea.
Mia’s face lit up. “I love seeing the fish. Oh, and the rays. And will there be sharks?”
“Um, I don’t know. We’ll find out, won’t we?” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to the aquarium and experienced
a pang of shame. Her nieces and nephews were all growing up and she’d not noticed. She wasn’t the aunt they’d have fond memories
of. She was the aunt who sent them money on their birthdays—the dates meticulously noted in her phone—not the aunt who took
them to cool places. Or who had fun with them.
She glanced at Mia. If Jessica hadn’t asked, she’d not be with her niece now. She’d be preparing her presentation for Monday.
“Mia, you know I love you, yes?” she said as they got off the tube and started walking through Blackfriars Station. “Even
though I don’t see you as often as I’d like.”
Mia grinned. “That’s ’cause you work hard. Mum says you have an office in a tall building made of glass.”
“I do. I could show you one day, if you like.”
Mia nodded. “Cool.”
It was a five-minute walk to the Tate, a place Olivia liked to go when she needed to unwind, to clear her head. To be inspired.
But, she realized once she’d taken Mia through three collections, it didn’t do much for an eight-year-old.
“When can we go see the fish and the sharks?”
“After lunch.”
Mia pouted. “But I want to go now. This place is boring.”
If they went now, they’d have nothing to do this afternoon, and she’d promised Jessica a full day. “Let’s go to the Expressionists
collection. You might enjoy that, it’s very eye-catching.”
Mia sighed but followed her into the lift.
When Olivia stepped into the room showing the Expressionists collection, though, what caught her eye wasn’t the vivid paintings
on the wall. It was the man sitting on the low bench, hands resting loosely on his thighs.
“Connor?”
His head reared up; his gaze bounced to hers. A beat later he was on his feet, striding toward her, arms outstretched.
Her pulse rocketed; her arms lifted, ready to go around his neck, her legs moved in his direction, ready to run.
No!
She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t see him when she wasn’t over him yet.
He must have seen something in her expression because he halted. Exhaling, he jammed his hands into his pockets. “Livvy.”
“What on earth are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “Just . . . appreciating the art.”
“Connor!” Mia wrapped her arms around Connor’s legs.
“Hey, Dancing Queen, how are you doing?”
Her niece giggled. “Can we dance again?”
Connor grinned. “Are you asking?” Mia nodded vigorously and he laughed, the sound causing a tight band to cinch around Olivia’s
chest. “Then we should find somewhere to dance.”
His eyes lifted to hers and it was like she’d put her fingers in a live socket as the force of that electric-blue gaze fizzed
through her.
But then his gaze darted over her shoulder and he froze.
“Dad!” someone said.
A girl about Mia’s age with brown curly hair rushed up to him. “Can we get out of here? You were right, the paintings suck.”
While Olivia tried to unfreeze her brain, she was dimly aware of Connor giving an embarrassed laugh. “I didn’t say they sucked
exactly. Ellie, this is Olivia. We met in Nantucket.”
Ellie gave her a shy smile.
Ellie—the name he had tattooed on his arm. His daughter.
“You did say suck, Dad.” Ellie laughed up at him and Olivia felt a punch in her chest. It was his laugh, and the look she was giving him, indulgent, amused, was his look. Those bright blue eyes, full of mischief, were his eyes. “Suck was the word you used. I remember ’cause it was funny.”
She felt Connor’s eyes on her, willing her to look at him, but she couldn’t cope with it, with him, with any of this. He’d
duped her. To think, she’d fallen for his carefree charm, his sexy-single-guy-out-for-a-fun-time vibe. How much of that week was
a lie?
“Well, art isn’t for everyone.” Feeling as if she were in some alternate universe, she grabbed her niece’s hand. “Come on,
Mia, it’s time to go.”
“Are we going to the ’quarium now?”
Again, she ignored the look she knew Connor was giving her. “Yes.”
“Yippee!” She turned to Connor and Ellie. “Can they come too?”
This was not happening. “No.” It was too sharp. She inhaled. “I think they’re busy, sweetheart.” Finally, she looked up at
Connor. “Isn’t that right?”
His gaze probed hers and she saw everything he was feeling: Frustration, irritation, amusement. And longing. Shit, she wished she could unsee that.
Olivia’s eyes pleaded with him, but no way was he letting her go just yet. Not until he had the chance to explain about Ellie.
He dragged his gaze away from Olivia and down to Ellie. “What do you reckon? Do you want to go to the aquarium with Mia and
Livvy?”
“Olivia.” The woman who haunted his dreams, whose face he couldn’t stop seeing when he shut his eyes, gave him a cool stare.
“My name is Olivia.”
Ellie, bless her, giggled. “Dad always gives people nicknames. He calls me Turnip.”
He glanced at Olivia. “See, you had a lucky escape.” Before she had a chance to say anything, he nudged his daughter. “So,
stay here and look at more paintings or go to the aquarium. Your choice.”
She rolled her eyes. “Duh, the aquarium. I told you, these paintings—”
“Yes, I think we’ve established your views on modern art.” He tried to keep the amusement out of his voice. “It looks like
we’re joining you, Mia.” He slid his gaze to Olivia. “If that’s okay with your aunt?”
If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under now. “Of course. It’s a free country.”
Still clutching Mia’s hand, Olivia turned and walked ahead of them, her message clear—they weren’t going to have time alone.
With a resigned sigh, he reached for his daughter’s hand, though his gaze didn’t leave the woman ahead of them, the trim figure
dressed in black denim trousers and a cream shirt—her customary colors. She was quietly stunning.
“She doesn’t seem to like you much,” Ellie whispered as they followed Olivia and Mia out of the Tate.
“You saw that, huh?” He shrugged.
She sniggered. “Bet you can get her to like you. Everyone likes you.”
Touched, he kissed the top of her head. “I’m certainly going to try.”
Olivia and Mia skirted the tube station, so clearly Olivia had decided they were going to walk to the aquarium. It suited
him; he’d far rather be out in the fresh air strolling along the Thames. “Fancy an ice cream?” he asked Ellie as he spotted
the silver van. When she nodded, he pointed ahead. “Do you want to ask Mia and Livvy if they’d like one?”
“Olivia.” Ellie gave him a little push. “She didn’t like your name for her.”
“I reckon it’ll grow on her, like Turnip grew on you.”
“You’re so bad.” With a shake of her curls, she skipped up to the woman and child ahead.
When it came to charm, to getting people to like you, his daughter was streets ahead of him. He watched as Olivia smiled down
at Ellie.
A second later his daughter rushed back to him. “Olivia said no, but Mia wants chocolate chip.”
“And you?” he asked, walking over to the kiosk.
She rolled her eyes. “You ask me every time, and every time I say—”
“Strawberry.” He grimaced. “I keep hoping you’ll see sense and pick a decent flavor. Kids like chocolate. You like chocolate. Why don’t you want a chocolate ice cream?”
“’Cause I like strawberry.”
He couldn’t argue with an eight-year-old’s logic, so he bought three ice creams—chocolate for himself, because he wasn’t stupid.
Also because he wasn’t stupid, he gave Ellie the ice cream to give to Mia. Pretty soon the pair of them were chatting.
Feeling pleased with himself, he strolled up to Olivia. “Guess you have to talk to me.”
“Actually, I don’t.” She gave him another of her cool looks, and fuck, it did things to him that he shouldn’t admit to, considering
he was in the presence of two eight-year-olds.
“Fine.” He swept his tongue across the ice cream and took a hit of satisfaction when her eyes traced his movement. “I’ll do
the talking. I’m not married. Just in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.”
She could deny it all she wanted, but he saw the flash of relief cross her face. “It must be fate, us meeting again.”
She gave him another long, piercing look. “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid. It was Ashley. She told me she’d contacted you.”
“Did she also tell you I set her up with my boss?”
Her eyes held a flicker of interest but she quickly dampened it. “I’m sure she’ll give me the details.”
He took another lick of the ice cream and felt her gaze on him. “Sure you don’t want one?”
She turned her head away, stared at the two girls chatting happily ahead of them. “I’m sure.”
“It’s just that you seem to be very interested in mine.”
Was it his imagination or was there a little more color in her cheeks now?
“I’m interested in getting to the aquarium and losing you there.”
Laughter shot through him. God, he’d missed her sharp tongue. “You’re angry with me because I didn’t tell you about Ellie.”
“Yes, I’m angry.”
“I’m sorry.” He sighed, staring down at his melting cone. Deciding he needed his full concentration on the conversation, he
demolished the rest in two bites, using the time to work out how to explain himself. “I’m sure you’re not interested in the
details, so I’ll be brief. Ellie’s mum, Amy, isn’t in the picture. Aside from a few video calls, she hasn’t been from day
one.”
Her forehead wrinkled in a frown. “You’re raising Ellie alone?”
“Yeah, but both sets of grandparents pitch in. Amy’s parents live in Devon, so for the past few years, they’ve had Ellie for
a month during the summer. Gives her a holiday and me a chance to . . . not be a dad for a bit. Not that I don’t love being
her dad, I mean, fuck, it’s the best job in the world, but sometimes—”
“You need to be a guy.”
He smiled ruefully. “Yeah. And I know it’s selfish, so I make sure in that month I do something for Ellie. First time she
went, I stayed home and made her a climbing frame. Past two years, I’ve worked in Nantucket. Last year I saved the money to
redo her bedroom. This year I was saving for riding lessons.”
“And working on ideas for the restaurant you’re going to own.”
He glanced at her. “You didn’t scrub the entire week from your memory bank, then.”
She focused back on Mia and Ellie. “We shared a lot about ourselves, or at least I thought we did, yet you didn’t tell me
the most important part of your life.”
She wasn’t angry, he realized with a start. She was hurt. “I wanted to be the Connor you saw. The laid-back, happy-go-lucky single guy with no responsibilities. Plus . . .” He heaved
a sigh. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”
“Less of you?”
Avoiding her eyes, he looked over at the river. “I fathered a kid at twenty when I had no clue what I was doing in life, no
prospects beyond being a reasonably decent bartender. If my parents hadn’t helped me out with a deposit for a place, with
taking care of Ellie while I worked nights at the bar, I . . . I don’t know what I’d have done.”
He didn’t get to find out what she thought because Mia and Ellie chose that moment to turn around.
“Aunt Livia, Ellie says she’s going to Go Ape tomorrow.” Mia bounced on her feet. “Can I go with her?”
He had to give Olivia points for trying, but her smile was too tight, the little laugh she let out too shrill. “That sounds
lovely, sweetheart, but I don’t know what plans your mum has for tomorrow.”
“But you took me out today to give Mum a rest. She’s gonna need to rest again tomorrow.” Mia’s grin was wide and hopeful.
“Pleeease?”
“We’ll see.”
Temporarily placated, Mia turned back to Ellie.
The moment they started walking again, the laugh Connor had been battling to keep quiet burst out of him.
Olivia gave him a death stare. “You think this is funny?”
“Absolutely not. Watching you being manipulated by an eight-year-old?” The smile wouldn’t budge from his face. “Not funny
at all.”
“I’m very happy to take Mia out tomorrow,” Olivia retorted. “It’s you I’m not keen on seeing again.”
It was the last time he had a chance to speak to her alone that day, but it didn’t matter, because he had a feeling he’d see
her tomorrow. Whether Olivia liked it or not.