Chapter 30
The living room was in chaos. Balloons, torn wrapping, a Twister mat, beads from a hair-braiding set—yes, Connor the hairstylist
had been busy. Olivia’s heart had completely melted at the sight of him carefully braiding not just Ellie’s hair but that
of her three friends.
Thank God the girls had gone outside to do the treasure hunt she’d helped Connor set up round the small garden. It was Olivia’s
second kids’ party in the space of a few weeks. She didn’t think she’d survive a third.
She grabbed a black bin liner from the kitchen and set about picking up the rubbish as Connor darted into the kitchen to sort
out the party food.
“No need to do that.” Connor’s dad, Mark, took the bag from her. “You’re a guest. Sit yourself down and Connor will get you
a drink.”
Today was the first time she’d met his parents, and she couldn’t say she’d warmed to them yet. “I’m happy to help.” She smiled
to take the edge off her next words. “And I can make my own drink.”
“I’m sure you can. It doesn’t mean you should have to. Tea okay?” Without waiting for her to reply, he turned toward the kitchen.
“Connor, make us all a pot of tea.” Then he turned back to her and indicated the sofa where she’d just cleared some space
and where Connor’s mum, Sarah, was now gingerly sitting down, clearly afraid she’d get something sticky and unsuitable on
her expensive-looking cream trousers. “Come and sit with us.”
Figuring she didn’t want to make today any more stressful for Connor than it was, she meekly joined them. The first and only
time she’d be meek, she promised herself. If they pushed her again, she’d push back.
“Connor tells us you met in Nantucket?” Mark said.
“Yes. I was there for my niece’s wedding.”
“And what is it that you do, Olivia?” Sarah asked. “Our son has told us very little about you.”
She suspected that was because they hadn’t asked. From the snippets Connor had divulged and the conversations she’d overheard,
it was clear they were only interested in Ellie. “I work in finance.”
“Ah, that explains it.” Sarah glanced down at Olivia’s tailored black trousers. “I thought to myself, Those clothes look well made, expensive.” As Olivia didn’t know what to say to that, she just smiled. “Do you have any children of your own?”
“No.” In her trouser pocket, her phone beeped with a message.
“Oh, do answer that.” Mark smiled. “Maybe the market has crashed while we’ve been talking.”
Taking the opportunity to break away from what felt like an interrogation, she glanced at her screen to find a string of messages
from Connor.
Let me know if you need rescuing.
And say anything you want. I don’t give a fuck whether they like you or not.
I bloody adore you.
Her heart faltered and she turned toward the kitchen to find Connor watching her. If she’d doubted his last text, she only
had to look at his crooked smile, the soft, blue eyes, to know he meant every word.
“Everything okay?” Mark’s question forced her to break away from Connor’s gaze.
“Yes, it was just a friend.”
“Good, good.” Mark leaned back against the sofa and crossed his legs. “I hope you don’t mind us saying this, but we noticed
you’re a little older than Connor.”
“I’m thirty-nine.”
“Oh.” Sarah blinked. “And you say you’ve never had children?”
Oh, for God’s sake. “That’s right. I never planned on them.” Funny how her usual stock answer—that she didn’t want children,
that she was career-focused—had subtly changed.
“It must be very strange for you, then, dating a man who has a child.” Sarah sighed. “Of course he had Ellie far too early
in life, and the flighty piece he had his rash moment with was never suited to be a mum, which is such a shame for Ellie.
Still, something very special came from his carelessness, and for that we’re very grateful.”
“He was twenty,” Olivia countered. “Who hasn’t been rash and careless at twenty?”
Sarah glanced at her husband, who cleared his throat. “There’s being rash, and there’s bringing a child into the world when
you have no stable job, no prospects, and are barely able to look after yourself.”
“Yet Ellie is thriving,” Olivia pointed out, angry on Connor’s behalf. “Clearly he grew up fast.”
“I suppose he had to. But we worry.” Sarah looked around the room. “I mean, look at where poor Ellie is living. No maternal
influence, just a horribly disorganized father who works in a small bistro that is never going to pay him enough for him to
afford a decent mortgage. We’re hoping he’ll find himself a lovely woman who can make up for his shortcomings.”
They hadn’t been quizzing her to see if she was suitable to settle down with their son. They’d been trying to persuade her to settle down with him. For the sake of their granddaughter.
“I hope he finds someone he loves and who loves his daughter.” She fought to control her temper but knew her voice was too
sharp for a cozy chat with her boyfriend’s parents. “As for his shortcomings, we all have our faults but the fact Ellie is
such a balanced, happy young girl is surely proof that Connor is doing everything right as far as she is concerned. You must
be very proud of him.”
Figuring if she said anything more, it would be along the lines of Why the hell have you made him think he’s not good enough, she stood up. “I’ll go and help Connor with those drinks.”
She turned and walked toward the kitchen, only to find Connor, tray in his hand, stunned expression on his face, blocking
her path.
“Not a word,” she muttered under her breath, grabbing at the mug of coffee she knew he’d made her because Connor noticed details
like that. He knew she never drank tea. He knew she’d be taken aback by the inquisition, hence his messages to her. “I’m going
outside to check on the treasure hunt before I end up strangling one or both of your parents.”
Connor watched as Olivia walked past his parents to the French doors and slipped outside. A trim figure in slim black trousers
and a simple beige sweater. Simple but, from the soft feel of it, cashmere. Not the outfit of choice for most women at a kids’
party. And yet she’d fit into the day so easily. This morning she’d helped blow up balloons, set up the treasure hunt, and
even sorted out the computer link so Ellie could talk to Amy after she’d finally answered his dozen messages and confirmed
she was around for a video call.
“That one’s a keeper,” his father remarked as he took the tray from Connor.
“I know.”
But it was impossible to keep someone who didn’t want to be kept, and he didn’t know where her heart or her head were at.
She didn’t want a family, yet it was clear from her trip to the indoor playground, the way she fought him to give Ellie her
riding lessons, and her excitement around this party that she adored his daughter. Olivia didn’t want anything to interfere
with her career, yet despite knowing that dating him had put her promotion dream in jeopardy, she hadn’t ditched him. He could
only hope that as she spent more time with them, she’d realize what he already knew: She could have her career and be part of a family. His family.
He ducked into the hall to grab their coats, then stepped outside and found Olivia leaning against the side of the house,
coffee mug in hand, watching the girls.
Wordlessly he handed her coat, which she accepted with a smile that looked . . . sweet? Sad? He wasn’t sure. She put the empty
mug on the ground, shrugged the coat on, and stepped into him.
He wrapped an arm around her. “Thanks. For earlier. What you said to my parents.”
“You don’t need to thank me for saying what should be blindingly obvious to them.”
He smiled. “I like having you on my side, but they’re not all bad. I did some stupid stuff when I was young.”
“And you’ve beaten yourself up over it ever since.” She looked up at him. “Ellie is great because of you, not in spite of you.”
Emotion balled in his throat and for a long moment he couldn’t reply; everything felt too tight—his chest, his lungs, his
windpipe. “What did they talk about,” he said eventually, “that sent you rushing to my defense?”
Her breath came out in slow exhale and she shifted closer—with anyone else, he’d call it snuggling. “They told me you needed
a woman who could make up for what they saw as your shortcomings.”
He kept his eyes on Ellie, watched as she laughed with her friends as they continued to chase the clues. “Which are?”
“Disorganization and lack of a decent career that would enable you to get a big house.”
He concentrated on his daughter and on keeping his breathing slow and even. “Not being irresponsible?”
“Oh, we covered that earlier.”
Silence stretched, and it slowly began to sink in. “So they were sounding you out, hoping you’d see how much Ellie needed
a mother. Preferably someone a lot better at parenting than me. And who earned a lot more money.”
“Pretty much, yes.”
Anger punched through him, along with a hefty dose of humiliation.
Olivia’s fingers smoothed his cheek. “They’re blinkered, Connor. They can’t see past the boy you were to the man you’ve become.”
“Yeah, but they’re not wrong about Ellie needing more than me.”
“They are. She’s perfectly content with her life.”
“Now, maybe, but as she gets older?” He sighed. Words tumbled out of him as he admitted the thoughts that kept him up at night:
“How can I help her as she makes the transition from girl to woman?”
“Just like you learned how to braid her hair.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, I’m not sure how good YouTube videos are at teaching you how to tell your daughter the facts of life, how
to empathize with her when she has her period. How to help her through the emotional roller coaster of dating when all you
want to do is fight off any guy who comes within a hundred feet of her.”
Olivia smiled. “You’ll read up on single-parenting a daughter, get advice from her grandmothers. And when it comes to boyfriends,
you can give her the male perspective. God knows, I wish I’d had that when I was growing up.”
He held her gaze. “But you won’t be around to help?” The words were out before he could censor them. She went rigid beside
him, and the bottom fell out of his stomach. “Sorry. Wrong time, wrong place.” Wrong fucking question.
She glanced away and for a long, heavy moment there was silence. When she finally turned those hazel eyes back to his, they
shimmered with emotion. “If you’d asked me a few months ago I’d have reminded you that I didn’t want a relationship, never
mind a family. Now . . .” She swallowed. “Here I am, playing at being happy families with this young guy who was only ever
meant to be a fling.” Her voice wavered on the last word and she inhaled sharply. “Everything I thought I knew about myself
has been turned on its head.”
“Dad, we did it!”
Ellie’s breathless voice interrupted the moment, something he figured they were both grateful for. “Well done, Turnip. Knew
you girls were too smart for that game.” He gave Olivia’s hand a quick squeeze, then threw his arms around his daughter. “Are
you ready for something to eat?”
“Yesssssss!” She grinned up at him. “Did you do pizza pinwheels?”
“Of course. You’ve got some pepperoni, and some tomato and mozzarella.”
She clapped her hands. “You’re the best.”
Coming so soon after the conversation with Olivia, he felt a sting at the back of his eyelids. Ellie was happy, and it was
time he took some of that credit. “You guys go in and wash your hands. We’ll bring the food in.”
He couldn’t resist a smile as Ellie shouted over to Emily, “Dad makes awesome pizza pinwheels. Wait till you try them!”
Olivia glanced at him. “Awesome, huh?”
“You know it.” Grateful for the release of tension, he clasped her hand. “Come and help me chop carrots and peppers. Can’t
have Emily telling her mum all she had to eat was pizza.”
He led her into the kitchen and gave her a knife, a chopping board, and a washed and peeled carrot.
She looked at it like it was going to rear up and bite her. “I’m not good at this.”
“It’s cutting a carrot into sticks. Not brain surgery.”
He watched as she tentatively grabbed the offending vegetable. Then nearly sliced her finger off as she brought down the knife.
“On second thought, I’ll do it.” He took the knife from her and eased her out of the way. “I prefer you with ten fingers.”
“Told you I was useless.”
He wasn’t going to lie, it felt good to flaunt his knife skills in front of someone who was so competent at pretty much everything
else.
“Show off,” she grumbled as she watched him slice.
He grinned. “Give me a spreadsheet and I’ll weep. Give me some vegetables to chop and I’m a king.” He nodded to the oven.
“If you can take the pizza pinwheels out of the oven without burning yourself, we can see how awesome they are.”
She rolled her eyes but grabbed an oven glove. “I presume, as you’re such a king in the kitchen, that you showed Aaron your
menu ideas?”
He blew out a breath. That was one way to wipe the smug from his face. “I’ve not seen him. Pat says he’d been on holiday.”
He fished in the cupboard for a bowl to put the veggies in. Also so she couldn’t see his face. “I did email them over to him,
but I’ve not had a reply.”
“When did you send them?”
He focused on sliding the sliced carrots and peppers into the bowl. “End of last week.”
He felt an arm circle his waist. “I suspect he’s waiting to see you in person to tell you how great they were.”
“Yeah.” He swallowed down the emotion, the fear. “So how are the pinwheels?”
She kissed his cheek. “Awesome.”