Chapter 27
Every muscle in her body tensed, an instinctive need to shield Paloma from this intruder overwhelming her. She turned around and stared at a petite woman, modestly pretty with a short pixie cut and a slight frame.
“Lachlan’s … house,” Britt whispered as blood roared through her ears.
No, that couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be Lachlan’s house.
Because if it were his house, then that would mean Paloma was his …
daughter. Was that why he agreed to be her bodyguard?
Because he thought she might be the mother of his child, returning from the grave with a shattered memory?
Why wouldn’t he tell her that he recognized her?
That the magnetic pull between them could be because they shared a past …
unless they didn’t. He could be suspicious, keeping her close to find out why she had the face of the dead mother of his child.
“Paloma, come here, sweetie.” The woman reached for the child, a maternal protectiveness in her voice that made Britt’s jaw clench.
Paloma looked at Britt, tears brimming in her brown eyes. She pressed closer to Britt's side, her small fingers clutching Britt's shirt. “Why? We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“You barge into someone’s home and think you have the right to demand who I am?
How about you start by explaining who you are?
” Britt asked, her voice dropping to a dangerous octave she didn't recognize.
Her mind raced with possibilities—was this woman special to Lachlan, despite him telling Britt he wasn't with anyone?
A flutter of jealousy twisted through her gut at the thought of this woman playing house . .. with Lachlan and Paloma.
“That’s Stacy,” Paloma answered, her tone distinctly cooler than her usual cheerful voice. “She’s Daddy’s friend.”
“And I’m your friend, too, Paloma,” Stacy said, still angling to get the child from Britt. She bent lower to stare at Paloma with soft eyes. “Does your daddy know you’re here with this woman—”
“I can assure you that Lachlan has no problem with me being here. But I’m sure he’d have a problem with you letting yourself into his house unannounced.” Britt's words came out sharp and precise, laden with an authority she didn't understand but couldn't suppress.
Stacy faltered, a shadow of uncertainty passing over her features.
Britt’s suspicions were true. This woman was dropping by without Lachlan knowing, but why? What did she want with him? And why was she acting possessive of him and his daughter?
“How did you get in here, anyway?” Britt asked, lifting Paloma in her arms. Stacy wasn’t taking the child anywhere. “I didn’t hear the doorbell.”
Stacy regained her confidence, then dangled a keyring at Britt. “I used my key.”
Britt pushed past the woman, walking into the living room. Placing Paloma down, she stared into the little girl’s panicked face. “Finish putting away your Barbies on the shelves like I showed you so everything is neat and pretty. Can you do that for me?”
Paloma beamed at her. “Okay!”
“I’ll help you after Stacy and I finish talking.”
Paloma raced around the living room, grabbing the last of the dolls, then disappeared down the hallway toward her room.
Britt turned to face Stacy, drawing herself up to her full height. The stance felt familiar, like slipping into a role she'd played before.
“You and I both know you shouldn’t have a key to Lachlan’s house anymore,” Britt said, her voice carrying an edge of steel.
“What makes you think that? Lachlan didn’t ask for his key back. Sure, we had a misunderstanding,” she said, her cheeks flushed pink as she dragged a shaky hand through her hair. “But nothing has changed between us. I’m still his girlfriend—”
A sarcastic laugh belted from Britt’s lips. “His girlfriend? You? Does Lachlan know that you’re claiming a position in his life that he didn’t give you and that you don’t deserve?”
“Did he tell you that? Who are you?”
“You may want to be Lachlan’s girlfriend, but you’re not. I can promise you that he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You’re not his type.” The words tasted familiar on Britt's tongue, like she'd said them before.
Stacy’s face fell. “How would you know?”
The crunch of tires on gravel outside caused Britt’s body to tense.
She crossed her arms over her chest, her lip curling in a sneer that felt foreign and natural.
“Because you’re nothing like me. Leave the key on the table on your way out.
And I’d advise you to get over your little crush on him.
It won’t end well for you, and I’d hate to see you nursing a broken heart. ”
A car door slammed. Footsteps pounded the porch, heavy and purposeful.
“I don’t know who you are and why you’re trying to ingratiate yourself into Lachlan’s life, but it won’t work,” Stacy said.
“Whatever fling you have with him isn’t going to erase the months we’ve spent getting close to each other.
I’m not going anywhere. Lachlan won’t walk away from everything we mean to each other. ”
Britt's heart hammered as a key scraped into the lock. "He already has, can't you see that? Lachlan is mine and—"
“Britt!!” Lachlan’s voice boomed through the house. Britt turned to see the gorgeous man standing in the doorway, wearing the sexiest scowl on his handsome face. “What the hell are ye doing?”