Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Lance
“What the actual fuck?” Dog’s laugh echoes around the room. “You’re going on a date with a cougar?” Tears stream down his face as he tries to get control.
“It’s not a date,” I say for the thousandth time. “We’re friends. I like her company. Fuck’s sake, Dog, she’s old enough to be my mother. It’s not a fucking date.”
He snorts. “Mate. Come on. You meet this old bird out walking because she tumbles headfirst into the stream.”
“Burn,” I correct him.
“Aye, burn. Then you go back to her house, get pissed, and now you’re taking her for dinner? And not being dramatic, but drunk driving isn’t cool. Consider this a warning.” He lifts his eyebrows. “If that’s not a date, I don’t know what fucking is.”
“It’s not a date,” I snarl. “Anyway, what about Millie? How’s it going with her?” The blatant subject change works. He bites. Millie is the girl he’s been seeing since picking her up outside her granny’s house a few weeks ago. He helped her carry a bag of manure, then left with her number.
Dogs’ eyes immediately brighten. “She’s bloody awesome. The most amazing creature I’ve ever met.” His grin drops. “But…”
“But....” I prompt.
“She won’t put out.” His shoulders sag in defeat. “Six weeks. Six long weeks, Lance. I’m going to burst. I’ve seen her every bloody night, and the most I’ve had is a peck on the lips.”
It’s my turn to laugh. Dog’s not used to delayed gratification. Normally, one date and women climb him like a tree.
“I have no idea what to do,” he says, sounding baffled. “She has me by the balls. I’m asking her what she wants.”
“And what does she tell you?”
“She wants to spend time together.” He lifts his hands, making air quotes. “Get to know one another before progressing to the next level.”
“The next level?” My eyebrows shoot up. “You don’t do the next level. Or do you?”
He shrugs, helpless. “I’ve no idea what the next level is. But this girl’s something special. And I kind of want to find out.”
***
It’s Thursday evening and Hannah’s at my place for dinner. “You okay, sweetheart? You’re very quiet tonight.”
She keeps pushing her pasta around the plate, not eating.
“You’ve been playing with your food for the last half hour. It’s not like you. What’s going on? Anything I can help with?”
I wait, willing her to answer. Pushing Hannah never works; it’s a trait from me.
“Dad.” Her voice wobbles. Tears well instantly. “You’re not coming home, are you? I’m… I’m going to be from a broken family now. That’s what Shelly Winters says. I’m a broken child. Split straight down the middle.”
My jaw drops. Her voice keeps rising.
“Kids like me spend their lives being pulled from one home to another. Then their parents meet other people, and suddenly they are pushed out of the picture. Unwanted.”
Her face crumples. She bursts into tears. I’m out of my seat, her face between my hands in a beat. She’s so small and fragile, so unlike the little firecracker I know.
“You listen to me, Hannah.” My tone is sharper than I intend, but I need her to listen.
“You will never be pushed out of my home. Never. You’re the most important person in my world.
” I breathe out slowly. “And no, your mother and I won’t be getting back together.
” The honesty, though necessary, tastes foul.
She stares up at me, eyes wide, terrified.
“But we both love you. You’re our priority. You always will be. For both of us.”
The tension in her small shoulders eases.
“Finish your dinner,” I say softly. “We’re going for ice cream.”
Arthur’s Ice Cream Parlor has been in Aviemore for fifty years. In my opinion, it’s better than sex. Well, the sex I’ve had anyway. You can get anything. Any flavor. Any topping. Any sauce. Hannah and I come here at least once a week. It’s our thing.
We settle into our usual booth and tuck in. Chocolate sauce already drips down her cheek. I bury a laugh. She’s at an age now where she can take offence to the strangest things. Her favorite phrase is: Are you laughing with me or at me? She’s twelve going on twenty-one.
As she talks, someone at the counter catches my eye. A wild cloud of crazy blonde curls. Katie.
She’s ordering a tub to go, back to me, curves everywhere. My gaze drifts over her body. Far too slowly. Hell, I want that.
My mind betrays me. Again. Her naked beneath me. My hands on her hips, lips on her neck.
What the fuck? I’m eating ice cream with my daughter.
Hannah chatters away; I’m not listening. Luckily, she seems to have recovered from her meltdown. A grunt from me is all she needs to keep talking.
I snap my eyes back to her just as Katie turns. She doesn’t spot me. I watch her saunter out into the street, then vanish.
“Dad,” Hannah shrieks. “Are you listening to me? Can I come to your place this weekend?”
“Huh? Sorry, sweetheart. I was miles away.”
She huffs, folding her arms across her chest. “I said. Can I come to your house this weekend?”
Her eyes turn to slits, daring me to say no.
“Um…” Guilt tightens my chest. “I have plans tomorrow night. But Saturday… sure.”
Her glare says isn’t happy, but she nods.
“Okay, Dad.”
***
Friday evening arrives fast. I’m picking Katie up soon.
I’ve changed my shirt three times, trousers twice, and redone my hair. I’m ready to go.
It’s a date, whether I admit it or not, no matter how many times I tell Dog it isn’t. He’s not fooled in the slightest.
The truth is—I want it to be a date.
I haven’t wanted anything this badly in a long time.
My heart hammers as I drive up to Eden House. I swear I was calmer in Baghdad.
Pulling up in front of the little cottage, I spot a candle flickering in the window. I grab my phone and send a quick text.
Remember to blow the candles out.
Her face appears. She waves, then leans forward and blows the flame out.
My cock reacts like an adolescent teen. I adjust myself, swearing under my breath.
Her front door creaks, and she steps out dressed in fitted jeans, knee-high boots, and a pale-blue wool sweater. Everything clings to her. Her hair is a riot, like every time I’ve seen her. Full makeup. No glasses; she must be wearing contacts.
I watch, mesmerized as she strides down the path, hips swinging like sin. I lower the window. She leans in.
“Going my way, soldier?” she purrs.
And I almost shoot my load in my pants.