Page List


Font:  

“Three years.” Hard to believe it had been that long. That brought on another surge of panic. Her life was passing by so quickly.

“And how long since your divorce?”

“Two and a half years. He’s remarried.” And could be expecting a child any day or week or month.

“Are you two on friendly terms?”

“We talk.” She didn’t consider Steve a friend. He’d robbed her of her one chance to hold her son, having the baby swept away the second he’d been delivered, and asking the doctor to give Tamara something to calm her down, which had knocked her out. But their split had been amicable. Mutual. They remained...acquaintances.

She drank a little more of her wine. Had to wait a minute before sending anything more solid down her throat. Floundering, losing focus, she stared at her plate. Reminded herself what she was doing here.

“What about you and Stella? You think you’ll remain friends?”

She heard the stupidity of that question even as she asked it—since the woman had ditched him because he was taking in his mother’s child to raise. But desperation drove many things. Including stupid questions to fill the silence.

“I have no desire to. So, no.”

Okay, then. That was clear.

But her father had said that Flint’s spending habits had changed when the rich girlfriend came into his life. She had to get around to that somehow.

Or segue into offshore accounts.

She was drawing a blank.

Because she wasn’t focused.

Maybe over dessert.

* * *

He knew how he could help her. Not the details, not yet. But Flint had a goal now. Find a way to repay Tamara, or the fates, for helping him out on one of the worst days of his life.

Not quite the worst. Because in another way, it might have been the absolute best. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had a sister. A brand-new human being to raise.

He had family.

And it now seemed obvious to him that his payback was in helping Tamara heal enough to have a family of her own, too. To someday have a baby of her own to raise. There were other options if she couldn’t give birth herself.

His and Diamond Rose’s payback, really. They both owed her.

That infant sister of his already had a job to do. Because that was what you did when you planned to amount to something in life. You used the gifts you were given. You worked as hard as you could. You helped others.

The things he’d taught himself somehow. Or a message given to him subliminally in his crib.

His little sister’s talents might not be clear yet, but for now, being an infant was all it was going to take.

The connection seemed unmistakable to him. Diamond Rose, who’d been screaming her lungs out, had instantly calmed when Tamara had picked her up.

Sign one.

Sign two. Tamara, who hadn’t held a baby in years, who considered herself unable to hold one, had picked up Diamond Rose.

Still piecing things together, he had no idea how it was all going to work. What he should or shouldn’t do. But he felt confident, as Tamara helped him with the dishes, that the answers would come to him.

He had the basics down anyway.

“I should be going,” she said as soon as the dishes were done and the counters wiped. He’d put some of the leftover lasagna in a container for her. One serving was all she’d take, suggesting he put the rest in serving-size portions in the freezer, so that on nights when the baby wasn’t cooperating, he could still eat a good dinner.


Tags: Tara Taylor Quinn The Daycare Chronicles Romance