But instead she gripped the boy’s shoulder and tugged him back, away from Lukas. He felt the loss of warmth, of connection, like a blow.
‘Lukas?’ she said again as she held the boy’s shoulders. ‘Is something the matter?’
They were both looking at him expectantly, the boy’s eyes widening with a vivid combination of childish curiosity and fascination. He locked the yearning back inside. Humiliated.
‘Of course not,’ he snapped, because for the first time in a very long time he didn’t feel okay—he felt broken again.
The boy flinched and jerked further away from him into Bronte’s arms—all the childish excitement of moments before extinguished in a heartbeat.
Lukas winced, hearing the cruel echo of his father’s voice in his own. And regret crushed his chest. He’d messed up. He let his hand drop and glanced at Bronte, unsure of what to do next.
He had no experience with children whatsoever. And he’d obviously frightened the boy. He wanted to make it right.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, keeping his voice soft, and for the first time in a long time letting his uncertainty show. ‘What should I do?’
* * *
‘Nico, it’s okay. Lukas didn’t mean to scare you.’ Bronte ran her hand over Nico’s hair and kept her voice light, even though her heart was pounding so hard she could hardly breathe.
Lukas had looked stricken when Nico had embraced him. She’d realised in that moment, his reluctance to come here, to visit Nico, wasn’t about selfishness, or convenience, or a lack of emotion on his part. It might well be the opposite.
She shook off the dangerous thought.
Don’t think about that now.
She knew Lukas’s barked remark had startled Nico, but she doubted there was any permanent damage. Nico was just tired and way too overexcited, never a great combination for an active four-year-old. But now she had to convince Lukas he hadn’t done something monstrous by being a little short with his nephew.
Kneeling down, Bronte gave Nico an easy hug and tapped her finger on his nose, pushing a lightness she didn’t feel into her tone. ‘You know what, Nikky,’ she continued. ‘Lukas said he was sorry to you, so I think maybe you should say sorry to him.’
‘Why?’ Nico said with the bluntness of all four-year-olds.
‘That’s really not necessary,’ Lukas said at the same time, his frown making Bronte’s heart pound even harder.
She knew she needed to be careful not to read too much into his eagerness to make amends. But there was something so endearing about seeing Lukas stick up for the little boy who was a childlike image of himself—especially as she suspected he very rarely, if ever, had to second-guess himself, or apologise to anyone.
Bronte cleared her throat, determined to unblock the emotion lodged there. ‘You want Lukas to play with you, don’t you?’ Bronte said, addressing Nico.
Nico considered the question and she could feel the tension in Lukas as he waited for the boy’s answer. Nico nodded.
She swallowed to release the blockage. ‘Then you need to say hello properly, and ask him nicely,’ she said. ‘Running up and shouting at him probably scared him a little too.’
Nico stared at Lukas. ‘I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to.’
Lukas’s lips twitched; he was clearly seeing the absurdity of the situation. ‘That’s really okay. I’m good now,’ he said gravely, and she had to stem the insane urge to hug this taciturn man for treating Nico’s apology with the gravity it deserved. However absurd.
‘Do you want to come play with my Lego?’ Nico said, getting more animated, his caution disappearing as quickly as it had come.
‘Sure.’
Before Lukas had a chance to say more, Nico had gripped his hand and was tugging him across the room towards the house he was currently making for Dora the Explorer.
Bronte’s heartbeat stuttered and stumbled as she watched Lukas fold his long frame into the child-sized chair next to Nico’s. The furniture creaked under his weight as he spread his legs out under the table in a futile bid to get comfortable. He bent his head next to his nephew’s and the two of them began sorting through the colourful plastic bricks together, Nico chatting away about Dora and Lukas nodding and clearly struggling to keep up with the flow of information. She swallowed furiously, then noticed the way Lukas’s black cashmere sweater tightened around his broad shoulders as he leant forward to grab a particular brick. The familiar heat surged.
Stop it.
She tore her eyes away from him.
She’d wanted Lukas to bond with Nico, but she did not need to bond with him too. The hot, focused look he’d given her before Nico had barrelled into him had been enough to prove to her she needed to keep her distance today.