‘A friend from my past. He’s also the owner of the security company,’ Thadie said, moving from the kitchen into the lounge. The boys hurled themselves at her and wrapped their arms around her thighs, each jostling for position. Over their heads, Thadie introduced the two men and watched them shake hands.
Then Jabu switched to English. ‘So, we were at the library, and they were having a talk on nature.’ He winced, just a little. ‘It was aimed at eight-to-ten-year-olds, on the oddities in animals, and they insisted on staying to listen.’
That sounded like something the boys would enjoy.
‘I hear we are all flying to Petit Frère tomorrow?’
Thadie blinked at Jabu’s change of subject. ‘Yes. It will be good for all of us to get away,’ Thadie replied.
Jabu agreed, hugged the boys and told her he’d see her tomorrow. Thadie closed the door behind him, and her eyes darted from Angus’s rough-hewn face to her babies. They both had his eyes, bright against their creamy, light brown skins. Finn, whose features were rougher than Gus’s, looked the most like him.
Thadie took a deep breath. ‘Guys, this is a friend of mine. His name is Angus Docherty.’
Their sweet faces lifted to inspect Angus, two sets of eyes alight with curiosity. ‘You’re tall,’ Gus told him, in his let-no-thought-be-left-unspoken way.
‘Your name is like Gus’s,’ Finn commented and Thadie stared at him, astounded. She couldn’t believe he’d made the connection between Angus’s name and his twin’s. Finnsometimes frightened her with his big brain, and this was one of those times.
‘Our names are a little alike,’ he agreed. His voice sounded normal, but Thadie saw the strain in his eyes, the tension in his big shoulders. Acting normal in front of the twins had to be difficult but she appreciated him making the effort. ‘And yes, I’m tall.’
‘Uncle Micah says that we’re going to be taller than him,’ Gus boasted. ‘Uncle Micah is very tall!’
‘I’m sure you both will be big guys. So, I heard you went to the library. How was that?’ Angus asked, surprising her by engaging with the boys. It was obvious he had no experience with kids, but he was trying.
Gus’s eyes widened as he hopped from foot to foot in excitement. ‘Did you know that there’s a lizard that can shoot blood from its eyes?’
‘I didn’t,’ Angus replied. ‘What else did you learn?’
‘Cockroaches can live for a week without their heads,’ Finn replied. He looked bewildered. ‘I want to know how.’
Thadie winced. The boys were at the age where anything gross fascinated them, and they were sure to recount every bit of new knowledge they’d heard.
She saw amusement in Angus’s eyes. ‘Maybe your mum could help you look that one up on the Internet,’ he told Finn.
Great, Finn would now badger her until they did exactly that. She did not want, or need, to know anything about cockroaches!
Gus wiggled, excited. ‘And moths, no...flutterbies...’
‘Butterflies?’ Angus suggested.
Gus nodded, his eyes wide, about to impart information of great importance. ‘Flutterbies taste with their feet!’
At Angus’s laughter—rich, dark and sexy enough to scatter goosebumps on her skin—the twins were off and running,demanding Angus inspect their playroom and help them build a fort from old blankets.
Well, he’d said that he wanted to get to know them...
The floor-to-ceiling doors leading onto the entertainment deck were open and Angus was grateful for the cooling breeze. Thadie was somewhere in the huge house, bathing and putting the boys to bed. He sat on the edge of her leather couch and stared down at the intricate patterns of the Persian carpet under his feet. He had survived SAS training, had been pinned under enemy fire, taking a damned bullet to his thigh...
But he had never felt this unsettled. This wasn’t something he’d trained for, knew how to handle. He’d had a commanding officer instead of a father and he had no idea how to be a dad.
It was strange to think that his father could be an incredible commanding officer but a completely useless parent. His mother hadn’t been great either, to be honest. But up until his mid-twenties, he’d made excuses for them, and told himself he was overreacting.
Then he’d got shot. While recovering he’d made the incredibly hard decision to leave the army, thinking that if he couldn’t stay with his unit, being on the ground, then he wanted out. He’d thought his dad would understand why: if he couldn’t do what he most loved, he had to leave.
Instead of providing understanding and support, The General had verbally assaulted him and disparaged his feelings and fears. He’d been mocked and dismissed. Instead of supporting him, his mum had sided with The General, telling him his father knew best.
Getting shot hurt, but the people who were supposed to love him the most had eviscerated him. Up until then, he’d been leery of love and commitment, unimpressed by the concept, buttheir response and lack of support had resulted in him vowing to avoid all emotional ties and bonds. It was better, safer, and less messy.
He’d lost his family over a decade ago, but he’d gained two sons today. Holy hell. Angus looked at his trembling hands and swallowed, then swallowed again. He felt disorientated, as if the world had slid off its axis and was hurtling into space.