He falls into step with me. “You’re fond of lost puppies.”
I can feel his eyes on the top of my head. Only the pretty ones, I almost say. “Only the ones that don’t try to hump my legs.”
He laughs, and I take the opportunity to give in to my own little sigh. Pretty Van. Pretty annoying Van. But I’d forgotten how he can also be kind.
“Speaking of puppies, I still have her, you know? The Labrador. She’s an old girl now but still lovely.”
“Did she ever grow into her ears?” The warmth in his tone makes my heart sigh.
“Yes.” I nod but don’t glance his way. “Thank you,” I add, tightening my hand on his arm. We slow to a stop, turning to look at each other. “For Hugh. You didn’t need to, and I wouldn’t like to think—” I’m not sure how I’m going to finish this, so it’s perhaps just as well to find his finger pressed to my lips.
“I know what it is to be disappointed by a father figure. There is no ulterior motive.” His brow reflects his thoughts, or maybe he just reads mine as I remember how he hurt me in such different circumstances. “I can be trusted. I’m not the person I was.”
“Which of us is?” I answer, refusing to become embroiled. “So,” I add, changing the subject. “Who gets to tell Sandy about your day out?”
“I’ll leave that to you.” A smile curls through his words. “Bad news is always better delivered with a little sweetness.”
“You’re too kind.” Sandy really hates football, but that’s not why my laughter sounds forced. The way he’s looking at me? No other man has ever looked at me this way. Never made me feel like the center of the universe. Even if it was only for a little while. He reaches out, his finger twirling away a wisp of my hair from my temple.
“Such hair,” he whispers. His hand retracts, his thumb deliberately caressing my cheek. I catch it between my own, lest it wander anywhere else. Or that’s what I tell myself.
“How come you didn’t have children? Didn’t you want to settle down?”
“I was never the settling down type.” His deep voice brims with regret. “And I ruined the chance I had with the one woman who could make me happy.”
“Don’t.” I whisper this into the back of his hand, then step away from him. “Again, thank you for Hugh, but you really don’t have to.”
“Can I want to?”
“Yes, but not for the wrong reasons.”
He tips his head. “Message received.”
“If you’ll excuse me.” I half turn. “I have to get back to the boys. Cajole them into bed.”
He sighs. “Oh, to be a boy.”
“Take the first left at the end of the hallway.” I won’t be drawn. I can’t allow it. Not outwardly, at least. Internally is another pulsing thing altogether. “Down a half flight of stairs, your room is on the right.” Literally the farthest room away from mine. Intentionally.
“Then I’ll wish you… good night.”
“Night, Van.” I turn fully. “See you at breakfast.”
“I can’t wait. I already feel quite ravenous.”
I don’t turn back despite feeling the weight of his want and his eyes. It won’t be the gray lady who haunts me tonight. It’ll be the lure of him.
13
Van
“This feels like déjà vu.” My words are deliberately lazy as I push up onto my elbow. The mattress gives a little and the sheet pools low across my hips.
“Don’t spoil things, Niko.” Her back to me, Isla’s answer is soft and sounds unconcerned, but the way she clutches the dress to the flare of her hips contradicts. Just like last night when she turned up at my door, her mouth full of denials, her eyes full of want. But what’s important is she came, as I knew she would. What we have is like the tide of time. Impossible to resist.
I sigh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was a habit of yours. Skulking out of a man’s bed in the dead of night. Each time, stealing away with a little more of his heart.”
The brief pause betrays the careful selection of her words as she ignores the easy bait. That I lack a heart.
“How do you know it isn’t?” Her voice is as carefully careless as my own as she continues the sinuous slide of silk over skin. “I might be breaking hearts everywhere.”
I tip my gaze to the shadowed ceiling. I feel old. This game we play is getting old. Pretending we weren’t meant for each other, perhaps even more suited the second time around. Why else would she be here tonight? Because she wanted to fuck, echoes an insidious voice in my head. Whatever brought her here, I rejoice for it. I can fuck her, fuck her well, if that’s what it takes to steal back her heart. I might not have been her first, but I swear to God I’ll be her best and her last in all things.