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He hated it that he even cared.
Sadie expertly deflected the ball from Sol. Quin realised she was good. Sol was in heaven with such a worthy adversary, trying to get the ball back, and Quin could see the exact moment when she feigned missing it so that Sol could get it and shoot for the goal. He jumped up and down with glee and Sadie caught him around the waist and lifted him up. The two heads were close together, strawberry-blonde.
And suddenly it was too much—last night and now this.
Quin called out from the open door, ‘Sol, time to clean up for dinner.’
Sadie turned around with Sol still in her arms and the two sets of aquamarine eyes hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut, compounding the sense of exposure he felt at having indulged in his lust for Sadie last night. And the way she’d dominated his thoughts all day.
He still didn’t even know what her agenda was. Or why she’d walked out four years ago.
You didn’t give her a chance to talk last night, reminded a little voice.
It made him call out again with uncharacteristic sharpness, ‘Sol,now. I won’t ask again.’
Sol slid down from Sadie’s arms and came inside, looking at Quin warily, making him feel about two inches tall. He rarely, if ever, spoke harshly to his son.
He looked at Sadie and felt the impulse to blame her—but that wasn’t fair either, in spite of everything.
She said, ‘Sorry, that was probably my fault. I didn’t realise how much time had passed.’
She had dirt on the knees of her jeans, and Quin could see a streak across one cheek. He couldn’t imagine any of the kind of women he met now allowing themselves to get so dishevelled. But Sadie had never been concerned with her appearance—except for that weird habit she’d had, insisting on dyeing her hair once a month.
He’d asked her once, ‘Why do you bother?’
If anything, it had only made her look more pale, and there was no reason to do it that he’d been able to understand.
She’d said, ‘It’s the weirdest thing, and I can’t explain it, but I feel safer if I do it...’
Because of her memory loss they’d both put things like this down to quirks that might one day be explained.
He pushed the past back and said, ‘It’s fine.’ And then, ‘You should probably wash too...before dinner.’
Sadie put a hand to her face and blushed. She still blushed.
She said, ‘Of course. But I just need to finish a couple of jobs first.’
She’d walked by Quin into the house before he could stop her, trailing her tantalising scent behind her—earth and roses and citrus. Clean, innocent...
Irritation and frustration prickled over and under Quin’s skin at so many different things that before he could expose himself any more he set off to check on Sol—who was his priority above anything else. Or anyoneelse. Especially her.
Sadie was left in no doubt that Quin deeply regretted what had happened the previous night. The look he’d given her when he’d found her playing football with Sol had almost cut her in half.
Maybe she shouldn’t have indulged in playing with her son, but when he’d come home from school with Lena he’d asked if she could play football with him. She’d explained regretfully that she still had some housework to do, but Lena had pooh-poohed that and told Sol to get changed into his kit.
Sadie couldn’t feel sorry, though, because the last couple of hours had healed so much of the hurt and pain she’d endured. Her little boy was a joy. Sunny and mischievous and kind and funny. More than she’d even imagined he could be. Talking non-stop, endlessly curious...
Now Sadie quickly finished up what she’d been doing—sorting clothes in the laundry—and went back out to the main living-dining area, steeling herself in case she bumped into Quin and his disapproving expression again.
But Roberto was there, smiling. ‘Dinner will be ready in a short while.’
Sadie’s heartstrings were plucked. She’d love to spend more time with Sol, but she knew when she wasn’t welcome. Sol had been away last night, and no doubt Quin would want to have him to himself.
She forced a smile. ‘Thank you so much, but I’ll eat in the guesthouse this evening.’
Roberto remonstrated with her, but Sadie insisted. However, he wouldn’t let her go without giving her a portion of his stew in a Tupperware container. Sadie took it, touched again by his and Lena’s kindness.
Before Sol had come back down earlier, still in his football kit, Sadie had said, ‘I hope I’m not intruding too much on your routine with Sol?’