Page 92 of Filthy Rich Temptation

We spring apart.

Two faces stare at us through the open French doors. Lottie smothers her mouth, half-giggling, half-grossed out, while Isla’s eyes twinkle bright.

‘Well, well, well…’ she says, sounding more Welsh than ever, one hand in Lottie’s, the other cradling a basket brimming with eggs as they walk on in. ‘Not sure whether I should tell the pair of you to wash your mouth out with soap or hose you down with cold water.’

‘Soap?’ Lottie scrunches up her face, looking properly disgusted now, and we all laugh.

‘Either way,’ Isla says, ‘it looks to me like you’ve already had your fill for breakfast.’

‘I don’t know about that, Mrs P,’ Theo says, his arm still deliciously hot and possessive around my waist. ‘I think I’m going to need the fuel.’

My eyes flare wide, my heart somersaulting as I kick him in the shin.

NowI’mthe one turning crimson.

Isla chuckles all the more. ‘Hear that, Lottie? Our efforts won’t go to waste. Now hop up here and get those hands washed, you’re on chef duty with me.’

I watch them, Isla’s arm slipping easily around Lottie’s tiny shoulders, guiding her towards the sink like they’ve done this a dozen times before. And just like that, my daughter’s giggling, caught in the glow of someone who sees her, includes her, practically loves her already.

A lump catches in my throat before I can swallow it. Danny’s parents were long gone before I met him. I know nothing about them… except what they raised. Not that I blame them. I blamehim.

But still, Lottie’s never known a grandparent. Never had anyone of that generation spoil her in that way, just because…

Theo’s voice comes soft beside me. ‘Hey, you okay?’

I nod quickly, dashing an escaped tear from my cheek with the back of my hand and smiling wide. ‘Yeah… Isla’s amazing with her.’

‘She should be,’ he murmurs, his hand caressing my side, gifting me the comfort I haven’t asked for, but he knows I need. ‘She’s got ten grandkids of her own. Most of them local. She splits her time between here and helping out with them.’ He pauses, adding for my ears only, ‘Her husband passed away not long before she came to work for me. She wanted something to help keep her busy. A new environment to be in.’

The ache in his words reflects something deeper. I know what he’s thinking: his dad, the void, filling it with work. Our grief may be shaped differently, but it echoes just the same.

I intertwine my fingers with his against my side, press my other hand over the top.

‘So Lottie,’ he calls out, ‘you fancy going to the beach after breakfast?’

I think even the cows in the next field heard her answer…

* * *

Theo

‘Not so far ahead, darling!’ Sadie hollers, a half-laugh in her voice as Lottie tears across the beach, her tiny feet kicking up wet sand. The kite I bought her – a blaze of colour – whips through the sky like it’s got somewhere better to be.

Though I’m pretty sure nowhere on earth could beat this right now.

‘It’s f’ying, Mummy!’ she shrieks with joy, her little legs pumping like she could catch the clouds. ‘It’s f’ying!’

‘She’ll be all right,’ I murmur, the sight tugging at my chest. ‘Gotta let her be a kid. It’s why we’re here, to let her run wild, right?’

And the rest, my head unhelpfully supplies. But I won’t let the guilt set in. Not when they’re so happy, and itfeelsthis right.

‘Yeah.’

Sadie’s smile lingers on Lottie, her blue eyes bright and alive, her hair a chaotic tumble of waves… She looks every inch the mum on holiday. Or a woman who spent the night…and don’t go there. Not if you want to avoid sporting a semi in public!

A cheer goes up from a group of lads mid-footie match, and I reach instinctively for her hand. But her smile doesn’t waver.

A dog skirts by, close, barking. Not even a flinch.