Page 42 of Finding the One (River Rain #7)

He put the dress away and took his phone with him as he moved toward the door of the bedroom, saying to Blake, “All sorted.”

She had her hair down again but was bunching it up when he passed. “Thanks, honey.”

The hair thing made him halt.

“Stop fretting,” he ordered. “She’s going to like ye.”

She turned to him and the anxiety was no longer hidden.

Bloody hell.

His sweet girl.

He went to her, kissed her nose, her forehead, then her mouth before he pulled back a wee bit and reiterated, “She’s going to like ye.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

He winked at her and walked out.

He jogged down the steps of Helena’s—no, Blake’s—Belgravia townhome.

This place seemed more Blake than the stodgy, lived-in, but still attractive Treverton. It was all feminine, pale colors, mixed with creams and ivories, and it was more modern, elegant and sophisticated.

He moved into the lounge on the first floor (she couldn’t hand him shite about his townhouse now, seeing as the bedrooms in this one were on the second floor too), which was just all creams and ivories. Once there, he went to the French doors that led out to a narrow balcony.

He made his call and looked out the windows at the park across the street.

His father answered after one ring.

“Dair.”

“Dad.”

“Where are ye?”

“London. I’ve a match to call tomorrow.”

“When are ye back in Edinburgh?”

He didn’t want to tell the man this, but to move things along, he said it anyway. “Sunday.”

“We’ll arrange to meet for lunch Monday. My office.”

Dair took in a deep breath and let it out before he said, “I’m not ready for that yet.”

“Dair—”

“Still pissed at you that ye had the gall to force yourself on Mum and Davina at the funeral.”

“Son—”

“The funeral of your dead lover,” he went on.

“Listen to me?—”

“So you’re going to have to give me time.”

“I need?—”

“And I’ll be asking ye to leave it with Mum and Davi too. When they’re ready, they’ll tell you.”

“This isn’t about Helena or what’s happening with your mum and me. This is about Signe.”

His head jerked. “Signe?”

“She’s causing some problems.”

“What problems?”

“The podcasts?—”

“I know about those and she’s not saying anything she’s not allowed to say.”

“She has a TikTok channel with not a small amount of followers and a lot to say.”

Fucking hell.

“What’s she saying?”

“She does makeup and style stuff and tells people what to eat. But lately, quite a number of her videos have been waxing poetic about the two of you and sharing pictures of you and her in your beginning.”

Dair was not a dick pic kind of man, and didn’t like men who were.

He was also tactile, not visual.

He could appreciate a sexy nightie, and he appreciated all of Blake’s, but he’d rather be touching her, kissing her and fucking her than admiring her nightie.

Though, he’d enjoy the build up tonight, watching her in that outfit.

So he didn’t have any pictures or videos that Signe could share that would be an issue.

Of course, their more intimate moments, private times that were just the two of them and were none of anyone’s business.

But there wouldn’t be anything embarrassing in those.

“I’d have to reread the NDA, but I’m not certain that breaks it,” he noted.

“Och, aye, it does, son.”

Fuck.

“I read it after it was drafted,” his father continued. “I helped finalize it. And I’ve recently reread it. She needs a cease-and-desist letter sent to her.”

“Let her haver, Dad. Nothing is going to come of it.”

“What she’s sharing is none of anyone’s business.”

“Agreed, but I could have my solicitors send that letter, she could put that out there too. Give people the impression I have something to hide. Give them the impression I give a shite about what she’s up to, when I dinnae.”

“Would ye allow me to talk to the firm and see what we can do that will be discreet?”

“It’s a waste of time.”

“They’re on retainer. I pay them for the privilege of wasting their time.”

Dair had not forgotten his father was private and protective.

He was both of these in good ways. Dair had always appreciated it, especially when he started to get attention when he’d begun his career as a professional athlete.

Balfour Wallace had been supportive, always had time for his son (furthermore, rarely ever missed a match) and was thoughtful in sharing his wisdom which, back then, Dair had always accepted gratefully.

This had meant that, outside the situation with Signe, Dair hadn’t made a misstep in his career, and partly because of that, he had one after he retired.

It seemed both he and Blake were dealing with conflicting emotions when it came to a parent.

It was just that Dair’s was alive and breathing.

“If ye want to do that, do it. But I dinnae want Signe approached unless I sign off on it,” Dair warned.

“Done. Now about lunch Monday…”

Fuck it.

He had to deal with this, he might as well just deal with it.

“Make it Wednesday. I’ll have things I need to see to after being away.”

“That’s a better idea. We’ll have had time to see where we are with Signe and we can discuss it. My office. Where we can talk privately.”

“Fine.”

He sensed he wasn’t alone, turned and saw Rix and Alex walking in.

Alex had makeup on, just not much. She was also wearing a matching black and cream striped skirt and top made of jumper material with boots, which was lovely but easy. Her curly, auburn hair was unbound.

And there was color to her cheeks and a lazy look in her eyes that told him she hadn’t spent the last hour fussing over her hair and what she was going to wear, but instead, getting into certain activities with her husband.

He knew this because Rix had that same lazy look in his eyes.

Ned had left several hours ago to pick up Marlo from the airport and have some time with her.

“I’ve got to go, Dad. We have dinner plans,” Dair said into the phone.

“Right, son. I’ll see you. Noon. Wednesday.”

Shite.

“See you then.”

His father’s voice was thick when he said, “Miss you, son.”

He didn’t want to be an arse, but, fuck that in this situation.

“Bye, Dad.”

With that, he rang off.

“Blake’s not here?” Alex asked when Dair tucked the phone in the inside pocket of his blazer.

“She’s redone her hair three times so far,” Dair told her.

Alex smiled fondly.

Rix walked out of the room and could be heard shouting in the hall, “Blake! Get your ass down here! The car your dad sent was here five minutes ago!”

“It wasn’t, we just got the text right before we came down,” Alex confessed to Dair.

He smiled at her.

“Coming, coming!” they heard Blake call and then she was in the room, fiddling with a lightweight gold trench coat that looked like it was made from silk, and wearing the outfit Dair had selected for her.

The side of the top where the twist was meant that it exposed all of one shoulder and part of her collarbone, and the hint of skin at her middle was sexy as all fuck.

He’d chosen well.

Most of her hair was in curls tumbling over her shoulders, but the top was in a messy bunch at the back.

She’d chosen well too.

He approached her and took her coat. He shook it out for her, and she gave him a grateful smile before she turned her back to him, and he helped her put it on.

“Ready?” Rix asked.

“Ready,” Dair said.

They walked down to the car.

This dinner was not going well.

Marlo Winslet was an exceptionally attractive woman who looked maybe five years older than Blake. Then again, Ned looked fifteen years younger than he actually was.

But Marlo’s casual confidence, and the fact she was obviously well-read, well-traveled, well-educated, enjoyed life, was driven and had an edgy, sexy style that reminded him of Blake, but Marlo wore it like a second skin, shared she was likely quite a bit older.

She had a heavy fringe that teased her eyes and long hair that was light brown with loads of blond streaks in.

And she clearly thought the world of Ned.

If there were fireworks due to her not being invited to Alex’s wedding, they were over now. It was unmistakable they knew each other well, very much enjoyed each other’s company…

And were very much in love.

Dair was pleased as fuck for Ned. She seemed the perfect woman for him.

But they were through cocktails, starters and on their mains, and conversation was stilted, when it was there to be had, and this mostly came from Ned, Rix, Dair and Marlo.

Alex was naturally quiet.

Dair had no idea what the fuck was up with Blake.

Visions of Signe’s competitiveness with her “friends” stormed through his head, what with Marlo being a woman Blake might feel in competition with.

And just by virtue of the fact her maturity led her to be more comfortable in her skin, she might win it.

Therefore, Blake would be pissed off about it.

And he was not liking that at all.

He was about to do something, nudge her foot, squeeze her thigh, when Rix spoke up.

“Right, Alex isn’t the talkative type, so don’t take any offense to her not gabbing it up,” he announced.

“She’s hell on wheels with listening. And Blake’s nervous.

Dair said she did her hair at least three times before we left the house.

She’s been dying to meet you and gave Ned hell we didn’t do it at our wedding.

Now we see you, and you’re all class and shit, and this is obviously more serious than we thought, when we knew it was serious.

So both Ned’s girls are freaking out. Silently.

Don’t hold it against them. They’ll snap out of it soon enough. ”

Dair couldn’t help but like the guy, and his brutal honesty and ability to communicate it without being an arsehole was part of why he did.

After he spoke, everyone started laughing, including Marlo, who seemed visibly relieved by this explanation.

Aye.

The dinner had gone that way, and it was not a good way.

“Is that an Ala?a blouse?” Blake asked Marlo.

“Good eye,” Marlo replied.

“It’s scrumptious,” Blake oozed.