For some stupid reason, tears pricked my eyes. “My bestest buds in the entire world—you and Lewis. Promise. No one is replacing your spot as my besties.”
Eilidh side-eyed her brother. “I’m your bestest best friend. Lew is your best friend.” She looked back at me now that she’d asserted herself at the top of my priority list. “Daddy is your other best friend. So that man can only be a friend friend. Okay?”
Lewis scowled ferociously out the window.
Oh, boy.
I really shouldn’t let Eilidh think she had authority over my friendships, but that knot in my stomach tightened at her mention of Thane. The children were starting to see us as a unit. And if the last few minutes were anything to go by, they were territorial about that unit.
Which meant they were too young to understand the imaginary lines drawn in the sand between “nanny” and “family.” It didn’t help if the two adults kept blurring those lines.
I shouldn’t have come today.
That is it, I decided as Thane started the car. No more spending weekend day trips with them. It wasn’t fair to the children in the end.
Eilidh had a short attention span and started talking about how hungry she was again. Considering it was past lunchtime and they’d only had a scone and cake, Thane promised we’d stop in at Morag’s to see if she had any sandwiches left.
Morag, the bubbly, pink-haired owner, was delighted to see the Adair kids. She brought them behind her chilled counter to help her make their sandwiches. Thane and I stood in a weirdly tense silence, watching.
Then I asked just loud enough for him to hear me, “Have you heard any more from that McClintock guy?”
“No,” Thane replied just as quietly. “I think my message got through.”
Yeah, I wouldn’t want to mess with Thane Adair while he was in scary, protective Dad mode. “Good.”
A few seconds passed. “Jared McCulloch. Really?”
At his sneering tone, I stiffened. “What does that mean?”
“It means”—he turned to me, his eyes glinting with hard irritation—“I already warned you he’s slept with every woman from here to Inverness.”
“I’m not looking for marriage, Thane. I just gave the guy my number.”
A growling sound rumbled from the back of his throat. “You’re better than that.”
My spine straightened. “Better than what?”
“Casual sex with a most likely disease-ridden farmer.”
I gaped at him. He sounded like a pretentious, elitist prick. “You don’t think he’s good enough?”
“No, he’s not,” he hissed, leaning too close. “And not because he’s a farmer but because he’s a silly wee fuck boy.” His eyes darkened to smoke. “Definitely not the man you said you wanted.”
Was he jealous?
After the angst we’d just been through and promised to get over, he was dragging us back into it. Robyn was right. I so wanted to junk-punch him. Shaking my head in disbelief, I walked away before I said something I’d regret. “I’ll wait in the car.”
THANE
Watching Eilidh fall asleep in her bed, Thane stood and finally allowed himself to think about what the hell he was doing. As he walked quietly from her room toward Lewis’s, he berated himself for how the afternoon had turned out.
After his discussion with Regan this morning, he was the one who had thrown out the mixed signals again. But every time he thought he had a handle on his attraction, some little thing pushed him over the edge. The way she was with Eilidh and Lewis, always taking care of them, consciously and subconsciously, proving they were constantly on her mind.
What father wouldn’t appreciate that in a woman?
Her thoughtfulness at the falconry display, realizing he was looking forward to sharing that with Lewis. And teaching Eilidh to be considerate, teaching her that some things would not be about her so that she realized as she got older, if she loved her family, she’d be content with putting them first when needed.
And Regan’s sense of humor and how Eilidh had only gotten wittier since Regan had come along. Learning from her in ways Thane didn’t mind at all.
The way Lewis was opening up from that serious, shy boy he’d been before her arrival. How much happier he seemed.
Then there were the things he noticed as a man.
The way he and Regan looked at each other and seemed to know exactly what the other was thinking.
The way her body was aware of him, how her back slightly arched whenever he got too close, causing her breasts to push up, her arse to push out. She didn’t even realize she was doing it, the movement was so subtle. But Thane was aware. Aware of the way her eyes dropped to his mouth as often as his lowered to hers.
He wanted her.
Even knowing how wrong it was, how complicated, how it would be construed by everyone else as something sordid and indecent, Thane wanted Regan Penhaligon, and he didn’t know how to make it stop without pushing her out of their lives completely.
And he’d been seething with jealousy ever since Eilidh let it out of the bag that Regan had given her number to Jared McCulloch.
Peeking into Lewis’s room, he was surprised to see his son’s light out. Lew was asleep. Usually, he waited for Thane to come and say good night.
That meant returning downstairs already.
To where Regan had insisted on cleaning up the kitchen after a night of showing him and the kids how to make homemade pizza to end their day of “celebrations.” It was so good, and the kids loved it so much, Thane was considering getting an outside pizza oven.
Of course, it would have been an even better night if Regan wasn’t so pissed off she couldn’t even talk to him. He knew Lewis had noticed because he’d grown quieter as the night wore on.
Damn it.
Reaching in to close his son’s door, Lewis’s voice stopped him.
“Dad.”
“Hey, bud, thought you were sleeping.” He crept into the room.
In the light spill from the hallway, Thane watched his son turn to look at him—and he was glowering.
Uh-oh.
“What is it, Lew?”
“Ree-Ree seems mad at you.”
Thane tensed. “We’re fine, buddy.”
“You were mad at her, and now she’s mad at you.”
Christ, his seven-year-old was too perceptive. “No, we’re good, Lew.”
His son glared harder. “She’s going to go away. And it’s your fault.” His voice broke as he buried his head in his pillow.
Oh, fucking hell. Rounding the bed, Thane sat down and placed a hand on Lewis’s shoulder. His son pushed his face deeper into the pillow.
“Lew, Regan and I are friends. She’s not going away. Not just yet. But you know, wee man, that she’s your nanny. She’s not part of the family,” he reminded him gently, even as each word caused an ache in his chest. “You have to be prepared for that.”
Lewis took a shuddering breath and turned to look at him. Thane’s heart broke at the sadness in his son’s eyes. “Why do people always have to leave?”
No, Thane was wrong. Now his heart fucking broke. He’d never wanted his children to have the childhood he had. To lose their mother.