So he grunted.
“Here you are,” he heard Blake say from behind him.
He twisted to see she and Alex were entering the room.
Night and day, those two. Blake classically beautiful, slim, chic and outgoing, Alex with her abundance of red-brown curls, curves, no-nonsense attitude and quiet demeanor.
Alex was the perfect woman for Rix, as he was the perfect man for her.
Until just minutes ago, he would have felt sure in saying the same thing about he and Blake.
“God, you can still smell the smoke even if neither of them smoking,” Alex said.
Blake sat on the arm of his chair and smiled down at him. “I need to buy you some cigars.”
“Have some at home, lassie,” he told her.
That made her smile bigger.
“How was your date?” he asked.
But it was Alex who answered. “It took us a while, and we had a goal of five, and could only come up with four memories of Mum that were good without any bad attached.”
“We had to call Dad in to figure out number four,” Blake added. “But even with him there, we could only add that one.”
Four unblemished memories in a lifetime of mother and daughters?
Not good.
But Blake seemed lighter, so whatever worked.
“And heads up,” Alex announced. “Marlo is flying to London tomorrow. We’re meeting her for dinner.”
Dair studied Blake’s face.
No anxiety, she just looked excited.
The men finished their whiskies as they all chatted.
They then all went to bed.
The fuck he shared with Blake before they turned the lights out and settled in was no less intense and satisfying.
But even as his woman drifted right to sleep draped down his side, Dair stayed awake staring at the dark ceiling.
He’d read Signe wrong. The woman he fell in love with was nothing like the woman he found himself married to.
But if given a choice of only those two, he would take being married to a fame-hungry, gold-digging woman to being tied to another version of Helena Coddington-Sharp.
He’d make that choice every time.
He wanted nothing to do with a mean girl.
God damn.
Fuck.
Chapter 18
