“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.
