Awink? Just who does he think he is? I close the door and let myself exhale, long and slow, willing the flutter in my stomach to bugger off.
“Mummy, Isla’s really nice,” Lily says, tugging on my top.
“Mmm.”
“Can she come around again?”
“Maybe.”
Lily sighs. “That means no.”
“It means maybe, Lily. Now, come on, let’s get you some supper.”
As I lead Lily into the kitchen, I shake away the memory of how easily Struan held me, like I weighed nothing at all. Because I’ve got no business thinking about that. I didn’t come here to fall into the arms of my next-door neighbour.
Even if I’ve somehow managed to do it twice in one day.
CHAPTER FOUR
STRUAN
The sound hits me before I even open the salon door—high-pitched wailing mixed with words I can’t quite make out. I pause, hand on the handle, wondering if I should come back in five minutes. But then I hear Ainsley’s voice, stretched thin as wire, and curiosity wins.
I push inside to find Lily flat on her back on the floor, face tomato-red, fists balled at her sides. Full-blown tantrum mode. Ainsley’s crouched beside her in fitted jeans that do excellent things for her arse—not that I’m looking—trying to reason with a four-year-old who’s gone nuclear.
“Lily, nursery lunch is lovely. It’s baked potatoes today. You like potatoes.”
“No! They’re yucky!” Lily’s legs kick against the floor. “I want a packed lunch!”
“I’ve not had time to do a proper shop. We’ve only just moved in, remember? I promise I’ll get you a packed lunch sorted for tomo?—”
“I want it TODAY!”
Ainsley’s shoulders slump. Then she glances behind her and spots me in the doorway. For a second I see it all—theexhaustion, the frustration, the embarrassment. Then her walls slam back up, shoulders tightening, chin lifting.
“Oh, Struan.” She straightens. “Sorry about this. We’ll be out of your way in a minute. I need to drop this one off at nursery.”
I set down my toolbox and crouch down by Lily. “Hey there, Lily. What’s all this about?”
Ainsley stiffens—a flicker of tension I can’t quite read.
“I don’t have a packed lunch and nursery lunch ishorrible,” Lily announces, still lying flat on her back, delivering her grievances to the ceiling.
“Oh dear, now thatisa problem,” I say, keeping my tone gentle. I unzip my rucksack and pull out my lunch bag. “Tell you what, how about you have mine? It’s just a cheese sandwich, nothing fancy. Oh, and an apple too.”
Lily sits up so fast she nearly headbutts me. “Really?”
“Course.”
She snatches the bag out of my hand before I can change my mind, then peers inside like it contains treasure. “Mmm! This is a good lunch!”
I glance at Ainsley. She’s staring at me, lips slightly parted in... relief? Or annoyance? Hard to tell with her. She’s a puzzle I haven’t worked out yet. Whatever it is, she quickly schools her expression, forcing on a polite smile—all surface, no warmth. “Lily, what do you say to Struan?”
“Thank you, Stwuan!” Lily beams up at me, tears already drying on her cheeks. Crisis averted, just like that.
I stand, and Ainsley smooths down her top—that same nervous gesture from the other day. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says.
“It’s just a sandwich.” I shrug. “I can pick myself up something from the Lighthouse Café instead.”
