Tonight, I’d like to share my bed with someone. Fall asleep in a man’s arms. Again.
Not just any man.
Ronan.
I’ll get it out of my system once and for all and then be on my merry way, with my merry new single mother book and no one will ever know. Child free, in a remote setting, with stunning scenery. I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried.
I’m starting to wonder if I’ve had Ronan all wrong.
He didn’t hesitate to help. He’s great with the girls. Great with me. He’s as close to Mr Right as they get. Which is precisely why he is wrong for me.
I’m not looking for Mr Anything, let alone a relationship.
I don’t want to date you. I want to fuck you.
That, Ronan, I might just be able to do.
Though it’s been a while. I hope I remember how.
I grab a white cardigan, sling my bag over my shoulder, and creep into Isla’s room. She’s sprawled width ways across the bed, her glossy hair splayed across her purple bedspread. Her dark eyelashes flutter in her sleep. I know I’m biased, but my God, she’s beautiful. There’s no love like my love for my daughter in the world.
‘I love you, princess. I’ll be home tomorrow,’ I promise, even though she can’t hear me.
I tiptoe into Eden’s room to check on her. She’s nestled below her duvet with her favourite stuffed animal tucked into her chest. She’s just as stunning as her sister, but even in sleep, her features are set in a much more solemn expression, but her breathing is deep and even and peaceful.
Out of both my daughters, I worry more about Eden.
Is her desire to be good all the time because of something I’ve done? Or is she naturally a rule abider, where Isla isnaturally a rebel? It’s a relief that Eden is so easy to manage, but maybe she’s not expressing herself the way a six-year-old should.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I had a partner to bounce these things off.
The sound of a car engine outside alerts me to Ronan’s return.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ I double-check with Shona, who’s watching reruns of Friends on my couch, and sipping from a can of Diet Coke. ‘Ashley won’t be long, I promise.’
‘It’s fine, Savannah. Don’t worry,’ she assures me. At least if there is a problem, her mother is only down the road.
It’s hard to relinquish control when I’m used to doing everything myself, but walking out of the door is also selfishly liberating.
Ronan opens the passenger door for me, the scent of his cologne stealing my senses.
‘You all set?’ His dark blue eyes are dazzling, even in the dusk.
‘As I’ll ever be.’ I hope the flooding isn’t too serious. The one in my panties is bad enough.
‘I got some supplies.’ His lips curl, but he keeps his gaze on the road ahead.
‘Hmm. Do I even want to know?’ I mutter, but a thrill rips down my spine.
‘Just covering all the bases. These Saturday nights are becoming a regular occurrence,’ he muses, changing lanes as we hit the motorway.
‘They are, aren’t they…’
His hand falls from the steering wheel to my bare thigh. Feather-light fingers brush over my skin and I gasp. ‘Am I allowed to touch you tonight, Savannah?’ His voice is deep and gritty, weighted with the same need that curls around my core.
‘We’ll see.’ I glance pointedly at where his fingers continue to tease me, but I don’t ask him to remove them.
‘How are the girls?’ he asks.
