“Of course,” she said.
She left him and Xander to it, and went into the kitchen, hearing a cry of glee as Xander got the box open and the contents displayed. Her heart squeezed. How could she resent Dan having such a lavish present? They’d pinched pennies all his young life, and he’d never complained or asked for what she could not afford. She busied herself putting on the kettle for a cup of tea, poured a diluted apple juice for Dan, then braved the fearsome-looking coffee machine that came with the house. A packet of expensive coffee pods also came with it. Xander would not welcome cheap instant coffee.
When she went back into the sitting room, drinks on a tray, Xander and Dan were hunkered down on the floor, getting stuck into the construction, their two dark heads close together. Laurel’s throat felt tight suddenly.
The construction kit was huge—a garage with a car lift, ramp, several floors, plus outbuildings, and came with four cars. Xander was closely examining the instructions. Laurel reckoned it would not be built in one go. Dan was passing pieces to Xander, discussing with him what went where. Silently, she handed Dan his juice, which he gulped down thirstily, then went back to his construction kit. Xander didn’t look up as she put his coffee down on a table near him. She took her cup of tea to the sofa, watching them. Those two dark heads together…
Father and son…
Her throat felt tight again.
Xander sat back. “I think this is a good place to stop,” he said. “We’ve made good progress, but we can’t build it all in one go. Let’s save the next bit for tomorrow, what do you say?”
Dan straightened. “Okay,” he agreed amenably. “It’s good, isn’t it?” he said admiringly at their joint handiwork.
“Very good,” Xander confirmed. He reached for his coffee, still hot. Black and unsweetened. The way he always drank it.
The way I did when she was with me—
Laurel had remembered his tastes it seemed. Without volition, his glance went to her. She was perched on the edge of the other sofa, elbows resting neatly on her knees, sipping at her tea. She looked very…demure.
That hadn’t been a word he’d associated with her during their time together—
Ardent…blazing…passionate…
No! He slammed his mind down hard. That was dangerous—far, far too dangerous. Deliberately he hardened his expression, hardened his thoughts. Whatever had happened seven years ago between them had ended. Now it was enough simply to bring himself to be even superficially civil to her, and that was only for his son’s sake. His gaze dropped to Dan, and the hardness vanished. He set aside his empty coffee mug.
“Let’s get all this upstairs,” he said, starting to gather up the unused pieces and putting them back in the box with the instructions.
Between himself and Dan they got everything up to his bedroom. There, half-completed garage safely in a corner, Xander looked around.
“You were reading this morning,” he said. “Will you read to me a bit? Show me what you can do?”
Dan nodded, fetching his early reading book. Xander settled himself down on the bed, inviting Dan to sit beside him, putting his arm around his shoulder. It felt good, very good, to have Dan snuggled against him. As he started to read out aloud, Xander felt an icy fury shaft through him.
I should have been able to hold him from the moment he was born! All through his babyhood, his infancy. She took that from me! Stole those precious years from me—
Bitterness filled him for the years he had lost with his own son.
Black anger against her.
Laurel had no idea whether Xander intended to stay for tea but put extra pasta on to boil anyway. She would make mac and cheese, one of Dan’s favourites. Whether Xander liked it or not, she didn’t give a damn. It hadn’t featured in Greece seven years ago.
She hauled her mind away. She would not, must not, let memory go back there, however hard it was to stop it, now that Xander was a physical presence in her life again, stirring up wayward, treacherous memories. If she remembered anything about that time it must only be the way it ended. Thrown off his yacht, denounced as a thief. Tears stinging her eyes that she should never, never have shed, because he hadn’t been worth a single, single tear…
Deliberately, she whipped up her old, familiar sense of outrage, fury. That was all Xander was worth. All he would ever be worth…
And whether he was her beloved son’s father, or whether he still had the same power to draw her eye as he had from the very, very first, did not change that an iota. Not a single iota.
The mac and cheese was good. Simple but tasty and filling. Xander cleared his plate.
“I’m for seconds, what about you, Dan?” he asked.
“Yes please!” Dan said enthusiastically.
Xander helped them both from the covered serving dish, then, out of politeness in front of his son, no consideration of her personally, glancing at Laurel. “You?” he said.
She shook her head.
