Not what, precisely? The complicated, tortuous existence of Laurel and Dan?
He shied his mind away. Right now he had only one focus: seeing his son again. Within the hour he was parked at the cottage, vaulting out of the car. He’d scarcely shut the driver’s door before Dan came hurtling out of the house.
“Dad! Dad!” he called, face alight.
He ran up to Xander, and Xander caught him up. Bear-hugged him, emotion pouring through him. It was a good feeling. A very good feeling.
He set Dan back, keeping an arm around his shoulder as they walked up to the front door. Laurel was standing there. She was wearing jeans and a baggy sweater, her hair knotted, and she wore not a scrap of make-up. Her usual nothing look.
But something kicked through Xander. Something that shouldn’t be there. Something he had killed off seven years ago.
But which now, as his eyes went to her, was there again.
However much he might wish to God it wasn’t.
Laurel forced herself to look at Dan, but it was too late. One glance at Xander had done it, one single glance. All day, with him expected back from Greece, she had been schooling herself. She must not react to him; she must only be composed, neutral, keeping to their carefully agreed cessation of hostilities.
But as her eyes went to him as he strolled towards the open front door, his arm around Dan’s shoulders, she felt her resolve vanish. For seven days she hadn’t seen Xander. Now he was here again. Right in front of her.
Lean, and lithe, and lethal.
She fought for composure, silencing the reaction to seeing him again. The stupid, pointless, totally unwelcome and unwanted reaction to him. How could it be otherwise? Given everything that had parted them.
Yet for all her arguments, all her intentions, she could feel her pulse quicken as she stood aside in the narrow hallway. He greeted her civilly, and she returned in kind, then Dan was tugging at him to come upstairs.
“I’ve built more of my garage!” Dan was exclaiming now. “Come and see!”
Laurel watched them head upstairs, then went back into the kitchen. Dan had asked for mac and cheese again for tea, so she set about making the cheese sauce, getting the pasta cooking. Telling herself what she needed to do, to be.
I need to be calm, composed. Civil and polite, nothing else. No ridiculous gazing at him, letting my heart rate jump. Because there’s nothing left between us, and even if there were, there shouldn’t be. Mustn’t be.
Brave words, but keeping to them was going to be a challenge.
She gave a sigh, grated cheese into the sauce, mixed in the cooked pasta, then set it to crisp under the grill while she fixed a green salad to go with it. She’d ventured out, cautiously, several times during the week with Dan in the car—a smart, brand new automatic hatchback Xander had ordered for her—and restocked on groceries.
Xander asked how it had gone as they all sat down to mac and cheese.
“I’ve had to get used to driving again,” she admitted.
“She’s getting better at it, Dad,” Dan said reassuringly, man to man.
Xander’s mouth tugged in a half smile. “Let’s put her through her paces tomorrow, shall we? See if she crashes us!”
Dan chortled, and Laurel said with humorous tartness, “No, thank you!”
For a second, her eyes met Xander’s, then she pulled them away. “So, what are your plans now you’re back?” she asked instead, civilly and politely.
“It’s Easter here the weekend after this,” Xander replied. He looked at Dan. “In Greece, Easter is celebrated later, and I’ll be going back for it, so we’ll make sure we celebrate your Easter here first.”
Dan’s eyes brightened. “Easter eggs!” he announced happily.
“Yes, indeed,” Xander said dryly, and yet again, his eyes met Laurel’s for a moment.
“Mum gives me a small one before Easter, but then after it’s over we go and buy one of the leftover ones because they’re cheaper then, so we can have a bigger one,” Dan explained artlessly.
Laurel saw Xander’s face tighten. “Well, now you can have a big one before Easter,” he said. “From me.”
Dan’s face lit up. “Can I really, Dad?” he asked disbelievingly.
