Huh. Skylar’s husband hadn’t been Finlay’s father, then. Made sense. She’d have been so young when she’d had him, surely. Twenty? Twenty-one? And the bloke had been in Africa when he died? He was willing to bet that Skylar hadn’t been in Africa. She’d have been holding down the fort at home instead.
You did the same thing to Sam,he reminded himself. Then, of course, he told himself,That was different.Was it, though? Had it been fair to have three kids that she’d raised alone half thetime? And worse—had she been rushed, that morning? Sleep-deprived? The thought was right there, as it too often was in the low moments, the middle-of-the-night moments. Would it ever leave? Should it?
Wait. The kids. Scarlett said, “I don’t remember.” Looking closed down. “And this topic is not of general interest.”
“I’m interested,” Finlay said. “Olive’s interested too, because she said, and so is Georgia. George is probably interested too. That’s four, so that’s general.”
“Maybe I just don’t want to talk about my deadmum,then,”Scarlett said.
“Well,” Skylar said, “as we’re all finished eating, who wants pudding? I have apple crumble with custard.”
“Lovely tucker, darling,” her granddad finally decided to chime in. “Elegant, I call that.”
“Fish piccata,” Nan said. “I’ve had it with chicken, but never with fish. The fish is even better, I think. Such a delicate flavor, with the wine and lemon juice and all. And you’ve made pudding as well. Scarlett, why don’t you and Duncan clear the table while Skylar brings it out. After that, we have something to discuss with all of you.”
Why, why,whyhad she thought this dinner would be a good idea? And what must Zane think of her parenting? She could control an entire classroom, but not her eleven-year-old son?
Of course, he apparently couldn’t control his daughter, either. Well, how did you, short of sitting on their heads? Oil and water, that’s what those two were. They’d eat this pudding, then she’d collect her leftover food and …
Wait, there wasn’t any, because Scarlett was bringing the empty platter in now. Skylar had had a second fillet herself. She’d been hungry, fish was protein, and the piccata saucehadbeen lovely, whatever the kids had said. She wouldn’t think about how much butter she’d put in there.
How many fillets had Zane had, though, that they’d eaten it all? She couldn’t help it; she warmed to the thought that he’d liked her cooking. First the rugby-groupie thing, and now this? She was a walking stereotype.
At that moment, the man himself came into the kitchen with a stack of plates. “Looks choice,” he said, eyeing the bowls of warm apple crumble topped with rich yellow custard. “I didn’t say enough about your food. Best thing I’ve eaten in ages.”
More warm feeling, which was why she smiled, of course. “I’m glad. My neighbors said I should’ve fixed you roast lamb with winter veg. I’m afraid Finlay told them who was coming to dinner, and she—the wife—had major opinions about what such a man would want to eat. Of course, she’s well over eighty, so …”
“Nah.” He was slotting plates into the dishwasher. That meant she was looking at his back view, and his back view was something to see. Shoulders that stretched for ages, and … well, and a pretty good backside, too. “Nan cooks that way. Meat pies. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Choice, but …”
“But what?” She should be taking the apple crumble out to the table. Instead, she was looking up at him. He must have shaved this afternoon, because his jaw looked smooth, and she’d bet that took effort. He had enough beard for two. “Meat pies are no good? I like them more than I should, I’m afraid.”
He smiled. “Nah. I like them too much myself. Same reason I didn’t eat as much of the noodles and more of the fish. I have to eat heaps, but the calories have to count. And I enjoy venturing beyond English cuisine sometimes.”
“The sushi and bao buns.”
“That’s it. I’m secretly sophisticated, eh.” They both smiled at that.
“So no apple crumble, then?” she asked. “Or just no custard? Or no custardandno crumble? I could scalp one of these, I suppose, and give you just the apples.”
He grabbed a bowl and held it to his chest. She laughed, and he grinned. “I’ll sin,” he said. “Like with the wine last week. I find I quite enjoy sinning with you.”
Did she have some tingles while she served pudding? Yes, she did. That was all right. Tingles were good. Tingles werenew.This morning, when she’d been doing her chest workout, she’d felt the moves in places she certainly hadn’t before. In the soles of her feet—the tender part, there in the middle—and in, well, the tender parts in the middle ofher,too. Just during the bench presses and flies, though, which was odd. Could lifting weights make you more sexually responsive? Stimulate nerve endings in certain areas that connected to other areas, in a sort of … acupressure way? She’d bet Zane knew. She also knew she wouldn’t ask him for a million dollars.
“So,” Granddad said, the moment she’d sat down with the pudding served round. “Our announcement. Our plan.”
He looked expectant. Brimming. So did Maureen, though in a more secret, restrained way. They were holding hands under the table, too, Skylar could tell.
“Let’s have it, then,” Zane said, calm as always.
Marriage.No. They couldn’t. It had been months at most, and weren’t older people staying single these days for … for tax reasons, and inheritance reasons, and all those many other good reasons?
“We want to spend more time together,” Granddad said, and she let out her breath. That didn’t sound like marriage. It also didn’t sound like an announcement. What was stopping them? “And Zane travels, which means Maureen doesn’t have as much flexibility as I do. Skylar’s home every night, but you’re not, are you, mate?”
I could’ve done without you telling Zane that I’m home every night,Skylar thought, then realized that she’d practically told him that herself. And what was this about?
“You’re right.” Zane still sounded calm, but his eyes were watchful. “I’m not, especially at certain times of the year. Are you wanting to live together, then?”
“Not exactly.” That was Maureen. “We thought we’d ease into it. Spend more time together, as Geoffrey said. Spend our days together, at least until Skylar comes home from school and you come home from training, and, yes, some of our nights, too.”
