Page 41

She pushed open the door and there they were. Fox on his swivel chair in front of his bank of computers, with one arm cradling Willow on his lap, while the other hand manoeuvred his mouse. Willow kicked her legs happily now to see her but continued to suck on a white washcloth.

‘Have a good sleep?’ Fox asked.

Too many feelings collided at once and she couldn’t reply. Relief at seeing Willow, surprise that she was cradled in Fox’s arms, and the fact that both father and daughter looked so happy about it.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she stammered, not even sure where to start.

‘No worries. You must’ve needed it.’ Fox clicked his screen off and pushed the mouse away, before turning the cloth in Willow’s hand for her to have a fresh section to chew.

‘You didn’t even wake up when Willow did, so I thought I’d bring her in with me for a bit. Let you rest.’

‘I must have been unconscious,’ Robyn said, mortified. ‘I normally hear her every whisper.’

‘Yep, you looked kind of cute actually, with your head in the washing.’ Fox laughed gently as she felt a rush of colour to her cheeks. How embarrassing.

‘Anyway, this seems to be helping with the teething.’ He pointed at the cloth. ‘I put it in the freezer this morning because I remembered that this was the only thing that worked for George.’

‘Frozen fabric?’ Robyn asked.

‘You damp it down and then chill it. Soft so it can’t hurt them, and cold so it helps to numb the pain.’ Fox ran a hand over Willow’s soft brown hair as she sucked contentedly on her soother. Robyn’s heart thumped so loudly she thought he’d hear it.

‘Fox, you’re a life saver,’ Robyn said in amazement. ‘Thank you. I was going out of my mind.’

Fox nodded. ‘I know. I remember the feeling. I recognised the expression on your face.’

Robyn tried to smile but was surprised again by the sting of tears.

‘Sorry, ignore me,’ she said, brushing them away with her fingers. ‘I’m just tired.’

‘Which is why I’ve moved my meetings to tomorrow. I need you feeling fresh and well. So, I’m going to pick the boys up this afternoon and you’re going to chill out. Go put some washcloths in the freezer in the pool house so you’ve got a stash. And all this will be over in a day or two when little Kitten here gets her first tooth.’

‘But what about . . . ?’ Robyn waved her hand towards the kitchen where she knew there was a half-prepared dinner and a mound of washing which had probably been dribbled on as she slept.

‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘Etienne and Walker did the same thing for me sometimes. Just gave me a break in the early days, after, you know.’ A cloud passed over his face. ‘And it made the world of difference. It’s hard doing it all on your own.’

He jiggled Willow lightly against him as he stood and Robyn saw her daughter’s face light up with delight. The first sign of enjoyment in days. The relief was overwhelming. Everything was going to be all right.

‘Thank you,’ she said, overcome. He pulled her into a one-armed hug, holding Willow in the other, and squeezed her gently.

‘My pleasure,’ he said, letting her go and still grinning at Willow as he passed her over. ‘It’s been nice.’ As she walked back to the pool house with Willow against her front, Robyn could smell the sandalwood of Fox’s cologne on her clothes where he’d held her to his chest.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Fox

Having a couple of hours off on Wednesday afternoon meant Fox was behind on Thursday, and he still hadn’t made up the time by Friday. He wasn’t begrudging; he knew it had been the right thing to do. Robyn had looked like she was at the end of her rope and he’d felt strangely proud of himself when he’d been able to soothe the baby.

It seemed like an age since the boys were that little, but muscle memory had kicked in when he’d scooped Willow from the bouncy chair in the kitchen and tiptoed past Robyn at the table. The baby was a warm, wriggling weight and he murmured to her encouragingly as he got what he needed from the freezer and stowed away to the study.

She’d settled quickly and seemed extremely comfortable on his lap, almost as though she already knew him. But then, she must recognise his face from when he had a look in the buggy or maybe it was because she was accustomed to his voice around the house.

Holding a baby while he worked took him back to the early days without Meg. Balancing Willow against him and using one hand to type, he recognised just how far he’d come. It was not the life he’d ever imagined, not in a million years, but it was the one he had made, himself, for his boys. His family.

When Robyn had come stumbling into his study, wide-eyed and tearful, he felt for her – and not the normal feeling that he had whenever he glanced her way. So he’d offered to take the boys after school and actually had fun doing it. When she took Willow back, his lap felt strangely bare where the baby had been.

The boys had been happily surprised at the school gates to see him midweek, and the whole day had felt unexpectedly wholesome by the time he put them to bed and sank onto the sofa. But on Thursday, he’d been rushed off his feet. So much so that, after putting the boys to bed, he returned to his study to carry on, leaving the door slightly ajar to hear the boys if they called.

It was nearly midnight when he cracked his knuckles and stretched, rolling his shoulders back to ease out his back. It had been a late night, and he’d only survive Friday with the help of several strong coffees.