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But Vix’s lips curve up. “Goodnight,” she says to her daughter, and bends to kiss her hair.

“’Night, Mummy.” Millie jabs the book cover. “You can start now.”

“You’re so bossy,” Vix teases.

“She knows what she wants,” I reply, “and she’s not afraid of asking for it. Nothing wrong with that.”

To my surprise, Vix holds my gaze for a moment, hesitating. Her big brown eyes are warm, and for a moment I think she has taken my words on board and is about to say something.

But then she just gives a small smile, backs out of the room, and goes downstairs.

I sigh and open the book. “Okay. Here we go.” And I begin to read.

Millie yawns and puts her head on my shoulder, and I kiss the top of her hair. For a moment, emotion makes my stomach flip. Jayden had it all—a gorgeous wife, a beautiful daughter, a nice house, a good job. Yes, he had hurdles put in his path, but the accident didn’t take everything away from him. He chose to abandon it all, and I’ll never understand how he could have done that, when I would’ve given everything to have what he had.

Chapter Seven

Vix

I go down to the living room to find Dad sitting with his feet propped on the coffee table, a wine glass forgotten in his hand, his gaze distant.

“Hey.” I walk over and kiss the top of his head. His hair contains very little black now and is almost entirely white. He says that he doesn’t care if he loses his hair, but I’m sure deep down he’s pleased that so far it hasn’t vanished. “Penny for them.” I pick up my wine glass and sit on the sofa.

“Just musing,” he says.

“On what?”

He shrugs and sips his wine. “He’s very good with Millie.”

“Mitch? Oh yeah, I’ve always thought that. And she adores him.”

“As do you.” His eyes gleam.

I chuckle. “Of course I do. He’s a friend in a million.”

He tips his head to the side, studying me. “Just a friend?”

I blink, and I can feel my face growing warm. “We’ve never been interested in each other in that way,” I say, flustered.

“Oh,” he says softly, “I think you’re very, very wrong there.”

Startled, I open my mouth to reply, but a knock at the back door interrupts me. “I’ll go.” I get to my feet, go out into the hallway, and walk down to the door. It’s obviously someone we know, because strangers don’t come around the back.

I open the door, and my eyebrows shoot up at the sight of a big guy with scruffy beach hair, shorts and a faded T-shirt, jandals—the Kiwi name for flip-flops—which he takes off and leaves at the door, and a wide smile.

“Ollie!” I give him a big smile back.

“Evening,” he says. “Am I interrupting dinner?”

“No, we always eat early because of Millie. What can I do for you?”

“I heard Mitch was back and staying with you.”

“Yes, while he does up the bookshop flat. You want to see him?” I move back and beckon him in.

“Yeah, just thought I’d touch base.” He passes me, and I close the door behind him.

“Go into the living room,” I direct. “He’s reading Millie a bedtime story, but he’ll be down in a few minutes.”