Page 34 of The Thug And His Doll

“Drix!” Toby exclaims, his eyes lighting up as he steps into the kitchen.

My stomach does a flip-flop at Toby’s obvious happiness at his return. There’s something about Drix’s presence that makes me feel uncertain. Not in a bad way per se, but in a way that’s far more scary. I push it down, I have no business feeling anything towards Drix other than gratitude. This is just temporary. I refuse to allow myself to get emotionally attached in any way, I can’t fall into that trap again.

“Hey, Toby, Lia,” he says, meeting my gaze before flicking his eyes to Daisy who has practically wolfed down half of her portion already. “I can see you started without me.”

“Sorry, I’m starving and this is so good,” she mumbles around her food.

“I can see that,” he chuckles, grabbing the plate that I set down for him and pulling up the seat beside mine. “Thanks for this, Lia. I appreciate it.”

“Like I said to Daisy, it’s the least I can do,” I mumble, concentrating on eating and not at the warmth emanating from him, heating me up in a way that I refuse to look too closely at.

“The cherry pie is cooking in the Aga as we speak, and Lia whipped up some homemade custard to go with it. So don’t go pigging out on multiple helpings of lasagna, you need to leave room for all that yummy goodness,” Daisy adds.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ve always got plenty of room for cherry pie,” Drix replies, his voice appreciative.

“Did you get everything sorted at the gym?” Daisy asks after a beat.

“Yep. I just needed to make sure the rota was covered for the next couple weeks. The guys have got shit covered for me.”

“Drix!” Toby exclaims, wide-eyed as he looks between us both.

Drix pulls a face, his forkful of food inches from his mouth. “Sorry, Lia, Toby. I really need to watch my mouth.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Toby interjects good-naturedly. “Mama swore a lot the other night too. She owes four pounds to the jar. Don’t you, Mama?”

“Is that so?” Drix asks, side-eying me, a smile playing on his lips as he chews his food.

“It was a bad night,” I respond quietly.

“Looks like you both need to cough up then,” Daisy comments, biting back a laugh.

“Well, I did wrong, so I guess I should pay for it.” Drix says, reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out a ten pound note, placing it on the table between us.

“That’s too much. It’s one pound per swear word,” I point out.

“That’s for any future mistakes I might make, and for the ones you owe,” he replies, pushing the note towards me.

“You don’t need to cover mine. I can pay my own way,” I reply, pushing it back towards him, knowing that, actually, I can’t.

Drix’s hand covers my own, and I stiffen at his touch, my heart racing in my chest. “It’s cool. I got this,” he offers, squeezing my fingers before letting go.

With my hand still warm from his touch, I pull back, leaving the note where it is. It sits between us like a promise of something more. I don’t know what that is, but I do know I can’t lean on this man more than I already have.

Daisy watches the exchange with interest until eventually she says, “Well I guess it’s up to me to be in charge of the swear jar then.”

Leaning across the table she snatches up the note, then slides off the stool and walks to the far side of the kitchen, pulling open a cabinet next to the Aga. Reaching down she brings out a screw top jar and unscrews the lid, placing the note inside.

“There, all sorted,” she says, placing it on the side. “Now when you fill this to the brim with all the money you’ll owe for swearing, Drix, me and Toby can use it to pay for a trip to the amusement arcade in town. What do you think, Toby, does that sound like a good plan to you?”

“An amusement arcade? What’s that?”

Daisy claps her hands together in glee. “It’s only the best place on Earth to win unicorns!”

“Win unicorns? Mama, can I go? Can I?” he asks, whipping around his head to look at me.

“Oh dear, you’ve gone and done it now,” Drix says, scooping up another mouthful of lasagna, his hum of appreciation like a soft caress against my skin.

I clear my throat, prepared to let Toby down gently, but his wide-eyed wonder stops me. Instead, I say, “Well, if we’re still here when that jar fills up, I guess it would be okay.”

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