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‘Hey, Dad, can I go get one of Mrs Heaven’s blueberry muffins?’
‘Sure.’ I dip in my pocket and pull out a pound, flicking it to Alex. She catches it and skips off. ‘What do you want for dinner?’ I call.
‘You choose.’ She pushes her way into the café, and I grab a basket from the entrance to Mr Chaps’s, mentally running through my shopping list as I wander up and down the aisles, deciding on burgers. I make small talk with Brianna at the checkout as she scans and I pack, and flash her a smile as I leave, seeming to surprise her.
What can I say? I’m in a good mood, imbecilic drivers aside. But my mood crashes when I nearly collide with Darcy as I’m leaving. ‘Oh!’ she yelps, jumping back.
I sidestep her, being sure not to catch her with my bags, which is unlikely when she’s cleared my path for me, pushing herself up against the crate of potatoes nearby. She’s put herself back together since I saw her this morning, her pencil dress absent a single crease, her hair and makeup flawless. ‘I’m not contagious, Darcy.’
‘I never said you were,’ she replies as she pulls off her leather driving gloves.
‘You don’t have to.’ I pass her, making sure I keep my distance.
‘Ryan, wait.’ There’s urgency in her voice, and a certain softness I’m not used to. Therefore, I’m wary of it. Really wary.
I slow and turn. ‘What?’
She shifts on her heels, her eyes darting a little. ‘About this morning.’
‘You don’t have to explain.’ I saw what I saw, heard what I heard, did what I did. That’s it. I start to carry on my way.
‘I don’t want to explain. I wanted to thank you.’
Say what? I slow to a stop again. ‘You don’t have to thank me. Any man would have done the same.’
‘Maybe, but it was you who defended me.’
Since when has Darcy Hampton ever thanked me for anything? Mind you, have I ever done anything for her to justify a thanks? Yes, I have. I didn’t strangle her when she tried to pass my daughter off as another man’s. That deserves a thank-you.
‘So, thank you.’
‘Welcome.’ I continue to my truck, surprised when Darcy follows me out. ‘Was there something else?’ I ask, not curtly, but not particularly friendly.
She moves in a little closer, which in itself is odd. She’s usually very set on putting as much distance between us as possible. ‘Would you mind if I borrowed Alexandra this evening?’
She never asks me anything, just tells me. Who is this woman? ‘Why? You had her last night.’
‘I know, but last night I . . .’ She pulls herself back and takes a deep breath. ‘Last night I wasn’t myself. I just want some mother–daughter time with her. You know, makeup, dress-up, a few nibbles.’
Nibbles. Like caviar on cute little flatbreads? I look at the bags in my hands, full of ingredients to make some big, fat, juicy burgers. And makeup and dress-up? An image of Alex chopping wood in her frills and Converse sneakers this morning flits through my mind. ‘Darcy, I don’t—’ I quickly stop myself from condemning her for inflicting her prissiness on our daughter. Her husband walked out on her this morning. And for another woman. Whom he apparently loves. Darcy’s lonely. Sad. Wants company. ‘Sure,’ I agree, without much more thought, surprising me and Darcy. Maybe I should’ve run it by Alex first.
She smiles brightly at me. I don’t think Darcy Hampton has smiled at me since that fateful night over eleven years ago when she batted her lashes and my dick rose to attention. ‘Thank you, Ryan.’
Another thank-you. What’s the world coming to? ‘No problem.’ I put my shopping on the back of my truck and slam the tailgate up, looking across to the café for Alex, seeing no sign of her. ‘You want to take her now, or should I drop her off later?’
‘Where is she?’
I point my keys to the café just as my girl comes dancing out with a muffin shoved in her gob. ‘There.’
Darcy whirls around and throws her arms up. ‘Darling!’
‘Mum?’ Alex waffles, spiking a chuckle from me. She quickly chews and swallows, wiping her face with the cuff of her blouse. I wait for the backlash, bracing myself for the gasp of horror, not just at Alex’s manners, but at the state she’s in. Unlike me, Alex didn’t shower and change after our time in the woods. Instead, she polished Hannah’s bike and attached the bell. A flash of guilt comes over me. She wanted to give Hannah the bike this evening over burgers and beer. I’ll talk to her. We can give Hannah her new bike any day of the week.
As I lean back against the side of my truck, I watch as Darcy hustles over to Alex, but there’s no meltdown over her attyre. ‘Sweetheart,’ she coos, not even faffing with her clothes or wiping the stray crumbs from her chops. ‘Dad’s agreed to you staying with me tonight.’
