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He got on the bike, kicked back the stand and revved the engine. “Don’t tell them I’m coming.”
“Want to surprise them, huh?” Rory
chuckled.
“Something like that.” Sean pulled on the helmet, squeezed Rory on the shoulder, and set off.
Sean Rattigan was ready to rebuild his life.
First goal: reunite with the woman he loved.
Chapter Two
Rowan Vaughn stared at her phone in disbelief. “Please tell me it’s not true.”
Nan looked up from her winged armchair. “What’s the matter?”
Rowan slammed the phone against her chest. Her heart hammered and she tightened her grip on her baby girl, Pixie—who was kicking her legs, trying to be break free.
Laughter emanated from her grandmother’s chair. “Whatever it is, it’s got you in a state. Give Pixie to me.”
Rowan glared at her grandmother and cuddled Pixie tighter against her side.
“Whatever is it? I haven’t seen you this flustered since you found out your mother was remarrying.” Edging forward in her chair, Nan put out one hand as if to reach for the phone and read the text message for herself.
Horrified, Rowan shoved the phone in her dressing gown pocket and cradled Pixie in both arms, cuddling her tightly before carrying her over to her toys. When she set Pixie on the floor, the little girl scrambled up onto the sofa.
“It’s not bad news from your sister is it?” Nan frowned.
“Don’t fret, Sky is fine. As for the message…I just haven’t decided exactly how bad the news is yet.” She pulled the phone back out of her pocket, desperate to read the message again. She’d already read it three times. It really was true.
“Sean is getting out of jail today.” She read it aloud, as if to prove it to herself. Eventually she dragged her attention from the phone back to her grandmother.
Nan’s eyes gleamed with interest. “No wonder you’re flustered.”
“I’m not flustered.” Rowan pocketed the phone again. She stomped to the window, trying not to freak out. He could turn up at any moment. “It probably doesn’t matter whether he’s out of jail or not. He won’t want to come here.”
“Then why are you looking out the window so expectantly?”
Rowan dropped the net curtain and turned on her heel, infuriated. “I’m not. I look out the window all the time.” She gestured in despair, raising both hands. She and Pixie lived in the same house with Nan and Aunt Gladys, Nan’s sister, and sometimes it was a battle of wills between headstrong women across three generations. Rowan loved Nan and Gladys, and they’d given her a loving home when she desperately needed it, but sometimes they teased her for their own entertainment, and it blew her mind.
Stomping over to the mirror over the fireplace she looked at her reflection in despair. It was nearly midday and she was still in her dressing gown. Thank God Sky had warned her by text. She pulled her hair back from her face. Her mass of black hair needed a bit of TLC and a damn good conditioner. She scooped it up and looped it into a top knot. “Even if he did come here,” she murmured, twiddling with her eyebrow piercing, “he wouldn’t recognize me. I’ve changed.”
“Read me the message,” Nan instructed from her armchair.
Rowan glanced over her shoulder. Pixie had climbed into Nan’s lap, and the two of them were staring at her expectantly. “Oh hell, why? I don’t have time for this. I’ve got stuff to do. I’ve only just started my evening classes. I can’t afford to mess up my second chance on week two.”
“So,” Nan continued, undeterred, “Sean’s coming here, is he?”
“How the hell do I know?” Rowan lifted her hands in a gesture of despair, then withdrew the phone from her pocket. Pixie reached out with grabby hands. Rowan held the phone at arm’s length. “It’s from Sky. She says, ‘you haven’t heard this from me, you’re not supposed to know. Sean is out today and he’s headed for Wales.’”
“Ah now, that explains it.” Nan brightened up considerably, as if she relished the thought Sean might turn up at the door at any moment. The ladies did love a bit of drama to gossip about.
That annoyed Rowan even more. Three years ago he was the devil incarnate to the older generation, a wicked seducer, a breaker of family law. Now, just because she had a child, Nan seemed ready to fix her up with anyone—even her own stepbrother, the forbidden one. If only Aunt Gladys were here. It was one of her volunteering days. Her moral code was rigid, and whenever Sean was mentioned she delivered a lecture on the evils of perversion, ludicrous though it was. They had nothing to worry about anyway, because Rowan was over him, well and truly, had been for a long time too. So what if he turned up here. She didn’t care one little bit.
“Wait, wait,” she blurted, her mind working overtime, “he’ll go to the old house. He doesn’t know we’ve moved in with Aunt Gladys.”
“Surely Rory will tell him?” Her Nan was laughing at her.
