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The honesty and the hope they had established on their wedding day, and the heat between them, had been a bedrock on which to build so much more. A foundation which had stayed strong while they met the many challenges of forming a new and exciting relationship, not just with each other but with Nico and little Markus too.
Bronte stroked his cheek, the scar rough against her palm, and smiled when his expression softened, the way it always did whenever he looked at her, or Nico, or Markus.
‘Your transformation from playboy bachelor to devoted husband and father happens to be great press for the new brand. Deal with it.’ She laughed at his exasperated expression as she repeated Dex Garvey’s favourite phrase.
‘Don’t you start,’ he muttered, rolling his eyes, but amusement quirked his lips and no small amount of pride flushed his cheeks.
‘Daddy, Daddy, when are we going to get there?’ Nico had let go of her hand as soon as they’d boarded and now raced up to Lukas to tug on his trouser leg.
Daddy.
Bronte’s heartbeat stuttered, as it always did when she remembered the scene two months ago, after Nico had come back from his first day at pre-school in tears. Bronte had known something was terribly wrong, but the little boy had refused to talk about it until Lukas had returned from work.
‘Why can’t you be my daddy and Auntie Bronte be my mummy?’ he had asked Lukas, his face heart-wrenchingly distraught. ‘If baby Markus can have you as his mummy and daddy, why can’t I? I don’t want my mummy and daddy to be dead.’
Lukas had looked at her over the little boy’s head as he’d lifted Nico into his arms to try and soothe him, the agony she felt reflected in his eyes.
It wasn’t something they’d ever discussed properly, oth
er than to acknowledge that neither one of them wanted to usurp Alexei and Darcy’s rightful place in Nico’s life. But, as with so many things, Lukas had been the one to solve the problem. Simply and pragmatically, he’d negotiated with the little boy, man to man. He had sat Nico on his knee and explained to him that he was just as important to them as baby Markus and he always would be. But Nico had replied—being almost as tough a negotiator as Lukas—that his new friend Jake at school had told him being a nephew wasn’t the same as being a son.
Lukas’s gaze had connected with hers again and she had nodded, giving him her permission to find a solution. And, once again, her faith in his ability to handle Nico with tenderness and sensitivity and understanding had been rewarded.
He had told the little boy that while he would always have an extra mummy and daddy, who had loved him very much, of course Nico could call him and Bronte Mummy and Daddy too, if he wanted to, because that was exactly what they were to him.
Ever since, Nico had been calling them Mummy and Daddy as often as was humanly possible. And after ten hours on a plane with not nearly enough sleeping going on, his excitement at having his daddy’s attention for two whole weeks had made his voice more than a little shrill.
‘Will you take me on the water slides when we get there, Daddy? Will you, Daddy? Will you?’
‘It’s going to be dark by the time we get there, Nikky,’ Lukas said, kneeling down to talk to the little boy eye to eye. ‘So that would be a no,’ he added, never afraid to use a firm hand with Nico—unlike her.
Nico’s chin dropped comically to his chest. ‘But Daddy, I want to. I’ve been dreaming about it for hours and hours.’
‘To be dreaming about it, you would have had to be asleep,’ Lukas pointed out, tucking a finger under Nico’s chin and lifting his face to his. ‘And not a lot of sleeping has been going on, as I recall.’
‘But Daddy...’ Nico employed his wheedling voice.
‘But Nikky...’ Lukas said, mimicking the little boy and making him giggle. ‘How about this—if you do as you’re told and sleep on the plane now and when we get to the villa tonight, without any more arguments, I promise to take you on the slides first thing in the morning.’
‘Really?’ Nico asked, his eyes widening with awestruck pleasure, and Bronte’s heart became so large she was surprised it didn’t burst right out of her chest.
Lukas stood up and looked down at his older son as he continued to soothe the baby on his shoulder. ‘Have I ever broken a promise?’ Lukas asked, his voice solemn.
Nico shook his head furiously.
‘So do we have a deal?’ Lukas said.
Nico nodded, just as furiously.
Lukas reached out his free hand and they shook on it together, the poignant father-son bonding moment making Bronte’s swollen heart start to choke her. How this man could ever have believed he wouldn’t make a brilliant husband and father was beyond her.
Happy tears leaked out of her eyes, which she brushed away before either of them could see them. Because that would simply lead to another poignant father-son bonding moment about how silly Mummy was—for crying about nothing.
But it wasn’t nothing to her—it was everything.
* * *
‘Now, go to sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.’ Lukas kissed his son’s forehead and tucked the sheet around him.
