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‘Stuff like what?’ she asked, but she thought she knew what Josh was trying to say.
Dan didn’t do everyday stuff with Josh. He would take him to baseball games and buy VIP seats in the dugout. He would drive him to the beach, if his father’s campaign was organising a clambake. He would do impromptu trips to the mall to buy Josh a pair of three hundred dollar high tops. But Dan would never have spent a whole day with his son letting him help paint a caravan, because he had never been able to give his son time and responsibility and the sort of day-to-day attention that didn’t come with shiny distractions.
They’d stopped doing family holidays together, because it had become too stressful. Dan would always be organising lavish day trips deep-sea fishing or reef snorkelling which Ellie was sure Josh didn’t want to do, but her son would never say he didn’t want to do, because he didn’t want to disappoint his dad. And she could never tell Dan that Josh didn’t want to do it, because she didn’t want to be the one to discourage them from spending time together.
Dan swooped in and gave Josh gifts or snippets of ‘quality time’ to make up for the fact he got bored if he ever had to spend actual time in his son’s company.
And that’s what Josh had missed when he saw Toto with her father.
‘Just stuff,’ Josh said, the dejection in his voice making Ellie’s insides twist.
However wonderful this summer had been for Josh, however much fun he’d had with his new best friend, roaming the woods, gaining in confidence, becoming part of this community, when he returned home all the old problems would still be there. All they’d really done was run away.
‘When we go back to the US, you’ll be able to do stuff with your dad, Josh, I promise.’
Because Dan would probably be even busier avoiding spending actual time with his new baby. The rush of anger was fierce and unprecedented, at the thought of how Dan had managed to stuff up all their lives. Not just her and Josh’s but quite possibly Chelsea’s and her baby’s too. She’d always made excuses for Dan. Because she knew deep down, he didn’t mean to be careless and selfish and immature. He just was.
But for a second she couldn’t help comparing him to Art, who had been in exactly the same situation thanks to another unplanned pregnancy, and had taken all of the responsibility instead of none of it. When they got back to Orchard Harbor, she was going to stop letting Dan off the bloody hook, parenthood wise. She’d told Josh about the divorce and that was a relief, but Dan could tell him about his new sibling.
Because it was way past time Dan got over the shock of becoming an accidental father at twenty-one and grew up.
‘I know, but I don’t want to go back yet.’ Josh’s mouth opened in another jaw-breaking yawn. ‘Me and Toto have got our holly tree den to finish. And Art said we could help paint the caravan. And I want to see Miss Morely and the other kids at school again like you said.’
Ellie smiled, pleased that neither one of them had to go back and face reality just yet. ‘That sounds like a plan, kiddo.’ She gathered The Goblet of Fire and laid it on his bedside table. ‘But now it’s time to go to bed.’
He snuggled down in the bed as she lifted the duvet. She kissed his forehead, and smoothed his damp hair, her heart swelling as his eyelids drifted downward, before he mumbled, ‘If Daddy came here to visit, we wouldn’t have to go back to Orchard Harbor at all.’
If only it could be that simple, she thought, as she
wished her son goodnight. As she turned off the light and shut the door to his room, the shadows from the corridor played over the mural Dee had painted for Josh before they’d arrived.
Maybe they’d been running away, but Josh had needed this breather and so had she. This summer had been a positive experience all in all, and they had a whole six weeks left before they had to return to Orchard Harbor and deal with Dan and the divorce and the new baby.
But, as she padded down the corridor, she passed Art’s bedroom on the way, and caught herself sweeping her gaze down to the bottom of the door for any signs of light.
The bubble of disappointment formed when there was none.
She pushed the silly reaction to one side as she got ready for bed.
She and Josh had a clear plan of action now, one they were both happy with. She had a wedding to organise and a shop to run for the next six weeks before they flew home. She was going to be super busy tying everything up here and making preparations for their return to New York. She didn’t have the time or the energy to get hung up on Art and a couple of inappropriate kisses. And anyway, they’d both agreed that slaking the lust between them was a monumentally bad idea – because it absolutely was.
Her life was enough of a mess already.
But, as she climbed under the newly washed sheet, the phantom scent of sweat and turpentine overwhelmed the lavender and her lips tingled with the memory of that bone-melting kiss.
She shuffled around in her bed trying and failing to get comfortable. The burning question she didn’t have an answer for running over and over through her head.
How the hell was she going to survive her new-found hunger for a month and a half, with Mr Guaranteed Orgasm sleeping right down the hall?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
After so many years not even thinking about sex – let alone wanting to actually indulge in any – Ellie had been sure that once she’d made the decision not to have any with Art, her libido would eventually get the message. And start behaving itself.
Wrong.
Two days after his melt-your-brain-cells kiss in the workshop, she lay in bed, watching the fairy lights her mother had draped over the mantel sparkle on the ceiling like stars, and contemplated another sleepless night spent trying not to fixate on all the things she should not want to do with Art Dalton.
Correction: Did not want to do.
