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“I might have something for him. I’ll talk to the builders working on the resort.”
Drake frowned. “But won’t Mrs Lovechilde put up a fuss? Since she’s convinced he robbed her? You do know he was only on the grounds because he was seeing one of the girls who works in the kitchen?”
“Declan told me.” I smiled tightly.
“Good morning,” Carson said as he entered the room.
“Morning,” I responded. “How’s the corporate boot camp scene going? Are you whipping those well-fed arses into shape?”
“Yep. They’re a weak bunch. But they pay well. And there’re lots of girls.” He virtually winked at me.
I could imagine city chicks throwing themselves at this seriously well-built man. He was Channing Tatum’s double, according to Savanah, who found it hard to string a coherent sentence around him.
“I’m moving on. I’m about to set up my own security agency,” he said.
“Oh really? You’re leaving Bridesmere?”
“Yep. I miss London, and there are a few girls causing issues.” He scratched his sharp jaw.
Been there. Done that.I chuckled knowingly. Another ugly side to having been a player was girls heaping abuse at me, justifiably accusing me of being a first-class shithead.
Carson’s girl-pulling power had become a talking piece. My sister was the only one missing out. Not for her lack of trying. But I’d heard that the burly ex-soldier, out of respect for Declan, wouldn’t have a bar of it.
My sister didn’t know that, and she didn’t need to know. I figured a little healthy knock back every now and then wouldn’t hurt someone used to having everything she wanted. Not that Savanah was a petulant spoilt brat like some in our privileged scene. In many ways, she had an earthy outlook on life, which redeemed her. But then, I could have been biased, given she was my sister.
When it came to knock backs, I’d experienced my first ever. Mirabel had taken me down a peg or two. Bruised ego or not, I still respected her for not taking advantage of this deepening attraction I’d developed for her. She could have told me that I was the actual father.
But what if the child’s mine?
That persistent question lingered in the back of my mind like a pesky stalker lurking in the shadows. Whenever I allowed that question to take control of my thoughts, my heart raced. My mind and heart battled as I pondered over what to do. I knew that Mirabel was strong enough to raise the child by herself, but the thought of her going through this alone turned me into an emotional wreck. I wanted to hold her hand through it. Help her. Be there for her.
Over and above everything; I missed her. I wanted to be in her life—baby or no baby. I just wanted to see her. It was like a part of me had been sedated. Half of my body was numb. The lower half. My dick hardly moved these days.
I regarded Carson as he packed away the equipment. “So now that you’ve broken the hearts of all the girls in Bridesmere, you’re off on a London feeding frenzy?”
He chuckled. “I’m not that bad, you know. And, look, about Savanah, I…” He scratched his jaw. “I hope she’s managed to shake off that Dusty character. He’s a nasty little prick, that one. I saw him pull a knife on a girl one night.”
My eyes bulged. “You’re fucking kidding me. Savanah had a few bruises a while back. When I asked her, she denied that he was responsible.”
“He’s already tasted my knuckles. I hope she’s staying away from him. Because if I hear he’s as much as touched her, that crooked nose of his will need reconstruction surgery.”
His eyes shone with malice. I wouldn’t have liked to piss him off.
“He’s locked up. She’s not seeing him. Which I believe because she’s moping around. When I asked her to one of my mate’s parties in London, she jumped at the invite. She normally stays away from my friends. They’re all a bit too washed and well-behaved.”
He laughed. “Your sister’s got spirit—that’s for sure. I’m happy to know that she’s not seeing that piece of shit. She could do better.”
“We’ve been telling her that for years.”
After he left, I sweated through a one-hour workout, thanks to Drake pushing me along. He had this intuitive knack for making me go past my threshold without injuring me. If he hadn’t been there, I would have left after pounding the treadmill. But he always made me put in the time, and it was paying off. Addicted to the high that followed a good workout, I’d become quite the gym junkie. Endorphins gave me that boost I needed to get out there and make up for all that time I’d lost partying.
Chapter 23
Mirabel
Iwasnoweightmonths pregnant and looked like I was going to explode. I waddled instead of walked. And as I sat there with Sheridan and Bret at the table, enjoying the roast that Bret had whipped up, I wiped my plate clean. Once the morning sickness had subsided, I’d turned into an unbothered foodaholic. Having always been disciplined when it came to food and sweets, due to my tendency to stack weight, I surrendered to my body and felt healthy for it.
There was nothing worse than guilting over food. I’d guilted over most pleasures in the past because when it came to having fun, I was a glutton. Now that I was carrying another life, I didn’t miss my inner hedonist. I suddenly had time to read, write songs, go for long walks along the cliffs, or just sit for long periods, watching the ebb and flow of the ocean.
