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“You’re distracting me, and I’m having difficulty focusing. Like someone is calling out for me right now. I have to go, even though I’d love to see how this finishes.”
I laughed. “I think you can guess. I’ll send you the photo of me coming if you like.”
“If you want.”
“Don’t sound so enthusiastic,” I said.
“I prefer the real thing. And if someone hacks your phone, these will become public.”
My stomach sank at the reminder of that wretched sex tape.
I moved my phone to my face and blew him a kiss.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
And we left that hot and steamy moment at that.
As I was leaving for London, I saw my mother with Cary in the courtyard.
I needed to tell her about the woman in the car.
But how? She looked so happy. It broke my heart to crash her bliss.
Ethan would know what to do. He was going to drive me to London, and I’d promised to drop in, mainly to see my nephew.
When I arrived at their house, Mirabel was in the garden with Cian, who was tossing a ball to Freddie, looking like pure domestic harmony in front of that picturesque cottage.
“The garden’s lovely,” I said to my very-pregnant sister-in-law.
“Thanks.” She smiled.
Freddie jumped all over me and licked my hand. “Hey, cutie.”
I found my brother on his laptop when I arrived. A guitar, sheet music, and notepads scattered over the sofa made the room look messy and lived in.
I preferred that to everything being perfect in its place.
Having helpers meant that we never experienced mess, only the crap in my head, and no amount of domestic help could help clear that up.
“Ah. Good, you’re here. I thought I was meant to pick you up.” Ethan closed his laptop.
Cian chased Freddie. Wearing his caped crusader outfit, my nephew dangled a mask.
Mirabel laughed. “He’s trying to mask Freddie. The dog let him yesterday, but now he knows what’s involved, he doesn’t want a bar of it.”
I giggled. “How’s his piano going?”
Mirabel looked at her son. “Do you want to show Auntie Savvie what you learned yesterday?”
Cian stuck his thumb in his mouth and went from wild to adorable and shy.
His mother helped him on the piano stool, and then his little fingers ran through the scales.
“Wow.” I looked at Ethan, who wore the proud smile of a father.
“Thea’s impressed. He’s got a good ear, apparently.”
Cian gaped at us with those wide chocolate eyes, soaked in our adulation, and then jumped off the stool and returned to chasing Freddie with the mask.
