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The wee one skips in and plants a kiss on Darcy’s cheek.
Darcy holds her little chin and smiles. “Be good for…Uncle Ewan.”
“Okay.” She shrugs and skips away.
I watch her go, liking how she trusts me out of nowhere. Turning back to Darcy, I catch her staring at me with steady scrutiny. Thick silence grows between us until a crash from the other room makes her jump.
“Oopsie!” Sadie giggles.
I smile at Darcy. “I got it. Have a good day.”
“I’ll text you when I have a break.” She pushes out the door, looking at me over her shoulder. The scene is completely foreign to me, sending a woman off to a job while I’m home with a child.
I should be terrified, but I’m not.
The house goes deadly quiet, and I take the plate of the food Darcy made me and wander into the living room to see a bowl on the floor. Sadie looks up at me and waves. “I knocked it over.”
“No problem.” I pick it up and don’t see any food. “You finished eating?”
“Yep.” She jumps on the couch, dancing along with a dog wearing a sweater on the tele.
Glancing that way, I wonder how many channels they have. I see a satellite remote, and thank heavens, something can distract me from these sinful thoughts screaming at me about Darcy.
“Sadie, I want to go into town later. You’re gonna have to come with me, aye?”
“Sure.” She pulls on her red and white shirt with a blue satin bow. The same bow is on the pockets of cute kiddie jeans. “Can Lucy come?”
“Who the f…” I stop myself. “Who is Lucy?”
She holds up what looks like a giant Barbie doll with a mature face and long, blonde hair. “My best friend.”
Exhaling, I say, “Sure. She’s…cute.” In a very creepy kind of way.
Sadie hugs the doll, who’s dressed in torn pink footsie pajamas. “I got her for Christmas.”
“Nice. What else did you get?”
“This was it.”
Shite…
“Does Lucy have anything else to wear?”
“No.” Sadie shakes her pigtails, and the sadness guts me.
Guess we’re going to the toy store…
CHAPTER EIGHT
Darcy
Thefootclinicispacked with patients. Cutting yellow nails and dead skin between toes is the closest I’ll get to being a surgical nurse.
Unless I go to New York with Ewan.
Ewan. Holy moly, seeing the man naked ignited a memory long-buried in my brain of those sculpted abs and bulging biceps. He looked more filled out than five years ago. Even the warrior tattoo on his chest looks bigger, or maybe he filled it in. Added to it. Overall, Ewan Quinlan looks more manly—more everything, especially his cock. That seemed bigger, too.
Callum wasn’t that big. Yet he managed to do a lot of damage with his member. I’d already missed my period when he held me down andpunishedme for giving my virtue away to another man. I never reported what he did to me; people around here don’t believe women. It would be his word against mine, and I didn’t want to drag my family through the ordeal.
