Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Fyfe’s true nature had won out with Millie. Deep down, Fyfe was what I always knew he could be: a nurturer, a protector. He was just terrified to be that man because the one person who was supposed to love him the most had abandoned him.
However, the way he was with Millie …
Despite our less than pleasant history, I was proud of Fyfe Moray.
“I think you’re a moron,” my brother had told me bluntly when I called to let him know Fyfe had received the DNA results. When Lewis asked me if Fyfe would hire a nanny now, I’d informed him I was going to continue watching Millie until Fyfe figured out permanent childcare. Calling me a moron was Lewis’s response.
“Excuse me?” I’d huffed.
“Look, I love you and I think it’s amazing you want to help Fyfe adjust to his new reality as a father, but this is masochistic, Eilidh. Why would you continue to put yourself in his orbit after he rejected you?”
“I’m over it,” I’d replied. “I’m dating Cameron.”
Lewis sighed. Heavily. “You don’t get over the person you love that quickly.”
“I’m not you.”
“Fine. Then I guess you never really loved Fyfe if it’s that easy.”
I’d sputtered in outrage.
“Either or, Eils. You’re a grown-up. I can’t protect you from everything. But please, be smart and don’t let yourself get hurt any more than you already have been.”
I promised him I wouldn’t, but the conversation with Lewis kept coming back to me throughout the next few days. Fyfe had just taken on an important client, he was adamant about finding whoever planted the cameras in my apartment, and he was exhausting all resources to locate Millie’s mother so he could come to a legal custody arrangement. I knew he was afraid Pamela would return and try to take his daughter from him.
The thought of Fyfe sharing a child with another woman was still disconcerting, but it wasn’t my business anymore.
“You seem preoccupied.” Cameron leaned across the table to touch my hand.
I blinked rapidly, guilt flushing through me. Thank goodness I wasn’t a blusher. “Oh, sorry. Um, it’s just been … crazy lately.”
I was totally zoned out of our date.
Cameron had invited me to his place for dinner. It was our sixth date, and I knew it was time to progress from making out to sex. I wanted to. I was attracted to Cameron. It certainly wasn’t fair to him that he worked busy hours at the doctors’ surgery but had made time to cook a delicious meal (coq au vin—the name certainly suggested he expected sex) and here I was, thinking about anything but the handsome man before me.
Shit.
Cameron sat back in his chair, a blank look on his face. “You’re thinking about Fyfe?”
I’d told Cameron I was babysitting Millie. With childcare taking up so much of my time, I had to. Of course I’d explained who Fyfe was (though I didn’t tell Cameron I’d once been in love with my brother’s best friend) and I thought he understood. In fact, Cameron seemed to think what I was doing was incredibly sweet.
Or he did think that a few days ago.
“I was thinking about Millie,” I corrected him. Dishonestly.
Cameron studied me thoughtfully. “Are you sure there’s nothing between you and Fyfe? Romantically, I mean?”
Was I giving off that vibe? How? I couldn’t possibly be. I was over him! “Of course not,” I answered truthfully. “I’m just his best friend’s wee sister.”
He frowned. “That’s what you are to him. What is he to you?”
Shrewd. The doctor was way too shrewd. It would be sexy if he wasn’t currently interrogating me. “A friend.” I crossed my arms, leaning back from the table. “And I don’t particularly enjoy being grilled about my relationships with other people.”
“I wasn’t grilling you. I asked a question.”
“Aye, one motivated by jealousy.”
Cameron’s fist tightened around a fork and he glanced away. “Sorry.”
Wariness shot through me. “I don’t do jealousy, Cameron. It’s kind of a big turnoff for me.”
After a few seconds, he released the fork and looked at me calmly. “Understood. It won’t happen again. You’re just … so beautiful. I want you to myself.”
Internally, I bristled. One: I belonged only to myself. Two: I wanted to be wanted for more than a face and body I hadn’t earned. It was a gift of genetics. As someone who was still on a path to liking herself, I needed the person I was dating to want me for me and not my looks. I understood physical attraction was a part of human connection, but I needed more than just that.
“Let’s forget I asked.” He gave me a congenial smile and stood. “More wine?”
“I’m good.”
A few minutes later, Cameron led me over to his sofa. He’d rented a spacious bungalow not far from my aunt Arro and uncle Mac’s house. It was already furnished when he rented it, and Cameron complained it lacked his personality, but it was stylish and comfortable.