twenty-odd years. And she’d been too busy being a working single mum to raise her head over the dating parapet. ‘... There is no one else.’
Finn’s head shot up from examining Lachie. ‘I see. Okay. Well, listen, Mr Monster, could you be a good boy and sit very still when your Mummy puts your boots on every night?’
Lachie nodded, open-mouthed.
‘I’ve got some superhero stickers for you. Every time you sit still for Mummy you can have a sticker. Deal? And you can put them on your night-time boots and make them fit for a superhero like you.’
‘Yes.’ Lachie nodded and laughed. ‘Dickers.’
‘Stickers, honey. St...stickers. Thanks, er, Finn. That’s a great idea. We’ll try them.’
Typical. Every night was a battleground lately and, no matter what she’d done or said or promised, Lachie had fought her about those boots. Now he was nodding, all big-eyed at Finn.
Yes, life would have been immensely easier if there’d been two pairs of hands throughout her pregnancy and the birth and the endless hospital appointments for Lachie’s feet. Two parents to ease the strain. Two brains to work out how to deal with his problems and work out a shared timetable instead of it all being on her, juggling everything. Two hearts to love him. Because he deserved that, more than anything.
She pressed her lips together and stopped a stream of bad words escaping her mouth. At least the man was taking time out of his schedule to see them. He wasn’t all bad.
There had been many times, usually during one of Lachie’s sleepless nights, or more recently during his tantrums, when she’d thought the opposite. She really needed to talk to him.
Finn grinned. ‘Let’s see you walking, shall we? Just bare feet.’
‘He started to walk at fourteen months, and he’s met all his other milestones. I had him treated as soon as we could and I’ve been pedantic about making sure he’s wearing the boots and bars. The staff at Nursery know what to do and snap the bars on every nap time too.’ She looked at the thin plastic boots and the metal bar they snapped into to hold his feet at the correct angle, for over half of his short life, and her heart pinged again. It hadn’t been plain sailing.
‘Well, it’s definitely working. Look, the feet are just a little splayed out and that’s what we want for now. Perfect.’ Well, the guy definitely knew his stuff; she couldn’t fault him on that. Finn lifted Lachie to the floor then he walked to the far end of the room.
Interesting. He definitely favoured his left leg as he walked. A subtle limp he hadn’t had that night. Knowing him, it was a rugby injury; he’d mentioned he played. That had accounted for the body she’d enjoyed so damned much. She watched him now, the way he moved with less finesse but with a body that sung with the benefits of hard-core exercise. Beneath his navy polo shirt she saw the outline of muscles, the hug of short sleeves around impeccable biceps. His perfect backside in those black trousers. Her stomach contracted at the thought of what they’d done in that hotel room, the way he’d treated her with reverence, the way he’d slowly undressed her and caressed her. The taste of him.
She swallowed hard and pushed a rare rush of lust away. She had no right thinking like that. He’d let her down. Let her son down.
She appraised the simple facts; he was a man who knew a lot about keeping a body fit, that was all. A physiotherapy student, he’d said he was, and a rugby player for some club or other; she hadn’t ever followed the sport so it had meant nothing to her.
Knowing him. Well, she didn’t, did she? Not at all. She’d liked him. A lot. They’d clicked. At least she’d thought so.
Turned out they hadn’t. When he didn’t call she’d tried to find him but it was hard to find someone when you didn’t know their surname. She’d Googled. Scoured social media. Even checked out the physiotherapy departments in every Scottish university, but he’d disappeared into thin air and in the end she’d had to give up. The guy really hadn’t wanted to know her at all. Or her child.
His child.
THERE IS NO one else.
Sophie’s words had been going over and over in his head since the consultation yesterday. No ring. No partner. And each time she’d appeared in his brain his gut had jumped at the thought of her being single, then taken a dive as he registered the reality of his situation.
But something was bugging him about the boy and her story, like a jigsaw puzzle piece that didn’t fit. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but her demeanour had been off. She’d been in a hurry to leave. She’d kept the boy close. As if...as if what? As if she didn’t trust Finn with him. Why the hell not?
Shaking his head, he punched the boy’s name into his work computer and waited for Lachie’s file to appear.
‘Hey. Put the work down. It’s past six and I’m parched.’ Ross appeared in the doorway to Finn’s office, briefcase in hand and coat on. ‘Fancy a drink at the Tavern? I’m meeting Greta and some of the gang from here are coming down too.’
Oh-oh, that spelt trouble. ‘It’s not some sort of blind date thing, is it?’
‘You really are dating-shy, aren’t you?’ Ross was all pretend offended as he put his hand on his heart. ‘Would I do that to you?’
‘I don’t know.’ Finn thought back to yesterday’s conversation. ‘Yes. Probably.’
‘I can one hundred per cent assure you that I have not arranged for any single women to be in the vicinity of the bar tonight. Although I can’t vouch for Greta; she’s a different kettle of fish altogether, she’s keen to see you settled. But not tonight, I promise. All I can offer is beer, maybe some greasy chips and a steak pie. Come on. You missed the last team night out.’
Because he’d been new to the job and hadn’t wanted to answer a zillion questions about the accident. But, with a sigh, Finn relented. It was about time he started to extend a hand of friendship to his colleagues. If this new life was going to work out it would have to involve social stuff too. ‘Sure, I’ll come over when I’m done here.’
Ross walked into the office and looked over Finn’s shoulder. ‘Problem?’
Searching for Lachie was veering on the personal and not suitable for work. He’d have to look tomorrow to try to solve the puzzle. ‘No. Just checking I wrote the notes on an extra I saw yesterday.’
Ross squinted at the screen. ‘Ah, little Lachie Harding. Good kid. Mum’s pretty cool too. She’s worked hard with him. I wish every parent was like that. Although she missed her appointment yesterday, which isn’t like her. I wondered if she turned up eventually. You saw them?’
‘Yes. He’s doing fine, but the boots are rubbing. I think he’s getting to the age where he wants what he wants and makes sure everyone knows about it. We talked through some remedies.’ Why he had such an interest in the boy he didn’t want to admit. He certainly couldn’t tell his boss.
I had a one-night stand. I liked her. A lot. I thought there could be something, but then
