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"Rugby is a game for barbarians played by gentlemen.
Football is a game for gentlemen played by barbarians."
Oscar Wilde, amateur football player
“What do you think you’re doing?” Abby’s hysterical question hit Flynn as soon as the door shut on her sister. It distracted Flynn from his speculation about the sister. There were skeletons in her closet. Possibly ones that would help Abby’s cause.
“I’m helping. Like I told you I would.”
“This is helping?” Her voice became a high-pitched screech. Not attractive.
“Flynn’s in trouble, Flynn’s in trouble,” Katy sang. “Make him sit on the naughty step. He never sits on the step.”
“What did we talk about, kid? You’re supposed to be nice to me.”
“Only when Aunty Victoria is here, and she’s gone.” She turned back to her mother. “Make him sit on the stair!”
“That’s it,” Flynn told her. “No story tonight. If you can go back on the deal and freak the hell out, I don’t need to read stories.”
“Children!” Abby shouted then flushed red when she realised what she’d said.
The look on her face would have been funny—if he hadn’t been the one she was calling a kid.
Katy smirked, and Flynn resisted the overwhelming urge to stick his tongue out at her. Huh, maybe Abby had a point?
“I mean,” Abby said with forced calm, “you two stop it.” She pointed at Katy. “She has an excuse. She’s a preschooler. What’s your excuse?”
Flynn couldn’t resist. He pointed at Katy too. “She made me do it!” He burst out laughing.
Abby ran her fingers through her hair, obviously forgetting it was tied in a bun at the base of her neck. Her fingers caught and the hair came loose, hanging lopsided at her shoulder.
“Damn it.” She pulled out the rest of the pins.
Katy’s hands flew to cover her mouth, her eyes wide. “She said the D-word,” she whispered to Flynn.
“Aye.” Flynn pretended disappointment. “Her behaviour is deteriorating. Maybe she should sit on the naughty step?”
Katy’s giggle told him she thought it was a brilliant idea. Meanwhile, Abby was muttering something about cats and hatters. Flynn actually began to worry; yet another emotion he was unfamiliar with. He wasn’t sure how many more times Abby could lose the plot before she lost it for good. She was English. The English dealt with trauma by drinking tea. He could make tea.
“Sit down,” he told the pacing woman. “It’s all going to be fine. I’ll make you a nice cup of tea and you’ll feel a lot better.”
“I’ll help,” Katy shouted.
Whatever. Flynn headed for the kitchen counter with the terrorist at his heels. Abby ignored his soothing advice and continued with her muttering and pacing. Although, he had to say, he enjoyed the pacing. She wore a pale pink dress that skimmed her curves and ended below her knee. It had a high neck, long sleeves and was in no way revealing. Yet on her, it was sexy as hell. Especially seeing as it cupped her curvy backside with every angry step she took. And damn. Those heels. The pink peep-toes were sex in shoe form. He almost groaned at the sight.
“You fill the kettle,” Katy said. “I’ll get the tea bags.”
Flynn dragged his eyes away from her mother, to see Katy climb on a stool and retrieve some tea bags from the cupboard. There was an open box of tea on the counter. Flynn pointed at it.
“Why aren’t we using this tea?”
Katy looked at him like he was the idiot. “That’s loose tea. I don’t know how to work it. Teabags are easier.”
She had a point. Flynn didn’t know what to do with loose tea either. Katy arranged a cup and saucer, then put a bag in it while they waited for the kettle to boil. Flynn leaned against the counter and watched Abby mutter.
“Is this normal?” he asked Katy.
“No.” Katy shook her head. “She once threw a pot at the wall. And a long time ago she cried. I think that was when my daddy died. Muma usually smiles. Except when she’s mad at you. You made her cry too. But only a little bit. Not like the last time. And usually she talks to real-life people. I don’t know who she’s talking to right now.”
“Neither do I,” Flynn said.
Suddenly Abby stopped pacing and spun to them. Her eye twitched. Not a good sign. “Katy.” He voice was saccharine sweet. “Could you go play in your room for a little while? Muma needs to talk to Mr Boyle.”
“It’s okay to call him Flynn. He’s not really a grownup.”
The eye twitch grew more noticeable. “Honey, go play in your room.”
“Okay.” Katy huffed as she stomped to the door. “But no kissing while I’m gone.”
“We’re not going to kiss,” Abby snapped at the same time Flynn said, “I’m not promising anything, kid—that wasn’t part of our deal.”
“Deal?” Abby’s attention zoomed in on him.
Flynn winced. Yeah, maybe now wasn’t the best time for this discussion. Unfortunately, the terrorist wasn’t on the same page as he was.
“Flynn’s going to buy me a swimming pool if I pretend I like him and I stop telling Aunty Victoria all about everybody’s business.”
Abby didn’t move for a long minute as she stared off into space. She was frozen. System overload. Where was her reboot button? He needed to call a doctor.
“Go. Play.” Her words were even. A quiet command brooking no argument.
With a dramatic slump of her shoulders, Katy did as she was told. Abby stared after her for a long time before turning to Flynn.
“I can explain.” He held up his hands in a reassuring gesture while eyeing the area around her for weapons.
“Yes. You can and you will. Start now.”
Man, she was hot with a capital H when she got all bossy. Flynn dragged his mind out of his shorts and focused on defusing the bomb that was Abby.
“I was trying to help.”
She let out a strangled scream. He carried on regardless.
“I’ll be the first to admit I’m not used to helping people. And maybe I don’t know what I’m doing. But I should at least get credit for effort.”
He looked at her hopefully. She glared back. Flynn charged on, hoping to get the explanation out before Abby went hunting for a knife.
“I thought your sister should know you’re a really respectable person and the blame for any uncharacteristic behaviour rests with me.”
She lips formed words, but no sound came out. She was counting to ten silently. “And you thought coming over here, confronting my sister, being rude and corrupting my child was the way to go about helping me?”
“Okay, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so good.”
“And you bribed my daughter?” The scary high-pitched tone was back again.
Flynn lowered his voice to compensate for it, hoping it would soothe her. “Look, we both know you were having problems with the things Katy was saying. I thought I’d help. Now she’ll keep her mouth shut around your sister.”
Wrong thing to say. Abby’s eyes snapped to his. “How do you know that?”
Flynn looked around the room, hoping an answer would present itself. It didn’t. He had no choice but to go with honesty. “I heard you at the stream.”
Abby gasped. Her hand flew to her chest. Her face went pale. Flynn’s muscles tensed, ready to run for her if she looked like she was going to drop. He’d pay for it later—his leg didn’t want to run; it barely wanted to walk—but he couldn’t let her topple to the floor. Again.
“Take nice, easy breaths, sugar. It’s going to be okay. Why don’t you sit down? There’s a chair right behind you. That’s right,” he encouraged as she plopped onto the chair.
“You heard me?” Her voice was a trembling whisper. Her eyes were glassy. Oh hell. It wasn’t fainting. It was crying. Flynn wanted to run now for sure. Except this time he didn’t want to run to her rescue—he wanted to head out the door and keep going until he was back in London.
“It’s okay. It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” He aimed for the same gentle tones he’d once used years earlier when he’d talked an injured dog out of a corner.
“You heard me?” she whispered again, and a tear ran down her cheek.
Oh hell. The dam had cracked. With a grimace, Flynn limped over to her. He bit back a grunt of pain as he knelt on his good knee in front of her. Awkwardly, he patted her shoulder.
“There, there.” He was pretty sure that was what people said in situations like this. He was equally sure that the words he’d used with the dog—“Come on, boy, be brave and I’ll get you a juicy bone”— wouldn’t help here. “It’s okay,” he said instead.
“It’s not okay.” Her big chocolate eyes were melting. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to David. You weren’t supposed to listen. No one was supposed to hear.”
At the sight of more tears, Flynn broke out in a cold sweat. Would she be okay for a minute alone? He just needed enough time to call Matt or Harry. They had women. Either of them would know what to do. Right? Abby’s big brown eyes looked up at him, and he knew he couldn’t leave her side. There was no choice but to grit his teeth, comfort the woman and hope like crazy he didn’t screw things up further. What to say? What to say? Inspiration struck.
“It’s a good job I heard you. Your husband isn’t in any fit state to help out, but I can. I want to.” Okay. So that didn’t come out the way he’d intended. He pushed on. “Aye, it shocks the hell out of me too. But I do want to help. I got you into this mess. I want to help get you out of it. Sure, your kid is the spawn of Satan, but you like her so you should get to keep her. I’d feel bad if she went away. It’s not like you have a backup. She’s the only one you have.”
Abby blinked several times as though stunned. Did hearing he wanted to help send her into shock? Was that even possible?
Flynn ran his hand down her back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “There, there,” he said again, then gave himself a mental eye roll. “I’m going to do what I can to fix this. I promised you I’d clean up my act. That’s why I’m here. To help you out.”
“By buying my daughter a pool?” She seemed confused. Was that a symptom of shock?
“It’s just a pool. It’s no big deal.” He didn’t think it was a good time to mention the other items on the little terrorist’s list. “And if it gets her to stop dropping information bombs this week, it’s worth the money. I only want to help. Let me help.”
“But...” She closed her eyes for a moment before looking back at him. “I don’t think I can trust you. This situation with Victoria is delicate. You could really screw it up.”
Okay, that was a slap in the face. He decided her reaction was just another symptom of her obviously shocked state, and carried on regardless.
“I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m growing up. You should know it’s a painful process, but I’m embracing it.” He caressed her cheek with his palm, while his other hand continued to rub her back. “Let me help, Abby. I feel bad and I can’t stand it. I’m not used to guilt and I don’t know what to do with myself. Let me help.”
“You drive me crazy. I’m not even sure I like you.” Still, she relaxed under his touch.
He quirked a smile. “Aye, I know, but you do like my kisses. And you like me to touch you. Don’t you, Abby?” There was a rumble of desire undercutting his words. It was impossible to be around this woman and not feel desire. She was beautiful, and good, and clean and kind and...well, everything Flynn wasn’t. And she owned a closet full of sexy shoes. He was defenceless against her.
Her cheeks burned red as her gaze fell to her knees. “You weren’t supposed to hear that either.”
“I’m glad I did,” he whispered, leaning in closer to her. His thumb stroked over her full bottom lip. “I like kissing you too, Abby.” She shuddered under his touch, making him instantly ravenous to taste her. “Don’t worry about things so much. Go with the flow. Let me help you. Let me touch you. It’s all going to be fine.”
“You’re a dangerous man, Flynn Boyle.” But it was said with resignation. Acceptance. Desire.
He felt heat flare throughout his body. “So I’m told.” His words were a breath against her lips.
And then he was kissing her. Gentle. Soft. Slow. Everything their last kiss hadn’t managed to be. Her taste and scent stole his mind. His arm clamped tight around her. He felt her nails dig into his shoulders and almost wished the flannel shirt was gone so he could feel the bite in his skin. She tilted her head slightly as she sipped at his mouth. Her tongue darted out to taste, a nervous little move. He slanted his mouth over hers, met her tongue with his and kissed her slowly and thoroughly.
Never before had kissing a woman felt so perfect. He could stay like this for hours. Tasting her, listening to her panting breaths and tiny whimpers of need. It was bliss.
“I told you no kissing!” The shout from the door had Abby jerking away from him.
Katy stood with her arms folded and her face like thunder. The look was somewhat ruined by the pink tutu and yellow gumboots.
“No more kissing,” she ordered. “If you kiss him you have to marry him, and I don’t want him as a daddy.”
Even though Flynn didn’t want to be her father either, the words stung. What was wrong with him? He’d make a great dad. Probably. Maybe.
“It was an accident...” Abby began, which was pretty insulting.
“Another accident?” Katy screeched. “Stop having accidents.” She glared at Flynn. “This wasn’t in our deal.” Suddenly her thunderous face turned into a calculating smile and Flynn felt genuine fear. “I’ll let you kiss my Muma if you buy me a pony.”
“Katy!” Abby was on her feet and heading towards her daughter before he fully registered the words.
Flynn laughed as Abby lectured Katy on how she couldn’t sell her mother for a pony. He caught the terrorist’s eyes and gave her a thumbs-up gesture. If a pony was what it took to get his lips on Abby again, he’d gladly buy the kid one.