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“Football is a simple game; twenty-two men chase a ball for ninety minutes, and at the end, the Germans win.”
Gary Lineker, former player for England’s national team
Abby was making animal-shaped pancakes for breakfast when a huge rumble shook the house. For a second she panicked, thinking there was another problem with the mine. The last time the earth shook, the mine had collapsed—taking her business with it. She rushed to the front door, threw it open and tripped over her feet at the sight.
There were trucks, diggers and an assortment of equipment heading to the spot in her garden that lay beside Flynn’s land. And standing beside their shared fence was Flynn. Arms waving directions to the trucks. A guy in work gear stood beside him holding a large sheet of paper and a clipboard. Another guy was pinning little sticks into the ground and stringing a line between them.
Abby felt steam come out of her ears as she stalked towards them, with Katy on her heels.
“What’s going on?” she demanded as soon as she was within speaking distance. “Who are these people? Why are they on my property? What are you up to?”
“Surprise!” Flynn threw his arms wide.
He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt in army green, over a pair of grey cargo shorts that came to his knees. The shirt was tight across his chest, which was more than a little distracting. It was criminal he could look so good while being so unreasonable. Everything—his intense eyes, sexy grin and broad shoulders—made her mouth water. And distracted her from her anger towards him. She narrowed her eyes at him. Did he know he had such power over her? Oh my goodness, she hoped not. The man would be a devil with it.
“Surprise?” She stopped in front of him, put her hands on her hips and glared.
“Yes. Surprise?” Katy copied her action while standing at her side. In her tiger onesie and bunny slippers, she managed to undermine Abby’s dramatic gesture. As confirmed by the chuckles of the watching men.
“I’m giving you a pool, remember?” Flynn pointed to the guy measuring out the area. “Ta-da.”
Abby started to count to ten. One, two... Oh, to hell with it. “You’re doing what?” Yes, it was a shriek. She wasn’t proud of it, but there was no way she could have stopped it. “I thought the pool comment was a joke.” Was he out of his mind? “Are you out of your mind? You can’t give a kid a pool. Especially not without talking to her mother about it first. And this is Scotland.” She pointed at the ground. “That’s an outdoor pool, which means the weather will be warm enough for it to be used maybe four days a year.” Okay, she was shouting now. She needed to calm down.
“It’s top of the line,” the idiot said. “It’s heated. There’s a Jacuzzi section. An automatic cover. The whole shebang. We’ll be able to use it year round.”
“In the rain? The snow? Have you thought about this at all?”
He glanced at the guy beside him. “Bob here says it’ll be fine. He’s the expert.”
“Bob probably just wants the business.” She gave the man a tight smile and pretended she hadn’t just called him a liar. “No offence, Bob.”
He didn’t seem offended. From his smile, he seemed to be entertained.
“Maybe we should build an indoor pool?” Flynn said to Bob.
Abby wanted to scream. “Not on my property, you aren’t. Who’s going to pay the huge monthly bills for heating and maintaining a top of the line pool?”
He actually had to think about it. Honestly!
“I guess I’ll take care of the running costs, since it’s my gift to the kid.”
Enough of this. She folded her arms. “Send them away. Stop this now. You can’t give a child a pool. I’m putting my foot down. Enough is enough.”
“Abby, Abby, Abby,” Flynn said with a shake of his head. “Any parent worth their salt knows you don’t make promises to kids unless you intend to keep them. Otherwise it breaks their wee hearts and sets them up for a lifetime of dealing with trust issues. Do you want that for your child? Now, tell me honestly, do you?” He actually batted his eyelashes at her, while a smile quirked at his lips. “I need to give the kid her pool. I promised.”
Was it wrong that she wanted to superglue those damn eyes shut? And maybe his mouth too? Definitely his mouth. His mouth was the part of him that caused the most trouble.
“Yay, I’m getting a pool! I can’t believe I’m getting a pool,” the traitor at her side yelled—as though she hadn’t arranged the whole thing. She squealed loudly and did an excited dance.
“I don’t know why you sound surprised, kid.” Flynn seemed genuinely perplexed. “You were the one who demanded a pool.”
“I didn’t think you’d give me one.” Katy rolled her eyes but couldn’t contain her glee. “I thought if you did I’d get one of those kids’ pools. Not this. This is gonna be a real pool. Isn’t it?” She looked up at him, suddenly uncertain. “Is it going to be a real pool, Flynn?”
Abby watched as Flynn’s eyes warmed before he rolled them dramatically, in an imitation of Katy. He awkwardly patted her head, the way someone else would pat a strange dog.
“Yeah, it’s going to be a real pool, you numpty. We can’t swim in a kids’ pool. And by we, I mean us separately. You swim at your time. I’ll swim at mine. You can swim, right?” Flynn looked up at Abby. “Can she swim? Is she old enough? How old are kids when they learn to swim?”
Abby shook her head. “Yes, she can swim. No, she shouldn’t be around a pool unsupervised. That’s not the point. The point is, I don’t want a pool.” She turned to Bob. “We can’t accept this. I’m sorry, but you have to leave. I don’t give you permission to put in a pool.”
The guy looked unsure. His eyes shifted to Flynn.
“Give me a minute, Bob,” Flynn said.
He walked the few steps to Abby, threw his arm around her shoulders and led her away from the work crew. As though this was his property and he had a say in what happened on it.
“Abby, sugar, give the kid her pool.” He spoke softly against her ear.
“Not going to happen, Flynn. Make them pack up. This is worse than the money you gave her. You can’t give a five-year-old a pool just because she asked for one.”
Flynn’s thumb caressed her shoulder, momentarily distracting her. “I’m not giving her a pool. This isn’t a gift. It’s a deal. With a miniature terrorist organisation.” He leaned into her, the heat of his body having a strange effect on her ability to breathe. “This is the cost of her help. The kid has been through a lot. All she wants is a pool. Give the kid a pool, Abby.”
For a moment she swayed towards him, her focus on those luscious lips of his before she caught herself. What was she doing? His insanity was contagious. She pushed away from him and folded her arms over her navy twinset. Yes. Twinset. She didn’t care what it said about her, she liked wearing them.
“I’m not bribing my daughter with a pool, Flynn.”
“It will be great. We can all use it.”
“You want a pool, put one on your property. And make sure it’s properly fenced. And has a roof to keep out the snow. But there is no way you’re giving my five-year-old a pool. I don’t care what deal you made with her. She’s five. She can’t even tie her own shoelaces, let alone understand what she’s asking for. This is not happening.”
Flynn studied her face for a moment before nodding. She must have looked as immovable on the topic as she felt, because he caved. She didn’t know whether to sigh with relief of pump the air with joy. He nodded once before walking back to the men.
“Change of plans. We’re moving the pool over the fence. Same size, just a few feet that-a-way.” He pointed at his land. “And we’re going to make it an indoor pool. Make sure there’s a door on this side for Abby and her daughter. They’ll need their own private entrance, as I have no problem sharing my pool with them.” He grinned at her.
She narrowed her eyes.
The men set about moving their equipment to the other side of the fence as Katy ran up to Flynn. “If you put it over there it won’t be my pool. And you promised me a pool.”
“You didn’t specify where the pool would be. It could be anywhere. This is still your pool. It will just sit on the other side of the fence. We’ll make a sign. We’ll call it Katy’s Pool. Good enough for you, kid?”
Katy tapped her finger to her chin as she considered his offer. “Can the pool building be pink?”
“No.”
“Can the pool be pink?”
“No.”
“What about some pink blow-up stuff to put in the pool?”
“That we can do.”
“Then it’s okay for the pool to move,” Katy said solemnly.
Abby felt a headache start. She stepped towards her neighbour. “This isn’t what I meant. I told you I didn’t want a pool. I told you that you can’t give Katy a pool.”
“And I’m doing exactly what you said. It’s my pool, on my property and I’m calling it Katy’s Pool.” He reached out and high-fived Katy, who was still jumping up and down with excitement.
The noise of a car roaring up the drive stopped the argument. Her heart sank when she saw it was her sister, back for another round of Prove Abby is a Terrible Mother. She didn’t have enough brain space to deal with all of this.
“You’re undermining me, Flynn Boyle, and I’m not happy about it. We’re going to have a long talk about this later.” She made the words a threat.
He seemed unaffected. “Looking forward to it, sugar.”
“Abby.” Victoria’s icy voice preceded her as she strode towards them. “What’s this?”
Abby sighed—quietly, she hoped.
“I’m putting in a pool,” Flynn said. “For physio. Nothing better than swimming to recover from an injury. The water takes the strain off the joints.”
Victoria’s cold gaze made Abby squirm, even when it was directed at Flynn. “And this pool of yours is going to be in Abby’s garden?”
“Bit of a mix-up with the work crew.” Flynn smiled. “It’s all sorted now.” He dismissed Victoria with a nod before winking at Abby. “Catch you later, sugar.”
“Flynn,” Katy shouted as she ran up to them. “Don’t forget my bedtime story. You promised.”
Abby gaped at her daughter. Katy’s lips were set in a determined pout. And from the pained look on Flynn’s face, there was no way he wanted to read to her at bedtime. She almost grinned. Let him suffer. He deserved it.
“You promised you’d do it every night this week and you haven’t even read to me once,” Katy pointed out.
“Yes, Flynn.” Abby couldn’t resist. “We both know how important it is to keep our promises to children. We wouldn’t want her to grow up with trust issues, now would we?”
Flynn growled at Abby. “Fine. But I’m picking the book. We’re having none of that pink princess rubbish.”
With one last frown, he strode away, barely limping, which told her his leg wasn’t so bad today. He really should use his crutches more. Abby shook away the thought. He was a grown man. He could take care of himself. She bit her lip. Maybe. She sighed. He most definitely couldn’t look after himself. She made a mental note to talk to him about the crutches when she next saw him. If the man wanted to recover, he’d better use the things.
“Abby?” Victoria’s voice made her realise she was staring at Flynn’s rear.
She blushed as she turned to her sister. “Tea?” she said lightly.
Without waiting for Victoria’s answer, she called for Katy and headed to her house.
♦♦♦
Flynn wished there was an AA-type group for guys who were trying to behave. He could see it now, him at the front of a room: “Hi, my name is Flynn. It’s been forty-eight hours since I last behaved like an asshole.” And then they’d all shout, “Hello, Flynn.” Yeah, he definitely needed a support group. He was trying hard here. Being good was exhausting—and boring. Plus, he felt he wasn’t getting enough credit. Actually, any credit.
He’d hired a cleaning crew to sort the place out. He’d started buttoning his shirts. He was showering every day. He’d sent everyone away, except the camera crew that he couldn’t get rid of no matter what he did. He’d sat down for a very serious interview with a magazine, where he answered dumb questions like: “What do you find most attractive in a woman?” He’d made sure his answer was mature and politically correct, even though what he wanted to do was sneer and say a talent with her tongue. Because, seriously, would it hurt someone to ask him a decent bloody question?
On top of all this, he’d been lying low. Resting his leg. Watching TV. Being bored out of his mind in an effort to please everyone around him. And no one noticed. Would it kill his family to tell him he was doing well? To give him some encouragement? A pat on the back, maybe?
“Hey, you in there?” There was a thump at his door.
Flynn turned to see his cousin Claire stick her head in. She smiled when she saw him. Claire had always had a soft heart, and for a minute Flynn thought she’d come to give him some praise. He was wrong.
“Got a minute?” she said.
“For you? Never.”
She ignored him and chewed her bottom lip. “I’ve got something for you. It’s outside.”
Now Flynn was curious. He followed her out of the RV and stopped in his tracks at the sight of Grunt holding a small fluffy goat against his chest. His overly muscled arms made the goat seem tiny. The guy had to be taking steroids, because that kind of bulk was not normal.
“You got me a goat?” He stared between the goat and his cousin.
She shuffled in place. “Someone gave it to the kindy as a pet, but it’s getting too wild with the children and we can’t keep it. I thought you could keep it here.” She batted her eyelashes at him, and Flynn wondered if that crap worked on her fiancé.
“You’re giving me a goat?” Aye, it wasn’t sinking in.
The goat bleated.
“Well.” Claire toed the grass. “Harry said you were collecting pets now. He said you had a duck. We thought with all your space, you wouldn’t mind having a goat too.”
Bloody Harry. Flynn was going to kill his brother. “I don’t have a pet duck.”
Claire gave him a look that said she knew otherwise. “If I go in there, will I find a duck in the bathroom?”
“It’s sick. I’m looking after it. The nearest vet is in Fort William. It isn’t a pet. As soon as it’s better, I’ll put her back in the stream.”
“Have you named her?” Claire looked like she wanted to laugh.
“Hell no, I haven’t named her.”
“Harry said you called her Daisy and bought her a pink bow.”
“There’s a good chance you had your last conversation with Harry. I hope you said goodbye. His life is about to end.”
Claire grinned widely. “Okay, I believe you. Harry was wrong. You don’t have a pet duck. But can you take the goat? At least until we find another home for her. You’re the only one with enough space. She’s no trouble at all. Honest.”
Flynn eyed the goat sceptically. He knew nothing about goats. He could see another evening Googling animal care in his future. He let out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll keep the goat. But you better look for another home. This is temporary.”
“You’re the best.” Claire bounced in front of him before giving him a kiss on the cheek.
He wasn’t sure about being the best, but he was definitely the most gullible. Claire nodded to a spot behind Flynn and he felt the hair on his neck jump to attention.
“Will the goat be on TV?” she said.
Yeah, his neck had nailed it. The camera crew were back. They’d wandered off to interview people at Rangers Football Club in Glasgow, to fill in some backstory for the documentary. He’d been hoping they’d forget to wander back.
“Let the goat free, baby,” Claire said to Grunt.
The big buy opened his arms and dropped the goat.
“Not like that,” Claire shouted. She wrapped her arms around the animal and cooed in its ear. “Poor baby. It’s okay.”
Flynn shared a look of bewilderment with Grunt. It was their first male bonding moment. Flynn felt like they should mark the occasion with beer or something.
“Done here,” Grunt said.
Guess beer was out, then. Claire blathered instructions about goat care as Grunt grabbed her hand and dragged her back to his SUV. A minute later Flynn was left standing in a field with a camera crew and a strange goat.
The goat bleated at him. She then headed for the lounger and proceeded to eat the padding off the seat. Flynn pretended he didn’t see anything and went back into his van.
As soon as he stepped inside, the duck let out a loud protest quack.
Flynn put his hands on his hips and hung his head.
This was his life. And people wondered why he acted out.
There was another knock at his door, this one a lot more timid than the last. With a heavy sigh, Flynn went to open it. The shy assistant to the producer stood staring at her shoes. Flynn felt for the woman. She was always taking crap from the weasel, probably because she was the only member of the crew with a conscience.
“What’s up, honey?” He remembered the Ball Babe dig about him not bothering to learn their names and felt bad. “What’s your name again?”
She was startled by the question, as though she didn’t rate him knowing her name. It made him feel even more like a self-obsessed asshole than he’d felt before.
“Julia,” she whispered.
“Well, Julia, what can I do for you?” Flynn plastered a charming smile on his face, even though the woman was still staring at her feet.
“It’s time for your interview.”
“Interview?” He was trying his best to avoid the documentary crew—why would he want to take part in an interview?
“Your agent spoke to my producer. They arranged for a formal session where you would answer questions about your career.” Wide eyes looked up at him. They were pretty eyes, but they weren’t stunning. Not like Abby’s were. “Originally the questions were going to be seeded into a more relaxed situation. As though you were conversing with friends as part of your everyday life. But Mr Flannigan is getting a little impatient. So your agent thought a formal interview might be better. We’re setting up for it now.”
Flynn clenched his jaw. It was round about now the old Flynn would lose his temper, shout at the girl, shout at the producer, then call up his agent and shout at him too. But he was the new Flynn. He was being mature. Rage bubbled inside him, but he swallowed it down.
“I’ll get changed and meet you outside.” The words almost stuck in his throat.
Julia blinked hard. “You’re going to do it? Without a fight?”
It was a direct hit. Flynn smiled at her. “Contrary to popular belief, honey, I’m not always a dick.”
She giggled, then flushed red when she realised she’d let a laugh slip.
“Go on. I’ll be out soon. Can’t do a formal interview in a T-shirt. Got to get into a suit.”
“I don’t think you need to—”
He held up a hand to stop her. “I know press calls, honey. I’m wearing a suit.” A suit was armour in these situations. There was no way he was letting the weasel pry into his head without armour.
She nodded, mumbled something, then left. Keeping a tight rein on his fury, Flynn went to retrieve his phone so he could chew out his agent. He got two steps before he remembered he’d killed the phone after the last talk with his agent. He stared at the ceiling and tried to slow his breathing.
Being good was so bloody hard.