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“We’re taking twenty-two players to Italy, sorry, to Spain...
Where are we, Jim?”
Bobby Robson, former English manager
talking about the 1998 World Cup in France
Flynn moved into Abby’s house. She didn’t invite him. He didn’t ask. He kind of hoped she just wouldn’t notice. He’d been there six weeks and she hadn’t mentioned it so far. He figured if he was lucky, he’d be there another fifty years without her bringing it up.
“Are you going to marry my Muma?” Katy asked him over their usual bedtime story.
This one was about Brazil’s spectacular record in world football, followed by their equally spectacular screw-up when they hosted the World Cup. Flynn had moved on from players to teams, in the hope Jonathan’s mother would stop comparing him to every player Katy mentioned to her son.
“Do you want me to marry your mum?” He was surprised to find he was actually quite anxious about the answer.
“It’s okay with me if you want to. I know you like kissing her.”
The relief Flynn felt was a solid lump in his throat. “I think you’re a little obsessed with kissing. Are you and Jonathan kissing at school and not telling me?”
She scrunched up her nose. “Ew, no. I still haven’t decided if I want to marry him or not. He says I have to, but I want to wait and see. I’ll kiss him if I marry him, but I’m not doing it before then.”
“Good plan. Let’s keep it that way with all future boys too.” Flynn thought he heard laughter coming from downstairs. Sometimes Abby still listened in to story time because she thought they were funny. Katy and Flynn kept explaining to the woman that there was nothing funny about football.
“If you get married, can I have a little sister?”
“That’s up to your mum, but there would be no guarantee you’d get a sister. These things are a crapshoot. It could be a boy.”
“Don’t bother, then,” Katy said in disgust. “Just get me a puppy.”
Flynn rolled his eyes and carried on reading about the Brazilian national team.
“Flynn?” Katy said when he was mid-sentence, making him wonder if she was even listening.
“What now?” he whined.
“I think you make a good daddy.”
His heart stopped dead. He swallowed hard.
“I love you, Flynn.” Her eyes were wide and sincere. And damn if she didn’t look exactly like the evil, conniving cat in Shrek.
“I love you too, kid.”
Her whole face lit up and he felt like he’d been handed the world. “If you really love me, you’ll make sure I get a baby sister. Or a puppy.” She batted those eyelashes at him. “You can get me a sister, Flynn. I know you can.”
Flynn found himself wondering if a fertility clinic could get Abby pregnant with the kid of his choice. A girl. For her sister. His eyes narrowed. The evil genius was messing with him.
“Time to go to sleep, monster.” He put the book on the shelf and she did what she did every night. Sat up, opened her arms and waited for her hug. He held her tight to him, this precious little bundle, and hoped Abby would be open to adding to the family. He’d love another ten just like the terrorist—enough for his very own football team.
“Sleep well,” he ordered as he kissed her cheek.
He tucked her into her bubblegum-pink bed in her Pepto-Bismol room and went to find her mother.
She was standing in her office, a look of shock on her face and the phone in her hand.
“What is it?” He rushed to her side.
Her wide eyes blinked at him, filled with disbelief. “That was Millicent’s lawyer. She’s giving up on taking Katy from me. He requested neither Victoria nor I ever contact her again.”
“That is fantastic news.” Flynn swept her up into his arms and spun her around.
“It’s over,” she breathed against his neck.
“About bloody time.”
He kissed her gently, then put her back down at her desk where she’d been working on her designs.
“We should celebrate,” he said.
“What do you suggest?”
“Well, we could celebrate horizontally. Katy wants a sister.” He grinned at her. “I’m worried if we don’t give in to her demands she’ll take the animals hostage until we do.”
Abby pushed away from her desk and smiled up at him. Her business would start trading online in a couple of weeks, and already she was planning her next season line of products.
“Tell her to save up and buy a baby at the supermarket.” Her eyes sparkled.
“That’s exactly the kind of thing I’d say to her.”
“I know. You’re corrupting me. I used to be good and now I’m borderline bad.”
He perched on the edge of her desk, tugging her hand to make her stand between his thighs. She wrapped her arms around his neck without hesitation. His woman.
“Only borderline? I’ll have to work harder.”
She faked a sigh. “I just don’t think you’re up to putting in the effort.”
“You’re right.” He nuzzled the spot behind her ear that made her weak, and was pleased when he felt her weight press into him. His Abby was easy, although he’d never tell her. It was his secret to delight in. “It would take a serious time commitment to corrupt you fully.”
“Twenty-four hours a day,” she mumbled.
Her head fell to the side to give him greater access to her throat. He sucked the spot that made her tremble.
“Aye, it would take years of round-the-clock effort to corrupt you properly.”
“And how do you suggest you start this intensive corruption?” She popped the top button on his favourite blue tartan shirt as she peeked up at him from under those thick lashes of hers.
“I think the only way to do it is to sign on for the long haul.” His heart raced as she froze in his arms. Flynn was done playing. “Marry me, Abby love,” he whispered.
She leaned over, kissed his throat and inhaled him deeply. “Name the time and place. I’ll be there.”
He couldn’t stop a grin. “Is that a yes?”
“Always.” She kissed his lips softly. “It’s always a yes for you, Flynn Boyle, because I love you.”
“I knew it!” He pounded the air. Challenge won. Again. He was a freaking legend.
With a growl of victory, Flynn slanted his mouth over hers and took control of their kiss. And, as always, Abby melted to a puddle of desire in his arms. Just the way he liked her.