Unseen Messages

His gaze found mine again. “You don’t have to be scared of me or of being together...promise me you won’t keep us apart.”

There was so much to say. So much to admit and so much apologising to do.

But now was not the place.

Tasting him on my lower lip, I murmured, “Tonight. Can we go somewhere and talk.”

A half-smile danced across his face. “Talk?”

“Talk...for now.” I blushed. “But who knows what will happen when I get sick of speaking.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. It’s a date.”

A date.

A delighted shiver ran down my spine.

I hadn’t been on a date in forever. And now, I had one with the sexiest, most amazing man I’d ever met.

I’m beyond lucky.

Once again, I found myself slipping. After tossing my bottled message into the sea, I’d noted where and for how long I forgot that this existence was only temporary and not something I wanted.

I didn’t know if I should be happy or sad that I had more moments of contentedness (from watching Pippa playing with the broken deck chair, Conner unravelling the fishing net, and Galloway patching up the roof while shirtless) than I ever did while staring out to sea, waiting for a boat or plane (a habit we all did but somehow, had become less poignant and more inconvenient) to find us.

Dropping his eyes, Galloway whispered, so as not to wake Pippa, “What’s wrong? Nightmare?”

White-blonde hair fell over my eye as I looked down at her. “It was her birthday yesterday.”

The pain and anguish on his face stitched up my heart until it burst with blood-soaked strings.

“Bloody hell. I remember how important birthdays were at that age. God, we royally screwed up.”

We.

As in...us...her parents.

I knew she wasn’t ours biologically, but fate had given her to us. She was ours now. Conner, too. No matter what happened, I wouldn’t let them go.

Galloway ran a hand over his face, shedding any remaining sleepiness. “We’ll fix it.”

“How?” I stroked her hair, never breaking the trance I’d put her in. “We don’t have any presents, no cake, no friends to invite.”

He stood to his tall height, ideas blazing in his eyes. “Leave it to me.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’ll fix this.” He left without another word, slipping wordlessly into the dawn.

Chapter Forty-Four

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G A L L O W A Y

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I WAS AN only child, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how to throw a party.

Back in the day, I was the quiet kid at school but the one everyone turned up to his shindigs. My parents had always encouraged my popularity by ensuring I had brothers and sisters in the form of friends, even though they’d tried for another child and failed.

And I didn’t take their efforts for granted.

I hosted like a king.

I mastered the art of small talk.

I bridged the gap between cliquey groups and hard-to-break gangs.

But that was before I went to prison. The day the lock slammed shut, my willingness to reach out to others and find friendly ground disappeared.

I thought I’d lost the desire forever. But that was before Estelle crashed into my life (literally).

Glancing at the pinking sky, I estimated I had a couple of hours before sunup. Estelle would keep the kids in bed and I would do my best to give Pippa the best eighth birthday she could ever have.

.............................

Sweat ran down my naked back as I ducked into the hut and froze at the heart-twisting sight of Estelle fast asleep wrapped around Pippa while Conner slept at the bottom of his sister’s bed like a small tabby cat.

Despite puberty hitting and Conner’s hormone swings (not to mention the body odour as testosterone kicked in) he was still a caring brother who would give anything to protect his flesh and blood.

Just like I’ll do anything to protect Estelle.

Chugging some water from one of our always-full bottles, I cleared my throat.

One by one, three pairs of eyes opened, harpooning my chest and ensuring I would never be free of these people.

Clapping my hands, I smiled at Pippa. “Can the birthday girl please follow me? I think there might be a surprise for her outside.”

Instantly, Pippa's tanned, skinny face lit up like a damn survival flare (if only we had one of those).

She leapt from Estelle’s embrace and charged toward me. “Really? What?”

“You’ll have to wait and see, impatient Pippi.” I wrapped my arms around her, scooped her up, and carried her outside.

“What is it? Where?” She bounced in my arms.

The extra weight and uncoordinated balance hurt my barely-healed bones. My shin was the one part that felt semi-ordinary. The bone had a bump but it was strong. My foot was still mottled with bruising, but at least, the metacarpals had healed enough to wriggle my toes (ignoring the ache, of course).

However, my ankle was a bitch.

It’d knitted together but not correctly. It wasn’t perfectly straight and the joint where my leg became my foot wasn’t normal. I didn’t let Estelle know how badly it hurt to have something so broken—not just temporarily but permanently.

I could walk but not run. I could move but never fly.

I was damaged goods.

But despite the ache every time I put weight on it, I wouldn’t put Pippa down for all the diamonds in the world.