“But I want to tell you my secret,” Katy whined.
“I keep telling you, kid. Tell your secrets to your mum. That’s what mums are for. You don’t tell secrets to the guy who lives next door. Don’t you know anything?”
Abby blinked back tears as she grinned at Flynn’s admonishment.
“I’m telling you my secret and you can’t stop me.” She rushed the words before Flynn stopped her again, or walked away. “I moved Muma’s stuff, and hid things so she would have to call the police. I wanted her to see Uncle Mattie. I thought if he saw she needed a policeman he’d move in here and marry her.”
Tears slid down Abby’s cheeks. For months she’d thought she was losing her mind. Things had moved from where she’d left them. She’d even thought someone was stealing from her, and her business. And it turned out it was her matchmaking baby. No wonder it’d stopped when Matt married Jena.
“Marriage doesn’t work that way, kid. Grownups need to fall in love with each other. You can’t make it happen. Your mum will find someone she likes one day. And if he’s a nice guy she’ll fall in love with him and they’ll get married.”
“If you know any nice guys can you tell me? I want to find one for my Muma. She wouldn’t be so sad all the time if there was a daddy around here to help her.” There was silence for a minute. “Jonathan has a daddy. He takes Jonathan to the park. He makes Jonathan’s mum laugh.”
“If he’s so great, why does Jonathan’s mum have a thing for David Beckham?”
Abby laughed through her tears.
“Will you look for a man for my mum?” Katy persisted. “A good one.”
“Whatever it takes to make you go to sleep.”
“I have a list of things a daddy needs to be able to do.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“You can’t do any of them,” Katy said. “I checked.”
“I can’t even begin to express my relief. Now, I’m going downstairs. This conversation is hurting my head.”
“Don’t tell my Muma my secret.”
“I will if she asks. Little kids shouldn’t have secrets from their mums. If they do their heads explode and it makes a mess of the walls.”
Abby heard a door shut and Flynn stomp down the stairs. She wiped her eyes on the back of her hands, but they still felt wet. So she splashed her face with cold water and patted it with the purple hand towel she kept on a hook by the fridge. She fought to put Katy’s words out of her mind until she was alone. Until it was safe to think about her daughter’s need for a father who was long gone. A father who would have adored her and taken her to the park. And a husband who was a good man and never failed to make her laugh.
Flynn’s chest ached from the conversation that would not end. He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt like he was in pain. Maybe it was the fact Katy thought Matt would make a good father and he wouldn’t. There was no way his cousin would beat him in the fatherhood stakes. When the time came, Flynn would be a great dad. He’d be the freaking cup winner of fathers. He’d beat Matt’s ass at fatherhood any day of the week.
When Katy had gotten all doe-eyed and terminally cute, Flynn had shut it right down. Football he could discuss—and he would be discussing it at length, seeing as Katy didn’t have a freaking clue about the sport—but emotional need? He wasn’t equipped for that. What the hell did you say to a five-year-old so desperate for a dad she tried to set her mum up with Matt? Matt? Surely there were better options.
Abby was covering leftovers with cling film when Flynn entered the kitchen. Her eyes were puffy and red. He glanced at the baby monitor on the counter. He didn’t need his brother’s genius IQ to figure out Abby had heard everything her kid said. Yet again, he was chest deep in the emotional world of the McKenzie females. He wondered for a second if he was supposed to be polite and pretend he didn’t notice she’d been crying. Then he remembered he was Flynn Boyle. He might be trying to be good, but it didn’t mean he needed a complete personality overhaul.
“I’d cry too if I heard she was trying to set me up with Matt.”
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Abby burst out laughing, but a tear ran down her cheek. As her laughter turned to sobs, he gave into his need to comfort her. He cursed under his breath and crossed the room to pull her into his arms.
“I like this shirt,” he said against her hair. “Try not to get snot on it.”
She let out another strangled chuckle that turned into a sob. Flynn held her tight as he stroked her back. Strangely, holding Abby, comforting her, made the pain emanating from the exposed space within him ease. At last her sobbing tapered off. She hiccupped and looked up at him, still in his arms.
“I’m sorry?” she said.
He grinned. “You don’t sound very sure.”
Her smile was rueful. “I’m not sure if I really am. I appreciate you comforting me while I had a complete meltdown.”
“You call this a complete meltdown? Sugar, you haven’t seen a Premier League player lose his cool in the final when the referee makes a bad call. That’s a meltdown. This is just a little emotional seepage.”