Patrick ran his hand over the back of his neck. Alfie was a bright boy and any moment now he was going to put two and two together. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with his son’s maths. ‘That’s…great.’
‘My Dad’s an obstetrician,’ Alfie said proudly. ‘You guys can talk about babies if you like. I don’t mind.’
Patrick winced. He had a feeling that the subject of babies was going to be right at the top of their list of conversation topics.
What were her plans?
Was she upset about being pregnant?
Was that why she kept sending him angry looks?
‘Tell her she has to stay, Dad.’
Patrick made two mugs of tea. If she was pregnant then she’d be staying a long time. Was that what she wanted? Was that what he wanted?
No. Definitely not. A baby was not a reason to get married. He’d learned that the hard way. There were other ways of being responsible. ‘Hayley and I need to talk in private, Alfie.’ He decided that there was no point in postponing the inevitable. ‘I’d like you to take Posy and go and watch a cartoon or something.’
‘I’ve seen all the cartoons on television.’ Alfie didn’t budge. ‘It’s Christmas Eve. And Hayley doesn’t have anywhere else to go because she thought she was going to be living here. We’ve got plenty of space—I don’t understand why you want her to go.’
Because he felt suffocated, trapped—back in the same place he’d been before. Patrick looked at his son—the son he was going to hurt—his mind already racing forward, planning how he was going to break the news that there was going to be another child in their family. ‘It’s complicated, Alfie.’
‘You’re making me feel bad because this is all my fault!’ The child’s eyes shone with tears. ‘I didn’t know it was going to turn out like this. I thought you’d be really grateful that you didn’t have to cook the turkey by yourself. I was just trying to help!’ Bursting into tears, he stormed out
of the room and Posy ran after him, trailing her velvet comforter behind her.
Hayley made a distressed sound. ‘Go after him.’ Troubled, she turned to Patrick. ‘Just go after him. I’ll call myself a taxi and sort something out. I shouldn’t have come.’ Her phone was in her hand again and Patrick walked over to her.
‘Wait—put the phone away, Hayley…’ The scent of her hair wound itself around his senses and his eyes dropped to her mouth, everything he’d been intending to say evaporating from his mind. A rush of heat poured through his body and he knew he had to get to the point before he did something that complicated matters even further. ‘Tell me why you’re here.’
‘Because everyone does stupid things at least once in their life and this was my moment,’ she muttered. ‘Don’t worry about it. Go to your child, Patrick.’
Don’t worry about it?
‘Alfie will be all right for a minute,’ he said roughly. ‘We have things to talk about.’ Even while his brain was warning him that this was a big mistake, his body was reacting to her presence. He wanted to slide his hands into her damp, silky hair—he wanted to press his mouth to those rosy lips.
Reminding himself that those impulses were the reason he was in his current mess, Patrick ruthlessly reined in his baser instincts. ‘You came over here to see me, and…I know it’s difficult, but just tell me the truth. Tell me whatever it is you came to tell me.’
She must be dreading telling him—afraid of his reaction.
And he braced himself not to overreact, reminding himself that this must have been hard for her. She must be worried sick.
But even while he was acknowledging her emotions, he was even more acutely aware of his own. He was angry with himself. And frustrated. And fiercely determined that this time he was going to do the right thing. And that was not going to include marriage.
‘I didn’t come here to tell you anything. I just thought it was time for a change and I might as well…’ Her voice tailed off and she blushed scarlet. ‘All right, yes. I came to find you. Could you stop looking at me like that? This is embarrassing enough without you studying me as though you’re a prosecution lawyer or something.’ Her whole body was shivering and Patrick sighed and grabbed his heavy coat from the back of the door. He peeled off her damp coat in a decisive movement and placed the dry one around her shoulders. It swamped her, of course, because she was so much smaller than he was, and that evidence of her vulnerability pricked his conscience.
‘I understand that this is difficult—’ he fought back the urge to just demand the truth ‘—but you obviously have something to say to me and I really think it would be better for both of us if you just came right out and said it.’
He wanted to know what he was dealing with. They needed to talk dates, make plans—preferably before his children lost interest in television.
‘All right. I’ll say it.’ She looked up at him, her dark hair falling in damp curls over his coat, a spark in her eyes. ‘I think you’re quite possibly the biggest snake and the most horribly insensitive man I’ve ever met.
Stunned, Patrick stared at her. ‘Sorry?’
‘I said you’re a snake. And horribly insensitive. And you’re a hypocrite, of course.’ She seemed to gain confidence as she talked. ‘And two-faced because you’re pretending to be such a great father but you’re obviously sleeping with every woman who takes your fancy even if her lipstick is hideous, which means you also don’t have much taste and that makes it even worse—’
‘Hayley—’
‘And you may be seriously good-looking and have a fit body—a very fit body, actually…’ her eyes slid to his shoulders before she looked away quickly ‘…and be super-intelligent, and obviously quite staggeringly talented in bed, but that doesn’t mean you can just abandon morals and common decency and—’