She wanted to ask him so badly that words filled her throat and mouth. Is this just a holiday romance? Is that why you don’t want to tell me anything about your family?
But she wasn’t brave enough to find out for sure.
Glancing down at the screen, she saw that it wasn’t a commission—just a message from Lucas telling her that he’d fixed the leak in the workshop and asking if she thought a swing would be a good idea for Sóley’s birthday.
She laid her phone down on the rug, pushing Lucas’s question to the back of her mind. It should be the biggest date in her calendar, but right now she didn’t want to think about her daughter’s first birthday, for that would mean planning for the future—a future in which she would no longer wake to find Ragnar’s warm body beside hers or fall asleep in his arms.
‘All okay?’
Blocking the hollow ache in her stomach, she looked up and nodded. ‘Yes, it’s just Lucas.’ Afraid that he might read her thoughts, she turned towards her daughter. ‘Right, you, let’s get these socks—’
But before she had a chance to finish her sentence Sóley ha
d wriggled off her lap, snatched the phone off the rug and begun crawling across the floor at great speed.
‘You little monkey!’ Laughing, Lottie chased after her, scooping her daughter into her arms and burying her face in her stomach until Sóley was squirming and giggling uncontrollably.
Having retrieved her phone, she lowered her still giggling daughter to the rug. She could feel Sóley straightening her legs, steadying herself as she had been doing for last few weeks, pulling impatiently against her mother’s restraining hands.
‘Okay—you can stand by yourself.’
For a few seconds or more her daughter swayed on the spot, finding her balance, and then she raised her arms, cooing breathlessly towards where her father was kneeling in front of the huge suspended fireplace.
Watching him toss in a couple of logs, Lottie felt her heart begin to pound.
‘Ragnar...’ She spoke his name softly, and as he turned towards her, her eyes met his and she smiled. ‘She wants you,’ she prompted.
He started to get up, but she shook her head. ‘No, say her name.’
A flicker of understanding passed across his face and he stayed crouched down, his eyes fixed on his daughter as Lottie lifted her phone.
‘Sóley.’
His voice was raw-sounding, and she could tell that he was struggling to hold on to his composure.
‘Sóley, come to Daddy.’ He hesitated and then repeated himself in Icelandic.
Holding her breath, Lottie watched as Sóley teetered towards his outstretched hands, taking one wobbly step after another like a tiny astronaut, and then she stopped, weaving unsteadily on the rug. And as she tipped forward he caught her in his arms.
Lottie switched off her phone camera, tears burning her eyes as Ragnar got unsteadily to his feet, still holding his daughter close, pressing his face into her loose blonde curls. And then suddenly he was walking across the room and pulling her into his arms, pulling her close.
Burying her wet face against his shoulder, still clutching her phone, she breathed out unsteadily.
‘Thank you,’ he said softly.
Her hands gripped his sweater. ‘For what?’
‘Her first steps.’
She felt his emotion in her own chest. ‘I’m just sorry it took me so long to let you be her father, and for being so wrapped up in myself. I should have asked you about your family before—especially after burdening you with what happened with my father—’
His arms tightened around her. ‘You didn’t burden me with anything. I’m glad you told me. And, just for the record, I think your father made the biggest mistake of his life giving up the chance to know you. You’re an incredible person, Lottie.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not. I’ve been selfish and self-absorbed.’
‘And I’ve been overbearing and manipulative and cold-blooded.’ His eyes were gleaming, but his voice was gentle.
Recognising her own words, she smiled. ‘Did I say that?’