‘Sleep with someone after just meeting them? Me neither. Ever.’ She hadn’t had so much as a first date with a guy for over two years. ‘You were my first and only. Didn’t work out like I imagined.’
‘And now I have a son.’ He looked as if he was struggling to keep a lid on his emotions. He pressed his lips together and they sat in silence for a few moments, both absorbing this life-changing information. He looked bereft and yet animated at the same time. His fingers rubbed his temple, pushed into thick dark hair that was so much like his son’s, and those eyes—the exact same blue. Lachie had inherited her nose and mouth, but there was so much of him that belonged to his father. Finn shook his head. ‘So what do I do?’
‘About...?’
‘About Lachie. What do you want? What does he want?’
Where to start? Two parents who were available and around and attentive, unlike the childhood she’d had. ‘Lachie’s pretty easy to please. He’s a toddler; he wants attention, ice cream and more of those stickers you gave him yesterday. Tomorrow he’ll want something else.’
‘He likes them? Are they working?’ Finn smiled and his face was transformed, and she was spun right back to yesterday when he’d made Lachie laugh. Right back to that night when he’d done so much more than make her laugh. There was something about him that still intrigued her, attracted her, if she was honest. He was still insanely good-looking and, with the cocky edges rubbed off, even charming.
But she couldn’t trust him, not with her heart or her son’s. She needed to tread carefully. ‘He’s too young for star charts really, you know. It’s probably just novelty value that made him sit still last night.’
‘Oh. It works for other kids.’ Finn looked as if he’d been stung. ‘But you’re probably right. What do I know? I only met him yesterday; I have no idea what would work for him.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it came out.’
‘You know him, I don’t. I have a lot to learn. I don’t know where to start.’
He really did look lost and she felt fleetingly sorry for him. He had a lot to take on board. Her son—their son—was a mini hurricane and Finn had no idea about the chaos a child could cause to his life. That was why she was worried about getting him involved with Lachie at all. How could she risk her son’s happiness by introducing him to a potentially absent father? Finn hadn’t exactly showed ‘stickability’ or reliability, but he had a right to get to know his boy. She was struggling here between her conscience and her son’s needs.
‘You learn as you go. I didn’t know everything the minute he popped out. It was a huge learning curve that doesn’t look like it’s going to flatten out any time soon.’
He shook his head. ‘So how do you see this working? I have to confess I’m struggling here. Only, if I have a son I will do my best by him. No hesitation.’
‘I need to know you’re committed to him. That you’re not going to randomly bounce in and out of his life and hurt him.’
Shock rippled through his gaze. ‘You’ve got a pretty poor opinion of me. I know we don’t know each other very well, but you need to know I wouldn’t do that.’
They didn’t know each other at all, really. They’d made a baby but all she knew was that he was beautiful and completely unreliable. ‘I’m sure you believe you’ll be the best of fathers but I’m not willing to take a risk on you spending time with Lachie if you’re going to disappear when something else comes along.’
His eyes darkened to navy as anger started to rise again. ‘I have a right to get to know him. I’m sure there’s a law or something.’
That was the last thing she needed: some kind of injunction to add to being a working single mum and surviving each day. It was in all their interests to work this through smoothly. ‘I know. I know you have. But let’s just do it slowly.’ Then she could assess his impact on Lachie’s life and flight risk. ‘Baby steps.’
Finn glanced down at his leg and his whole body tensed as if he’d just remembered something. He looked back at her with a bleakness that tugged at her heart and raised so many more questions. ‘I don’t know if I’m even capable of that.’
‘WHAT HAPPENED?’ As Sophie followed the line of his gaze down to his leg, she lost the straightened back and tight jaw and softened into everything he remembered from that long-ago night: concerned, gentle, compassionate. Colour had come back into her cheeks and her eyes were warmer now as she looked back at him. Her head tilted to one side and she smiled. Just enough to make his gut tighten.
It made him want to tell her everything. But he stuck to the medical details; she’d be able to find them easily enough if she looked him up on the health board database. Unethical, but possible, if she felt the need. ‘It wasn’t just the phone that fell down the mountain. I went with it.’
‘Wow. That must have been scary. But you’re alive, that’s something. Thank goodness.’ She looked at his leg again, then at the rest of him and it felt strange to be scrutinised by a woman who’d seen him at his physical best. ‘How badly were you hurt?’
He wondered what she was expecting him to answer when he numbered off his injuries. ‘A broken pelvis. Cracked spine. Dislocated shoulder. Displaced collarbone. Head injury. Frostbite. Hypothermia...’ He waited for all that to sink in, watched her eyes widen. He looked for pity, thought he might have seen it mixed in with her shock. ‘And my pièce de résistance...lower left leg amputation.’
‘Oh,’ she gasped. He searched for revulsion now but didn’t see that. ‘I’m so sorry—that must have been hard to get over.’
Was an understatement. ‘I’m still on that upward climb.’ He armoured himself against the inevitable. ‘So this is where you leave, right? After all, a useless father is worse than none at all.’
She frowned, taken aback. ‘Are you for real? Is that what you think? I’ve had a useless, absent father myself, which is why I don’t want that for my son, and I work with enough broken families to see how much damage half-hearted and selfish parents can wreak on a child’s life. I just want him to have a dad, Finn. One leg or two, I don’t think he’d care so long as he was around on a regular basis.’
But Finn cared, and because of that he was having second thoughts about getting involved at all. What kind of pride would shine in his son’s eyes when his dad lost the fathers’ race at sports day or needed a chair to watch him play football because standing too long hurt too damned much? None.
He felt a tight fist of pain in his gut. And how could he protect his son from hurt? He didn’t exactly have a good track record on that front. If he’d been a better person, been more reliable and less self-focused, his mother might still be alive and he might have had two legs instead of one.
No. Much better that he took some steps back and didn’t get involved. ‘Maybe it would be better if I stayed out of the picture. Stay in touch, obviously. I’m invested here, and I’ll pay what’s necessary and more. I imagine I owe a lot in child support.’
Those caramel eyes burnt hot. ‘What? You think this is about money? You think I want anything from you? I’ve managed by myself and can keep on doing that if you don’t care enough to see him.’
He thought about the little kid he’d met yesterday, the grumpiness that he’d clearly inherited from his dad. The sunny smile he’d got from his mum. Something fierce bloomed in Finn’s chest. ‘I care enough to not see him. I don’t want him to be ashamed. That’s a lot to live with for a child.’
‘For