Good Girl Gone Plaid(27)
“That’s quite sweet.” And it was. He didn’t have much experience with kids—none of his siblings had any yet. But he knew when the time came, he could probably adapt slowly to the uncle role. “What did you say her name was?”
“I didn’t, but it’s Emily.”
“Pretty. How old is she?”
“She’s eight. Almost nine.” Sarah tucked her phone back into her purse. “I’m sorry, now what were you saying before she called? Something about payment for my car?”
“Ah yes, I was.” What the hell had he been about to offer? “Why don’t you just bake us muffins or something.”
The look Sarah threw at him could’ve frozen ice. “I’m sorry? Bake muffins?”
“Er, you don’t have to. It was just a suggestion. You weren’t overtly fond of the kissing one—”
“I’m not. No more kisses.” Her mouth flattened into a line of determination.
He laughed softly and arched a brow. “I think you enjoyed it, doll. And before you try to claim otherwise, remember I was there when you were riding out an orgasm on my finger.”
Her choked gasp coincided with the widening of her eyes. “You’re awful. You had to say that? Really?”
His laugh turned to a belly one now. Loud and resounding in the room. “It’d be more unnatural if I didn’t.”
“Well then get a filter for your thoughts. Most people have one.”
“Hmm. I’ll keep it in mind, but it’s not quite as fun.” He sobered some and lifted his gaze to hers again. “But I truly don’t need your money, Sarah. Keep it. I’ll do this as a favor.”
“I don’t want any favors from you.”
“Well you’ve got one anyway. You don’t really need to bake muffins. I was taking the piss out of you.”
“What?” Her brows furrowed.
“Sorry, I’ll Americanize that for you since you clearly need the reminder on the phrase. I was messing with you.”
She made another harrumph.
“You said you had to work. What do you do for a living? It obviously travels well.”
“I’m a graphic designer. Most of my business is online.”
“And it pays shite?”
“No, it pays pretty good when the business is coming in.”
He paused, taking another sip of wine, before asking, “But you’re broke?”
“Not usually. It’s the legal fees from the divorce, and I’ve had to drop some clients because of the time it’s been taking up.” She shook her head and gestured around the house. “This time here will actually be good for me. I’m able to take on more clients—if I can get them. I’m still new. I only just completed college.”
“Which you’re also paying off?”
“Yes.”
“Understood.” Why had she’d waited so long after high school? Had getting married and having a kid slowed that dream down?
Aleck had hounded him to go to college and get a degree after graduation. Told him to pull his head out of his arse and stop crying over a woman and focus on his life. On his future.
And so he had. Granted, school had been spread out because he’d had to serve a tiny stint in prison, but he’d eventually graduated with a degree in business.
Maybe Sarah had attended college for a bit and then dropped out because she’d become pregnant.
The thought of Sarah with another man—a husband who’d given her a child—made the wine turn bitter in his belly.
He’d mastered the ability to turn his thoughts from Sarah when they appeared. And forget thinking about Sarah and a husband. Literally, he couldn’t think about the reality of it without feeling ill—even a bit violent toward the other man, actually.
He set his wine down on the coffee table next to the couch and stood.
“I should go.
“A fabulous idea,” she said over brightly. “Thanks for dropping by, Ian.”
“Before I do, though, I wanted to warn you about MacGregor.”
She tilted her head, though he saw the flicker of awareness in her eyes. “MacGregor?”
“The man you saw me speaking to in my office?”
“Ah, yes.”
Judgment clouded her gaze now, and he knew she was again finding his choice in company disappointing. He couldn’t blame her. It didn’t matter, though, this was too important. This was about keeping her safe.
“Stay away from him,” he said with quiet authority. “Please.”
She looked skeptical and gave a nervous laugh. “It’s not as if I planned to go have a beer and burger with the guy. He’s not my type in the least bit.”