Page 12 of Born To Be Bad

“Did Alistair buy me a big squirrel, or was that a dream?”

“He did.”

“Oh, good. I thought that was a dream. A happy dream. But I’m happier that it’s real.”

“Alistair’s been so kind to us.” I squeeze his hand. “He’s taking care of everything.”

“That’s good, Ivy. You deserve someone kind. I thought Jeff was kind, but in the end, he wasn’t.”

“Don’t worry about Jeff,” I tell him. “He’s long gone. We’ll never see him again.”

“Poor Jeff. He just loved you too much, that’s all.”

How Jamie could have empathy for that psychopath after what he had put us through is beyond my grasp, but it highlights what a warm human my brother is. My heart swells.

“When will I be able to go home?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Probably in a few days? You’ll stay with Mum and Dad while we look for a new place for you.”

He looks grief-stricken. “I’ll never see my paintings again.”

“That must hurt,” I say. “But we’re going to buy you brand new canvases and all the paint and brushes you need so that you can start again. A fresh start,” I tell him, tears in my eyes. “Won’t that be wonderful?”

His eyes are still sad, but he says, “Yes, Ivy, that will be wonderful.”

“You okay?” asks Alistair as he clocks my tearful face on the way out of Jamie’s room.

I sniff and nod. “Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Shall I go in to say hi?”

“He’s asleep again. Mum will be here soon with hot chocolate for him. Maybe tomorrow.”

“What can I do? Does he need another giant rodent?”

I laugh through my tears. “No. Jamie still loves the rodent. He’s sad about losing his art.”

The guilt is still gut-wrenching. Will it ever dissipate?

Alistair pulls me into a warm hug. “We’re going to set him up with a new home, and the studio of his dreams.”

“You do too much for me. For my family.”

“Nonsense. You deserve it, and I’m happy to deliver.”

My hand travels down to the back of his thigh. “You deliver every time.”

“Ms. Mickelson. If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were flirting.”

“I’m doing nothing of the kind. I’m too hungry and too tired to flirt.”

“What a shame,” says Alistair. “Two weeks into the relationship and the romance is already dead.”

“We had a good run, though,” I say. “It was a good two weeks.”

Alistair pulls a face and shrugs. “I’ve had better.”

I punch his arm, and he grins.

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