Page 13 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 1-4

He’d put Sadie’s reluctance to be found and lack of online presence and any obvious family down to something that she could worry about when she got her memory back. He’d been able to empathise with her wanting to escape from her family, if that was the case.

As the days had passed she’d recovered from her injury in every other way except for her memory. She’d never moved back into her studio apartment. Finding out about her past had become less and less of a priority.

She’d never left Quin’s side during those early days of recuperation. They’d become entwined. They’d fallen in love. And the outside world had fallen away...

Sadie laughed now—a low chuckle, bringing Quin out of the past. He shook his head, angry with himself for letting those memories intrude. He hadn’t loved her. It had been infatuation borne out of lust.

He walked to the door of Sol’s room and stopped. Sadie was sitting cross-legged on the floor and looking up at Sol, who was standing on his bed, pointing to a poster of his current football hero. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and her hair was pulled up into a loose knot on her head, tendrils falling around her face. Quin was once again struck by her natural beauty.

Sol was saying, ‘Someday I’m going to be even better than him!’

Sadie smiled. ‘I saw the goal posts in the garden—you must practise a lot.’

Sol saw Quin and jumped off the bed. He came straight over, launching himself at his father, arms around his waist. ‘My papa is the best—he’s practising with me every day after school.’

Sadie got to her feet in a fluid motion. Quin’s pulse throbbed. She’d always been so naturally graceful. Except when it came to surfing. She’d never fully mastered the art, and had been too impatient, no matter what Quin said to her.

More memories.

He shoved them aside and said, more brusquely than he had intended, ‘Dinner is ready.’

He saw the way Sadie’s smile faltered at his tone. But Sol didn’t notice the chill in the air and let Quin go, skipping downstairs. Quin refused to let those huge eyes affect him. He turned away, but couldn’t deny how acutely conscious he was of Sadie as she followed him down to the kitchen-diner.

Roberto had prepared a light meal of pasta and sauce with salad and bread.

Sol grabbed some bread and Quin said, ‘Ah-ah—not so fast. Let’s try and pretend we’re a little more civilised, hmm?’

Sol put the bread back with a sheepish look at Sadie and sat down. Quin avoided looking at her. A part of him didn’t want to see how she was reacting to being with her son. Because he didn’t know how to deal with it yet. The most important thing was to keep her close, where he could be sure of knowing exactly what she was up to...

Once they were all seated, Quin handed Sol the bread and said, ‘Nowyou can eat.’

Sol fell on the food, demonstrating his ravenous appetite.

Sadie ate too, with the healthy appetite that Quin remembered, cleaning her plate.

He couldn’t help observing, ‘You still eat fast.’

Sadie looked at him, eyes wide, a faint flush stealing into her cheeks.

Sol was indignant. ‘I eat the fastest in this house.’

Quin welcomed the distraction from looking at Sadie and remembering too much. His tone was dry. ‘It’s not a race.’

When he was finished, Sol emitted a barely concealed burp.

Quin said, ‘Okay, that’s enough, young man. Take your plate into the kitchen and have a piece of fruit for dessert. You can play one game, and then I’m coming to get you ready for bed.’

Sol jumped up, and then stopped and looked at Sadie. ‘Will you still be here tomorrow?’

Sadie’s eyes were huge. Mirror images of her son’s. It was almost laughable how alike they were. She glanced at Quin and he had to clamp down on his body’s response.

She looked at Sol. ‘I think so. I’m hoping to stay for as long as you’ll have me.’

‘Cool! See you tomorrow! Do you know how to play football? I’ll show you. Night!’

He disappeared up to his room in a blur of motion. Sadie looked at Quin. She seemed a little dazed.

Eventually she said, ‘He’s an amazing kid. You’re a good father, Quin.’

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