Page 25 of The Missing Ingredient

“How could you? You’re not their father.”

For some reason the comment felt coldly dismissive, and Marcus retreated to having minimal interaction with Tom for the rest of their day out.

Naturally, the drive home went by in silence, but happily, this time, without any incidents. When they pulled up outside Tom’s house, Marcus fully expected Tom to bid him a cursory farewell after they’d carried both sleeping girls into the house. Marcus settled Katie on an armchair in the living room. From behind him, Tom finally spoke.

“Cup of tea, Marcus?”

“Oh. That would be lovely. Thanks, Tom.”

“And I need to talk to you.”

“Okay,” said Marcus, his heart racing. “Let me just pop upstairs and get the girls a blanket. No doubt they’ll be awake before long, but best keep them warm in the meantime.”

Heavy footsteps on the stair carpet caught him unaware. He had wanted these few moments to mentally prepare himself for whatever bad news Tom was going to sling at him. Twisting around from his vantage point crouching at the girls’ closet door, he witnessed Tom stride into the bedroom and scan the space, bewildered. Below eye level and part hidden behind Katie’s bed, Marcus took a moment to study the man. At any other time he would have felt incredibly aroused in the presence of someone whose firm thighs, broad chest, and chiseled chin represented the very essence of masculinity. But he had been at the receiving end of Tom Bradford’s foul mood before and wanted no part again. The moment their eyes met and Marcus rose from the floor, the bigger man faltered to a stop.

“Marcus. We need to talk.”

When he saw Tom’s expression, his heart froze. He knew Tom well enough to know thoughts bubbled beneath the man’s surface, but he articulated nothing to allay Marcus’s fears. Now he worried that he had messed up again.

“Before you say anything,” said Marcus, hoping to preempt the cause of the conversation, his heart pounding, “I want to apologize. I should never have insisted on Katie riding that pony today. Going against Lorraine’s wishes. And it was unfair to put you in a position to force the decision.”

“I made that choice, not you. And I would do the same again. This is not about that.”

In an effort to bolster himself, Marcus folded his arms tightly. Tom’s steely expression said everything. This was not going to be an easy conversation, whatever the subject. Marcus felt a dryness in his throat.

“Is this about seeing women?”

“No. Well, yes. Partly.”

Maybe Tom could mask his expression, but the flinch of his eyes betrayed the difficulty he was having trying to articulate what he needed to say. Marcus knew he could make things easier if he wanted, but to hell with that. Why should he? Whatever the news, it was clearly not good. Without saying another word, Marcus stood his ground, glaring at Tom, arms folded even tighter, waiting for the other man to speak.

“We’re being unfair to you, Marcus. You’re doing far too much. Mum thinks we shouldn’t be relying on you so heavily. Should give you a chance to find your own life.”

“Moira said that?”

“Yes.”

“Meaning what, exactly? You don’t want me to see you and the girls anymore?”

“No, of course not. Well, perhaps not as much.”

“And how do the girls feel about that?”

“They’ll be fine.”

“And John?”

“What do you mean?”

“What does your father think about his wife’s brilliant suggestion?”

“That’s beside the point. The fact is I agree with her.”

And there it was. One card shown. Tom wanted him to back away. Unable to speak for a few seconds, Marcus was unprepared for how much that declaration hurt.

“This is my life, Tom. Mine to use how I want. Helping you and my goddaughters is my choice, always has been. Even when Raine was alive.”

“And you’ve been amazing. Truly. But having a female presence in their lives, even if it’s not their mother, could only be good for the girls.”

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