daughter. He’d felt … something.
He daren’t label it because he knew acknowledging he still found Tash attractive on a visceral level could only end badly. He didn’t want to like her. He couldn’t let her in, not again, not after all this time. Not after what she’d done. But all the logic in the world couldn’t stop him from closing his eyes as he towelled off and remembering exactly how he used to feel when she looked at him like that.
He struggled into clean clothes before grabbing the crutches, taking care not to slip. She’d been right; the sooner he got out of this cumbersome plaster the better. He’d seek a second medical opinion tomorrow. After spending time with his daughter, that is.
He had a daughter. A child of his own. A feisty, confident girl. His kid.
Equal parts trepidation and hope expanded in his chest until he could barely breathe. He’d spent his adult life on the road, living lavishly, partying hard. He’d enjoyed the spoils of his success and, until the accident, he’d been unapologetic for being self-centred. But those concertgoers dying had shattered him, and discovering Isla’s existence had the potential to undo him completely.
What if he wasn’t good enough?
What if he wasn’t enough?
A light knock sounded at the door. ‘You okay in there?’
‘Be right out,’ he barked, instantly regretting it. Tash had been nothing but helpful and the fact she’d stuck around to make him a meal after driving all the way to Echuca to pick him up spoke volumes. She’d always been a caring person and he should make an effort to shelve his resentment. Because no matter how mad she made him, she was the mother of his child—they had an irrevocable bond. Besides, he knew he’d need her help traversing the parenting minefield, considering he knew nothing about it.
He had so much to catch up on. What was Isla’s favourite colour? Favourite band? Favourite dinner? Did she like sport? Did she have ambitions to leave town like her mum had? And the biggest of them all: Did she really want a father she’d never known intruding in her life?
Cursing under his breath, he opened the door to find Tash nibbling her bottom lip, concern etched in the lines between her brows.
‘I thought you’d drowned,’ she said, her flippancy not disguising the worry in her eyes.
‘You couldn’t be that lucky.’ He hopped past her, gritting his teeth against the urge to apologise. Damn it, he should, because she’d been a real trouper. But it somehow stuck in his throat as he made it to the kitchen and saw what she’d done.
A place for one had been laid at the dining table in the corner, complete with a pitcher of water and a steaming bowl of pasta. The scene irritated him. She had no intention of staying. Then again, had he given her any indication she should? He’d been surly and disgruntled and dismissive since she’d picked him up, and he didn’t blame her for wanting to escape as soon as possible. But the least he owed her was a meal after all she’d done for him today.
‘Do you have to rush off to pick up Isla?’
‘No, she’s having dinner at her friend’s place.’
‘Then why don’t you stay?’
He glimpsed the refusal in her eyes but before she could speak he rushed on: ‘That looks like a lot of pasta for one person and I wouldn’t mind a hand sorting out my meds when we’re done.’
Okay, so that was sneaky. He knew perfectly well how many painkillers he had to take and how often, but appealing to her medical side was guaranteed to make her stay. And he really didn’t want her to leave.
She gnawed on her bottom lip again, indecisive, before finally nodding. ‘Okay.’
He took a seat and watched her move around his kitchen with ease. It struck him then that she might’ve eaten in this very kitchen, might’ve even known Yanni, and a ridiculous surge of jealousy twisted his gut at the thought.
‘Have you been here before?’
‘No. I don’t have time to socialise, what with my shifts at the roadhouse and being a taxi-mum to Isla.’ She grabbed a fork from the top drawer and added it to the plate in her hand. ‘This place is rarely occupied so I figured it was a holiday home.’
‘That would’ve been a spin out, if you’d met Yanni here one day.’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘How long are you planning on hiding out here?’
‘For as long as it takes.’
‘Want to