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"Did you bring the coasters?"
I took the grocery bag from him, and showed Flora one of the coasters with Mick's Pub written on it.
"Thank you, Uncle Mick." She gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"Okay, now I have to go to bed. Mum, will you read to me?"
I looked at Rowan, and finally, Mick noticed that there was a man in the room. He quirked an eyebrow. "Well, hello. I'm Mick."
"Rowan."
Mick's eyes narrowed, and he looked at me. "That Rowan?"
I nodded. "Come on, Flora, get into bed. I'll be with you in a sec."
"Okay. Goodnight, Uncle Mick. Goodnight, Rowan."
"Goodnight, Flora," Rowan said with a smile while Mick gave her another hug and dropped a kiss on her cheek.
Once she was gone, I looked at the two men in my living room.
"I've got to read to Flora," I said quickly before Mick could suggest he'd put Flora to bed, which he did from time to time.
"I'll wait," Rowan said.
"I don't want you here," I finally gave up trying to be polite.
"I know. I just need ten minutes of your time."
"And will you, during those ten minutes, not refer to Isha as a whore?" Mick asked.
Mick was pretty jacked and he could probably take Rowan. I smiled in amusement.
"Yes, I won't," Rowan agreed simply.
"Now, go on, cupcake, and put my flower girl to bed while I talk to this hunk of a man."
"You have a bar to run; so go do that before your employees revolt for abandoning them on a Friday night." I pointed to the door.
"Mister, if you don't behave, my husband is next door, and he's bigger than me. I promise he'll fuck you up good."
Rowan nodded. "No doubt. I promise I'm going to be on my best behavior."
That Rowan wasn't picking a fight with Mick was strange because he had a short temper, from what I could remember, and Mick was certainly provoking him. But then I used to be a doormat, and no one could say I was one now. So, maybe we'd all grown up for the better.
Chapter 17
Rowan
Iwaited for her in her living room.
I walked around and looked at all her things. There was a small table with photographs: a young couple; Isha with a baby; Isha and a baby with an older couple. I wondered who all these people were. When I knew Isha, she had only one close friend; now, it seemed she had many more.
But there didn't seem to be a man in her life, not counting Uncle Mick and his husband, who was bigger than me and could fuck me up.
Who was Flora's father? She was mixed race like Isha—and as gorgeous as her. I'd peg her as four or five. Could she be mine?
It took just fifteen minutes before Flora was back in the living room. She was still as beautiful as she'd been six years ago. She still made whatever she wore look like it was designed for a runway model. Even in workout gear as I'd seen her at Claudio's or now in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, she looked regal, elegant, and downright sexy.
