Grady looked tired, too, lines of strain around his eyes, but he slid warm arms around her and kissed the top of her head. ‘Being your strumpet sounds amazing. You don’t have time to unwind with me awhile? A hot drink and a snuggle on the sofa, away from the smell of the paint, would be excellent.’

She pressed her face against his shoulder, breathing in his heat, feeling his heartbeat. A snuggle did sound excellent. ‘OK. Though I think I’m immune to the smell of paint.’ His laughter seemed to rumble through them both.

When she was propped against him on the sofa, hot chocolate in hand, one of his arms looped loosely around her, she sighed, letting her head rest on him. ‘My stomach’s been one big knot all day, especially since Niall said that about his mum going off for a few days. Do you think … Your brother and Tonya won’t have fallen out over that letter, will they?’

He sighed, his breath gliding over her skin and, to her dismay, he didn’t rubbish the idea. ‘I’ve been wondering what’s going on at Mac’s house today, too. Tonya’s lovely but a bit of a firecracker when she’s upset.’

‘Oh, hell.’ She groaned, shutting her eyes. ‘I felt so guilty when she confronted me this morning, as if I was having an affair with Mac. Why did he have to write? I was perfectly happy ignoring him as much as possible.’

He put down his mug of chocolate so he could stroke her hair. ‘Perfectly happy?’ he queried.

Her eyes remained closed and she enjoyed the slow, languorous caress of his hand, as if he was smoothing the knotty problems out of her head. ‘Putting up with things,’ she amended. Then, irritated by how passive that sounded, she added, ‘No, I was looking forward, rather than back. I was getting over a rocky period and feeling optimistic.’ Her throat tightened and so did her voice. ‘I was enjoying being with you and pretending your brother doesn’t exist.’ To prevent herself from dissolving into disappointed tears, she took several gulps of her hot chocolate.

His cradling arm tightened around her. ‘But he does exist,’ he murmured gently. ‘I’ve talked to him about us.’ His hand moved on to kneading her neck. ‘I explained that we’re trying not to let the past affect us.’

Laurel’s stomach cramped. ‘So what’s going to happen to us? If we keep seeing each other, I mean?’ She could hear unhappiness in her own voice, the dull, flat, echo of despondency.

Grady was silent. Though he continued to hold her close, he reached for his hot chocolate again and drank it. When he’d finished, he put down the empty mug and slid his other arm around her too, so she felt surrounded by him, moulded to the shape of his body. ‘Mac’s always going to be around.’