Playboy Doctor to Doting Dad

It hadn’t been enough. It should’ve been. He didn’t do commitment. Commitment meant love, and Abigail was the kind of woman that eventually would want, would deserve, commitment and love. He couldn’t give any woman love. Abigail hadn’t grown up learning the hard lessons about relationships that he had got from his father. Thankfully, Morag, being the apple of their father’s eye, hadn’t suffered the knocks he had, hadn’t grown the hard shell around her heart that he had.

Stop the thinking. Grab a beer and relax. As the cool liquid rolled across his tongue he looked around. Abby had created a cosy atmosphere, perfect for young children. The bright blues and apricots on the walls and in the furnishings were warm and vibrant. Just like the woman herself. The furniture had seen better days so she obviously didn’t use the money he sent on anything other than Olivia. If she used it at all. It occurred to him that she mightn’t have touched a single cent.

But this was all about the children. What about Abigail? Surely she got lonely for adult company at night? He was assuming she spent the nights alone, but was probably wrong.

Piercing giggles coming from somewhere along the short hallway drew his attention. Before he could think about what he was doing he followed the sound. Stopping in the bathroom doorway, he leaned against the doorjamb and watched Abby bath Olivia. He had to swallow hard to get the next mouthful of beer past the lump in his throat. The bath was filled with soap bubbles, and Abby wore her share of them on her cheeks and forehead. She looked gorgeous.

He cleared his throat. ‘If Olivia gets this much fun out of a bath then I can’t begin to imagine her excitement in those puddles you mentioned.’

‘It gets fairly messy.’ Abby tugged a towel from the rail and lifted a protesting Olivia out of the water. ‘Let’s get you dry, little missy. Seamus will be here in a minute and he’ll need scrubbing from top to toe.’