Poles Apart
Page 64

 Kirsty Moseley

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After following him up the stairs and into Sasha’s bedroom, I immediately stalked over to the chair and sat down in it, settling Sasha on my lap. She didn’t let go of me straight away as she looked around with wide eyes. “What do you think? See how cute this chair is? Mummy wants one of these for her room,” I said, touching one of the bear’s noses as I smiled. It was gorgeously designed.
“I’ll get you one,” Carson stated, walking into the room and watching me with a smile on his face.
I rolled my eyes. “It was just a turn of phrase. You don’t need to buy everything I mention a fancy for, you know.”
Ignoring my dig, he walked over to the tall, white-wood wardrobe and pulled open the door. On one side, there were two full racks of clothes in every single colour; on the other, shelves and shelves of teddy bears, dolls and toys. Sasha’s little body jerked as she looked at the array of things inside.
“These are all yours,” Carson stated, picking up a stuffed monkey from the top shelf and doing a monkey-type chatter impression.
Sasha giggled and looked up at me uncertainly. I smiled reassuringly and nodded. “They’re all yours, Sash. Daddy bought them all for you. Go check them out,” I instructed, helping her off my lap as she squirmed to get down.
She walked hesitantly over to Carson and took the offered monkey from his hand. “Sasha’s?” she asked. When Carson nodded, she brought the monkey to her face and kissed its nose before smiling up at her dad. I didn’t need to see inside his chest to know his heart melted at her smile – it was clear on his face.
Sasha immediately turned on her heel and marched over to me. “Mummy, up!” she ordered, taking my hand and tugging. “M’key chair!” she announced, setting the stuffed monkey in the space I’d just vacated.
I chuckled and sat on the floor instead, watching as she methodically made her way back and forth from the wardrobe, plucking out the toys one by one. She looked up at Carson each time as she asked, “Sasha’s?” checking they were really hers before she marched over to the chair and arranged them all in one big pile.
By the time she was finished inspecting every inch of her room, the place looked like a bomb had exploded inside it. Carson was grinning from ear to ear, probably because Sasha had already been won over by his gifts and was now accepting of him and no longer shy. When my tummy rumbled, I looked at my watch to see it was after five.
“Do you mind if I make some dinner?” I asked nervously.
Carson frowned. “You don’t need to ask my permission for stuff like that. This is your home now, Emma.”
I sighed. “It’s not home; it’s just a place where I’m currently living because you told me I have to.” As I pushed myself up from the floor, I looked down at Sasha as she emptied the contents of a ‘match the card’ game onto the floor. “Want to stay up here with Daddy, or come down and help me cook?” I asked.
“Cooks!” she answered, pushing herself up as well but not letting go of the ‘tickle me Elmo’ toy that she seemed to be favouring. Sasha loved to help me cook. Usually, she had just an empty bowl and spoon to bang around with while I cooked, but it was good enough for her.
As the three of us walked out of the room, Sasha’s chubby little hand slipped into Carson’s. He looked down at her hand in shock, and then the biggest, most spectacular grin stretched across his face. It appeared that Sasha had now accepted Carson into her inner circle, and he couldn’t have been happier about it judging by the look on his face.
I WOKE TO THE SOUNDS of dramatic crying through the expensive baby monitors Carson had purchased. I groaned and pushed myself up, sleepily trudging from my room into Sasha’s. My eyes stung and my head ached. I hadn’t had much sleep last night. On top of the house and street being unusually quiet compared to my flat, I also didn’t like being in a different room to my baby girl. It felt wrong and was something that was going to take me a long time to get used to.
From the sound of her cries alone, I already knew there was nothing wrong with her. You could hear the differences when she really meant it. This one was more a, I’ve-just-woken-up-and-am-already-fed-up-with-being-in-my-cot cry. I was used to this one early in the morning. Clearly Carson wasn’t, though.
As I reached into the cot to pick up Sasha, he came pelting into the room in just a pair of navy, long-legged loungewear trousers which hung dangerously low on his hips. He still looked half-asleep as a worried frown creased his forehead. “What’s happened? She okay? Why’s she crying?” he asked, stepping to my side quickly and looking at her worriedly.
I smiled at the concern I could see on his face. “She’s fine. She just woke up in a strange room, that’s all,” I said, elbowing him playfully in the ribs.
He blew out a big breath, raking his hand through his messy hair and causing it to stick up at the front. “Ugh, that’s not a nice thing to wake up to,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“You’ll get used to it,” I replied. As he stepped back and smiled at Sasha, picking up her dummy she’d dropped on the floor, I let my eyes wander over him. I bit back a groan of appreciation as the muscles rippled in his stomach and arms as he moved. My mouth watered with the strong urge to lean in and lick his chest while rubbing my scent over him like a cat. He looked damn fine in the morning. Better than I even dared imagine, actually.
He looked up then and caught me mid-inspection of his body. A sly grin crossed his face. “You can touch it if you want,” he offered playfully.