Page 11 of Owen

It’s reassuring that Poppy is in safe, capable hands, especially knowing how unreliable Poppy’s father, Michael, is. He wasn’t that concerned that he wouldn’t see Poppy while we’re in Cyprus. When I handed him my yearly schedule and training plan, he said he’d see her on our return to England for a couple of days between display shows, which made me want to hit him in the nuts with a heavy blunt object.Asshole.

It’s just as well I have enough love for Poppy to launch a thousand ships because Michael doesn’t even have enough to float a rubber dinghy.

Mom and I both stare down at my sleeping daughter.

Who knew that such a tiny bundle of unplanned chaos—all giggles and red curls—could bring so much happiness into my life? And of course, I can’t forget the mountain of plastic rainbow-colored toys we seem to have accumulated, too. We needed an entire suitcase just for those alone while we’re here.

“It’s just…” I begin.

“We’ve only arrived… I know, you’ve mentioned that several times while getting ready.” She waves off my concerns, gesturing to the surrounding space. “However, she’s in safe hands with me. We are in a secure compound.” She checks the time. “It’s time to go. Your team is waiting, and you know how much they’ve missed you while you’ve been on maternity leave. It’s the first night out with them since you went back to work last month. It’ll be good fun.” My mom loosens my tightly curled fingers, peeling them away from the crib side.

“I know.” She continues. “And they love you, you love them, and you deserve a night out.”

I turn to face her, greeted by her warm smile. “Jade.” She cups my cheek. “Go out. Laugh. Let your hair down.”

“It’s down.”

“Well, you’re all set then, aren’t you?” She waits a beat. “Your father would be so proud of you, and he would dote on Poppy.”

He would.

“She looks just like you, Jade.” Her thumb brushes my cheek.

“Let’s hope she doesn’t have my fiery temperament.” I sure gave my parents a hard time growing up, always thinking I knew best.Strong-willed and stubborn.The traits my father said he loved most about me.

“I’m hoping she gives you a run for your money.” As she smirks, my mom’s eyes crinkle around the edges, dancing with humor. “Karma. Oh, I am looking forward to watching her grow into the same fiercely independent woman you’ve become. If she does, she may even become the second female pilot to make the flying team. Or she might outshine you and become an astronaut.”

I snort. “I think she just might.”

“I’m willing to place a bet with you. But for now”—my mom grabs the tops of my shoulders, spins me around, and ushers me out of the bedroom door. I twist my neck back to steal a last glance at my sleeping cherub—“it’s time to have a few drinks, reconnect with your team, and enjoy some adult conversation.” She points, silently ordering me to get down the stairs and leave.

I submit. “Okay, okay. I get the message.” I grab the handrail and run down the marble staircase, which is not baby friendly, not even in the slightest. I need to nip out and buy safety gates after training tomorrow.

I jump down the last step and look back up at Mom. “I haveto be up super early tomorrow for our first training session, so I won’t be back late.”

She stands at the top of the stairs, smiling down at me. “Just enjoy yourself. And do not watch your phone or study the choreography you’ve been working on for the last month. Save that for tomorrow, because tonight’s about having fun.”

My hand rests on my stomach. Although I am nervous about the routine I designed, it’s not nerves I feel when Mom mentions the training program and aerobatic display I’ve spent hours refining, it’s actually rumbling from hunger. I’m looking forward to a meal out, some me time, and maybe even a glass of wine… or two… Only two.

“I love you. Thank you for being here.” I blow a kiss in my mom’s direction, and she pretends to catch it. “I couldn’t do this without you.” A bone-deep calm settles within me.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I won’t wait up. Now go.” She shoos me, encouraging me again to leave. “You look beautiful. I’m sure he’ll love your dress.” She winks.

I wave back at her flippantly, now regretting telling her how handsome Gregor’s cousin, Owen, is.

“I don’t care if he likes it. He’s not my type.” Every one of my words is a lie. He was hot, like sizzling molten lava.

However, I have made bad choices in the past with men, specifically Michael, and I won’t go down that route again. Hot and handsome do not always equal nice.

I let out a sigh as I think about Poppy, who was the best thing to come out of that relationship. She was our happy accident, and it’s a sin her father can’t see that.

“I agree, handsome blond Scotsman with piercing blue eyes doesn’t sound like your type at all.” She mocks me sarcastically with my own words that I used to describe him earlier. “Andlook at you. You are beautiful. You look like a goddess tonight in that dress. Green really is your color.”

I look down at my new fine lace dress and flat gold sandals. At five foot eight, I don’t need heels.

“Like I said, I don’t care what he thinks.” I place my hand on my hip. “And who will be interested in a single mom with a busy career schedule and a grouchy ex, anyway? Also, I’m too old for him.” Well, I think I am. He looks much younger than me.

“You’re thirty-nine. Not dead.” She sighs. “And who wouldn’t love Poppy? She’s adorable.” Mom makes her way down the stairs.

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