Chapter Thirteen
Matt grinned as he unlocked the door.
He’d been gone longer than expected, but for once, he didn’t have to worry about the babysitter complaining, because it was Darcy.
Things were working out great. The sex had been the best ever. His dick twitched just thinking about it. And he wanted her again already. Maybe Lulu would be tired and they could put her to bed and…
Christ, they were like an old married couple. Except for the married part.
And that was another good thing. Darcy didn’t want to get married any more than he did.
But as he stepped into the hallway, the house was quiet. No squealing Lulu running to meet him. He peered into the lounge, but it was empty. A few toys were strewn across the floor. A coloring book lay open on the table.
Where were they? Had something happened? But Darcy would have called him. She had a number where she could reach him in case of emergencies.
He headed to the kitchen. The breakfast dishes were piled in the sink, but otherwise the place was tidy. He smiled.
Then he noticed the note on the table. He crossed the room and picked it up.
I have an eleven o’clock class. Taken Lulu with me. Darcy.
She’d taken Lulu with her to the gym. Without asking him? Obviously. And he would have said no. Because it was no place for a two-year-old child. Besides, if Darcy was taking a class, then who was looking after Lulu?
He turned around and headed out of the house and back to his car. Fifteen minutes later, he’d worked himself up into a temper. He’d thought he could trust her, and the moment he turned his back… He pulled up in a no-parking zone across from the gym.
A blond woman was on reception. “Good morning. How can—?”
“Where’s Darcy?” he asked, cutting her off.
“She’s teaching a class, but—”
He didn’t wait any longer, just headed through the door at the back that led to the training rooms.
He opened a couple of doors before he found the right one. It was a large bare room with mirrors along one wall. There were about ten people, a mix of men and women, doing some sort of martial art—Taekwondo probably. Darcy was at the front, performing some complicated movement that the others were following.
Where the hell was Lulu?
Then he saw her. She was at the end of the line in the front row. Dressed in the outfit Darcy had bought her that first day. Her back was to him, but he could see her in the mirror, her face an image of concentration as she tried to follow the moves. Then she looked straight into the mirror and her little face lit up.
“Matt!” she squealed.
Everyone stopped. Darcy straightened. She caught sight of him in the doorway, and a smile nearly broke but turned into a frown before she could complete the expression. She glanced at her watch and her frown deepened.
Lulu turned and ran straight at him. He reached down and picked her up, but when he turned to take her out of there, she screamed.
“No. No. No. No.” Then she punched him on the shoulder and wriggled.
What the hell?
“Lulu stay. Learn to fight. Like Darcy.”
They were the center of attention now, all eyes on them. Including Darcy’s. She was looking…pissed. What did she have to be pissed about?
“Sorry, folks,” she said. “I guess we’ll be cutting this session short. I’ll make it up next time. Promise.”
He held onto a wriggling Lulu until the last person had left and the door closed, then he lowered her to the floor. “I got back and you weren’t there.”
“I left you a note.”