Page 130 of Playing the Game
“I love you too.”
He terminated the call and stared out of the vast windows that gave a stunning view of the gardens. He could imagine Olive running around there in a few years.
The irony of being a stepparent of sorts wasn’t lost on Jonas. After suffering Tuva, he would make a much better job of it than that miserable cow.
“Hey,” Adam called up the stairs. “Sleeping beauty. Get your arse in gear. There’s a little girl down here who wants a swim.”
“I don’t have any swimmers,” Jonas shouted back.
“Dressing room. On the left. Third drawer down. Hurry up.”
He leapt out of bed and padded over to the dressing room. Sure enough the drawer was stuffed with swimming shorts and some dodgy Speedos that he would be having a discussion with Adam about at a later date. Maybe even a private viewing.
In the end he selected some old Brockton shorts. Like most football clubs they upgraded their kit every year. It appeared Adam never threw anything away.
By the time he got downstairs, Adam was already in the pool. He had Olive cradled in his arms. She seemed to be perfectly happy in the water. She had on the most adorable pink swimming costume and matching float jacket.
“Could you two be any cuter?” Jonas said.
“Do you need coffee?”
“I do but I can have it later,” Jonas replied.
He slipped into the pool. The warm water enveloping him. When he did finally get his act together about where he would live next season, he’d make sure it had a pool.
He swam over to Adam and kissed him on the cheek. “Morning, handsome.”
Olive squealed with joy when she saw Jonas and held her arms out.
“Wow. Someone loves you.”
Adam handed her over. Jonas laid her in the water. She kicked furiously. They laughed as she splashed the pair of them.
“What a water baby,” Jonas said. “I can see us going to swimming galas in the future.”
Adam came behind him and wrapped his arms around Jonas’ waist.
“I like being a plural again.”
He nuzzled Jonas’ neck.
“Me too,” Jonas replied. “Whatever happens, I’ll stand with you.”
Adam rested his chin on Jonas’ shoulder.
“Even if we have to be a secret for a few years?” Adam asked. “At some point we’ll have to go public with this little one. I don’t think Jen can face a love triangle on top.”
“The British media are still stuck in the sixties. In answer to your question, absolutely. If I’m going to have Anna with me, I don’t want reporters banging on the door every hour of the day and night either.”
“Have you heard from her?”
“Nope,” Jonas replied. Tuva had always been an obstinate bitch. It appeared his father’s sense of right was long gone.
Adam’s phone rang.
“Balls,” Adam exclaimed.
He climbed out of the pool and wandered over to a table where his phone was vibrating. Jonas watched him. He was the most handsome man he’d ever set eyes on. Or fingers. Or lips. Or…
