Page 6 of For Fox Sake

His brow wrinkles and his gaze slides to the door behind me, like he can see through the wood. “Do you have someone else here?”

“No.”

As if to immediately contradict my words, a thump sounds behind me, and the handle turns.

“Momma?”

I flip around, attempting to block her view. I don’t introduce men I date to Ari. Not that there have been many of them, but I wouldn’t even think about it until I’ve vetted them thoroughly and I know it might go somewhere. I only do one-off lunch dates when she’s in school or camp and not around to see it.

“Stay inside, baby. I’ll be right in.”

She frowns but is too groggy to argue with me or ask who’s here or why, thankfully.

I shut the door.

Rob is sneering at me, his lip curling in disdain. “You have a kid?”

“Yes. I have a kid.” My eyes flick to the scooter resting against the porch railing, then the Barbie Mermaid pool in the corner and the container of sidewalk chalk next to it.

This guy is a moron.

I straighten, squaring my shoulders. “It’s time for you to leave.”

“Whatever.” He waves a hand behind him, already stomping down the porch steps. “I can’t believe Austin thought I would be into used goods,” he mutters as he’s walking away.

I roll my eyes and grit my teeth, taking a deep breath before slipping back inside, locking the door behind me, and hitting the porch light off with a little more force than necessary.

“Who was that, Momma?” Ari peers at me from the hallway.

“No one. No one at all.” I pick her up, her head dropping to my shoulder as her sleepy warmth wraps around me.

“The talking woke me up,” she mutters into my neck.

“It’s okay. No more talking.”

I carry her back to her room and tuck her in, her eyes remaining shut the whole time. I sit on the edge of her bed and watch her for a minute. A soft blue glow from her Elsa night light shines over her face, her long eyelashes casting crescent shadows on her cheeks.

I wouldn’t give up my life, as challenging as it can be, for anything. Definitely not for some douchebag who doesn’t even know how to chew food properly.

Anyone who sees a child as baggage and not as a gift isn’t worth my time or energy.

I suppose it’s a good thing that the trash takes itself out, every single time.

Chapter Two

Jake

Seconds after the porch light goes off at the house across the street, I drop the curtain. I didn’t intend to spy, but when a car door slammed outside, I couldn’t resist. I’ve never had a neighbor before. I’ve never lived anywhere outside of my family’s sprawling property, where the nearest neighbor is a mile away.

Then once I started, I couldn’t stop. The woman who answered the door looked a whole hell of a lot like the woman from the store. Her tension was palpable, even with a street between us.

I couldn’t tell if I needed to intervene. I kept watching just in case I needed to run out there if things escalated.

Who was he? An ex-boyfriend?

Earlier, at the store, she was flustered and distressed, her face bright red with embarrassment.

And yet she kept it together and retained her sense of humor in an awkward situation. Even cracked a joke when her little girl said she had to poop.

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