Page 149 of Three Reckless Words

“Whoa.” Colt frowns at her. “I mean, that’s cool and all. None of my business. I just—”

“Damn straight,” I growl. “You were about to shut your mouth and help me bag some trash.”

“It’s okay.” She glances at me and hesitates. “You know what, I think I will head inside for a break. It’s pretty hot out here and I’m already burned. Should’ve brought sunscreen.”

“Good idea.” It will get her away from my son, who clearly needs another reminder not to run his mouth. “If you need anything, just give me a shout.”

“Sure thing.” She shades her face with her hand and gives me a small, sad smile that makes my heart twist before she walks through the sliding doors inside.

Goddammit.

I turn on Colt. “What the hell was that?”

“What, I can’t ask?”

“No, you can’t. Worming your way into someone’s private business makes them uncomfortable.”

“She wasn’tthatuncomfortable,” he says. “I mean, you’re the only one acting like it’s a big deal. It isn’t, Dad, you’re just another guy. I get it. You guys can answer a question or two without freaking out.”

“I don’t need to answer anything. But for the record, it’s not like you think.”

“Cool, more vagueness.” He snorts and shakes his head. I watch him grab the gardening gloves Winnie left on the ground. “So, whatisit like, then?”

“None of your business, for one.” I grab a bulging trash bag and haul it to the gate. I’ll have the maintenance crew pick them up later. “How was brunch with your mom?”

“Awesome! I had eggs Benedict with lobster at that new place. She asked me about summer school and we talked about the bees.” He shrugs. “It was nice to talk to her. She said I should come out west later this year in the fall and she’d take me up to the San Juans or Vancouver Island.”

In other words, a long fucking way from home for my son and his irresponsible mother.

“Mm-hmm,” I grunt, barely biting my tongue.

This is the part I hate.

Being a parent means manning up and moving past the drama so you can co-parent effectively, yes. Only, no one tells you how fucking hard it is.

Or how much you want to shake your kid sometimes because you can’t shake the hell out of your stupid, conniving ex.

Rina’s done this before.

She’s raised his hopes and then left me to pick up the pieces, to explain why his mom has a screw loose that stops her from ever growing up and following through on big plans.

Sure, Colton deserves a mother, and I will never hide her from him, but he should get to walk into this with his eyes open.

“Is she heading home soon?” I try not to sound too hopeful.

“Dunno. Sounds more like she’s going to stay in town for a little bit. She said she wants to come to the next parent-teacher conference, to meet all my teachers and see how I’m doing.” There’s pride in his voice. “Oh, and I promised I’d carve her something.”

“Right.”

He looks at me. “Are you mad?”

“No.”

“But you’re mad at Mom.”

That doesn’t deserve an answer. I don’t want to lie to him.

Yes, I’m angry at his mother for charging in like this after ghosting him for years. I’ve been angry at Rina over that shit for years, and there’s still no good reason to believe this time will be different.

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