Page 30 of Love in Mission City: The Shorts

“My old boss Gia read all the contracts and did much of the negotiating.She said I could keep asking her for help, but I want to stand on my own, you know?”

“I do know.”He slipped his hand over my clenched fist.“I’ll be here to help.Hell, Sunshine might be flighty, but she’s got a great nose for business.You don’t have to be alone again.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Because it is.”He squeezed my hand, let it go, then resumed eating as if he hadn’t just blown my world apart.

Chapter Nine

Dickens

Should I have asked him about the tears?

Possibly not.

Probably not.

And yet I couldn’t regret the question.I passed off the dyslexia like it was no big deal because I suspected he didn’t want me to comment.So I accepted it as fact, pointed out Darlene would be perfect, and moved on.

Should I have told him he never had to be alone again?

Possibly not.

Probably not.

And yet I couldn’t regret my statement.I didn’t want to leave him alone.I wanted to spend more time with him.Get to know him.Find out what made him tick.What made him laugh.What else made him cry.Ridiculous as it sounded, I was looking into the future and seeing him as part of it.And that didn’t scare me.I hadn’t had a man seriously in my life since Isaac.Now, within days of meeting this annoying man, I wanted something permanent with him.

Well, annoying was too strong a word.Irritating?Even that felt too harsh.He just had quirks—like playing music too loud—but that was something we could compromise on.

Right?

You’re getting way ahead of yourself.

True.Hell, I didn’t even know if I was welcome here or making a pest of myself.

We continued to eat in silence.My call had thrilled Darlene.

Apparently her husband had just lost another job, and things were tight.He wouldn’t be happy about her working, but they needed the money.

I had strong opinions about the man, but I always kept my own counsel.If she ever saw the truth and left, Sunshine and I would be there to support her.I suspected Spike would be in that camp as well.

“What’s your name?”

His fork clattered to the plate.

I grinned.“A mother who read you Keats didnotname you Spike.”

A shadow crossed his expression.

I instantly regretted my words said in jest.

He swept his arm in the air as if shooing away a fly.“She passed a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry.”God, such a trite thing to say.

His sad, dark-brown eyes met mine.“Yeah, me too.I wish it’d been my dad and not her, but we don’t get to make choices like that.”

“But you’ve chosen to honor her.”I might’ve been extrapolating a lot, but the love was so clear to see.

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