Page 11 of The Only Heart that Matters

“I’m too nervous to be cold.”

I see a puffer jacket lying over the back of the couch. “Is this your coat?”

“Yes, but seriously, leave it.”

I grab her coat and the car seat sitting on the floor next to the door with my free hand. “You might want it later. Sawyer and I will meet you at the truck.”

The Powells must pay a service to shovel their driveway and Mia’s because from her front door to my truck is snow free. Looking around the always immaculate property, a pang of sadness hits me square in the chest at the thought of no longer making memories here.

Our families have spent countless summers camping out, water skiing, grilling, and throwing some of the best 4th of July parties around. Easter egg hunts, Christmas Eve dinners, birthdays, anniversaries, we’d shared them all between this place and my parents’ ranch. Daisy and Mia learned how to ride bikes together, right here in this very driveway. This property is so much more than a house or piece of land. It would be like selling the ranch. Like selling a piece of your soul. If it means this much to me, I can’t imagine how hard it must be for Mia.

I open the door to the back cab of the truck and set the car seat, her coat, and Sawyer on the bench seat, hopping in behind him. He immediately stands up and jumps with excitement where he had been sitting. Keeping a hand on him at all times, I look at the car seat as beads of sweat tickle my neck. How am I supposed to keep him from hitting his head or falling while fastening this seat into place?

Luckily Mia opens the door and an adult who knows what they're doing enters the picture. “It goes in the middle.”

“Really?”

“Yep, scoot over and I’ll lock it in real quick.”

I slide across to the other side of the cab, bringing the safety seat to the middle. She climbs in and I’m struck dumb as vanillainfiltrates the air. There is no escaping her or the scent that has always reminded me of her. Any time I smell vanilla I think of her, but today she’s so damn close it’s like I’m high on her.

Our proximity doesn’t seem to have the same impact on her as she wastes no time getting to work without even a glance in my direction. When she pulls the seat belt through the designated spot, she finally looks up at me, only inches away.

“Can you clip this in, please?” She hands me the belt.

“Sure,” I mutter. It takes me three tries to click it into place because she’s leaning over the seat to watch, putting her head only an inch away from mine.

She smells too damn good. I’m not sure what has changed over the past couple of years, but being around her feels different. What I always tossed aside as a childhood crush has morphed into something I have a hard time controlling.

“There we go.” Her breath glides over my face as she looks up and beams me a smile. Seemingly unfazed, she moves away to grab her little man, plopping him in his seat.

“Let’s get you settled, munchkin. You're a little puffier than usual, aren’t you?” She adjusts the straps so he fits and clicks them together at his chest before running her finger over his cheek.

Bam!

That’s when it smacks me upside the head. It’s seeing her as a mom. Her love for her son, who she’s raising on her own, unlocked something inside me I didn’t know existed.

I haven’t been the same since that Sunday dinner when she told us she was pregnant. It was her indignant defiance warning all of us not to push her for answers or to shame her. She wouldn’t take our pity and insisted her child was not a mistake.

We all agreed it was a happy situation. But a situation, all the same.

I had a nameless fuck in my loft that night and have been trying to fuck her and the thought of someone else getting her pregnant out of my head ever since. But it hasn’t worked. In fact, having the privilege of watching her become the mother she is has changed everything. I’ve resigned myself to the one-night stands that parade through my loft. There’s no need for anything serious, because anyone else would mean I had settled when I know a woman like Mia Powell exists.

I’ve spent a lifetime watching her from the sidelines, telling myself I was fine with that. It took her becoming a mom for my feelings for her to burn too hot to be safe.

And it took until this very moment to realize exactly why.

Ain’t that some shit?

Chapter Six

Mia

“Here you go,” Angus says, as soon as my seat belt is on. There’s no hiding the surprise on my face when he hands me a warm cup of coffee with a peppermint candy sitting on top of the lid.

“Ooh, you went to Becks. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” I take a sip, thinking it’s just a black coffee, and am surprised to find it’s my exact order. Cue the teenage giddiness doing cartwheels in my belly.

“No biggie, I was stopping for myself anyway.”

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