Page 24 of Someone to Hold
Perfection. This moment is perfect, all right. Perfect and dangerous.
“I’m glad you approve.” I try to sound all business when my body is thinking about anything and everything but business. I distract myself by adjusting the cupcakes in their holders and put the lids on the two plastic carriers. “We should go so we’re not late to the party.”
“We’ll take my truck.”
“Sure.” I sound like I’ve just run a sprint, and he gives me a sidelong glance as he stacks the carriers one on top of the other.
“Perfection,” he repeats. “I wouldn’t change a thing.” Something in his tone makes me think he’s talking about more than just cupcakes.
He leaves the door open after he exits, so it’s easier for me to get out. The porch steps remain challenging, but I manage to get down before he returns to help. I hate being dependent on him, even if he’s working off a debt by helping me.
We’re mostly silent on the drive into town, and I wonder if I imagined that moment in the kitchen.
“Everything okay?” he asks when I take my phone from my purse as we near the school.
“I’m going to call the secretary and ask her to help me carry the cupcakes inside.”
He shakes his head. “I’m going in with you.”
“To a teacher’s baby shower?” He must be joking.
“You might need help, and that’s my job.” The words sound too casual.
“Come on. What’s the real reason? Are you interested in or already dating one of the teachers?” I have no right to feel jealous, but the emotion spikes in my chest just the same.
“Hell, no,” he says with a laugh. “We’ve already covered that my sister works at the school. Do you know what she’d do to me if I tried to date one of her coworkers?”
“I take it she wouldn’t approve?”
“You’re familiar with castration, right?”
My eyes widen, and I can’t help but smile. “I think I could be friends with your sister.”
“A terrifying thought,” he murmurs as we enter the school parking lot. “I’ll drop you off and then park and bring in the cupcakes.”
“You don’t have to, Chase. You’ve gone above and beyond this morning, so?—”
“Does Luke have friends?” he asks, the words spoken so gently, I almost miss them.
“Of course he has friends. He’s a great kid.”
One thick brow arches in my direction as he pulls to a stop in front of the school’s main door. “Besides Laurel?”
“Well, his sister is his best friend. That’s how it is with twins. They have a bond.” He continues to stare, and my chest tightens with the familiar defensiveness that comes from being judged and coming up lacking. “Why are you asking that?”
“I’m trying to get a sense of the situation. Hard to believe, but I was also a seven-year-old boy at one point.”
My heart pounds against my ribs as I force myself to sit perfectly still. I refuse to let Chase see how his casual observation has rattled me. I’m a good mother. It’s the only thing I’m certain of. With one question, Chase has made me doubt even that.
“Leave the cupcakes at the front office,” I say as I climb out of the truck and struggle to pull the crutches from the back seat.
He starts to unbuckle his seatbelt. “I can help with?—”
“I don’t need help right now,” I say through clenched teeth, trying—and mostly failing—to pretend his words haven’t cut deep. He thinks my son is a situation. That can’t be true. Can it?
The kids cheer as I enter the classroom. I have a reputation as the cupcake mom. Laurel waves to me from her seat at one of the low tables, surrounded by friends. Luke sits on the brightly patterned rug at the front of the room, but there’s a noticeable gap between him and the cluster of other kids listening to story time. My stomach drops to my toes. My sonhasfriends.
The classroom is already decorated with streamers and balloons in a rainbow of pastel colors. Aimee Bradshaw, the twins’ teacher, hasn’t found out whether she’s having a boy or a girl, so we’ve kept the theme gender neutral.
