Pink warms her cheeks as I approach, but she doesn’t avoid my eyes like she did yesterday. Standing tall and barely jostling when her son rushes back through the door and away, she watches him for a moment as he escapes down the block, then her eyes come back to mine, her lips quirking into a small grin. “Morning.”
“Good morning.” As soon as Mac turns onto the next block, I take a step closer and let the tips of my fingers brush her hip. I love seeing her in tight jeans and a Franky’s shirt at work. I love seeing her in a wraparound dress and beautiful heels at night. Jesus, I just love seeing her, full stop. She’s so beautiful, she makes it so the early morning breeze feels crisper, the sunrise warmer, and the oxygen I breathe cleaner. She’s got me twisting myself into knots and breaking rules I set down for myself more than a decade ago. Rules I put down while my head hung over the ceramic toilet bowl and my stomach was trying to tear itself away from my body. I made those rules in my darkest days and vowed to never let history repeat itself. And yet…
“You look beautiful.” I don’t lean forward and kiss her the way I want to. Because she has rules too. “Have you been working long?”
“Half an hour or so.” She nods in the direction Mac just ran. “Did you forget the thing about talking to my son? Why were you talking to him?”
And there they are. “He caught up to me as I was walking here. He was just saying hey. Told me how he’s gonna be a champion fighter.”
“Oh.” She laughs under her breath. “That’s what he keeps telling me. It makes me proud, but at the same time, freaks me out that he might get hurt. He’s still my baby, ya know? I’m not ready for him to step up to grown men in an octagon.”
“He’ll be okay. His confidence will secure him the win every time.”
“But confidence can quickly turn to arrogance,” she counters, “and we all love watching an arrogant jerk get smacked down. The world will be rooting for him to lose, then they’ll cheer when he’s knocked to his ass.”
“Only if he’s obnoxious,” I reassure her. “Confidence is inspiring. Obnoxious is annoying. He’ll figure out where the line is eventually. Plus, everyone loves an underdog story. Busted leg, slinging dishes in his spare time, can’t do math, single mom.”
There’s no one on the street this early as Katrina purses her lips. “I mean, that’s one way to point out my flaws.”
“No.” I chuckle. “I’m not pointing out flaws. I’m pointing out the reasons for his character. The obstacles he’s overcome, and those he still has coming. He’s a good kid, Katrina. And I feel like maybe he’s going to achieve his goals no matter what anyone else thinks.”
“Yeah, well…” She drops her gaze to the ground and lets her long hair cover her face. I’d give anything to have the freedom to tuck it back. To stare into her eyes and ask for a good morning kiss. “He’s determined,” she murmurs. “So there’s that. I want his dreams to come true, I really do, but I’d prefer it if they didn’t include two-hundred-pound fighting machines and fists flying at his head.” Her eyes come up. “It’s a bit much for a mother to handle sometimes.”
“He’ll be okay. He’s not stepping up to grown men yet.” The street remains empty but for a couple cars that meander on by. I glance over her shoulder into the diner, but no one pays us any attention, so I take this chance to lean forward just one more inch and loop my finger in hers. Our hands are basically hidden by our bodies and her apron, but our close proximity is telling in itself. I absolutely shouldn’t be claiming her, but there’s a part of my soul that really fucking wants to. It’s terrifying; it’s thrilling. It’s forbidden, but isn’t that the point? “I really enjoyed last night,” I whisper. “Thanks for coming over.”
She glances away shyly when warmth fills her cheeks. “I probably owe you more cookies.”
“I’ll eat them.” I flash a hungry smile. “And I’ll think of you when I do.”
“No teasing.” She squeezes my hand. I catch subtle movement inside the diner, then a glimpse of Stefan over Katrina’s shoulder. The heavy cook stops in the doorway by the kitchen and locks eyes with me. He stares, narrows his glare as he studies me from my feet to my head, then he breaks contact and glances at Katrina.
As though coming to a decision, he flashes a grin and a slow nod, then turns away.
Approval?
“Zeke called me up not long ago.” Katrina’s hesitant words register in my brain a moment too late. Like an electrical shock, my muscles twitch, and my eyes come back to hers. “He was seen by a judge last night,” she continues. “I guess the dude was working overtime or something. He granted bail pending payment of his fines—and an additional five thousand dollars.”
“You’re not paying that money, Katrina.” My post-sex, post-Stefan’s-smile mellow escapes my body in a hot flash. “Absolutely not. I’ll confiscate your bank cards and have Soph move your money before you wash it down the drain like that.”
And just like that, her spine snaps straight and that bad attitude from the night Zeke was in the diner spikes. “First of all,Cap, nobody makes my decisions but me.Nobody. I’m thirty years old, not thirteen, and just because you got into my pants doesn’t mean you get into my bank. But second, no, I’m not paying it. I can’t afford it, for starters, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. That would essentially be mepayingto have the bum sleep on my couch, and I’m not into that kind of torture. That would be stupid.”
“Did he ask you to pay it?”
“Of course,” she huffs. “He begged me to help him out, and waxed poetic about how he misses Mac, how it’s his birthday soon, Zeke’s, not Mac’s, and how he’d like to take him camping for the weekend.”
“When was the last time he took his son camping?”
A single snort turns to a belly-jumping guffaw as though hysteria is finally taking her under. “Not one single time in the last fourteen years. He wants to guilt me into this, that way the next time I get mad and spit about being a deadbeat, he’ll say he wanted to go camping, but I was the one who stopped them.”
He infuriates me. I don’t even know the dude, but he had something precious within reach, and instead of cherishing it, he walked away, but not before spitting in their faces. “It’s not true. Everything you do is in Mac’s best interest.”
“I know. I’m not a stupid fifteen-year-old anymore, and I don’t lack self-confidence when it comes to being a mother. I might struggle every damn day; I might literally scrape my coins together to pay the bills, and maybe I have to walk to work twenty days out of each month because my car’s a piece of shit. I might swear too much and make my kid stay up late way too often, but despite it all, I am a good mother, and nobody can convince me otherwise. I know what gaslighting is, and I know my son’s father is trash. I told him no on the phone, and I stand by it. But I still had to listen to him bitch about it. He’s super pissed now, cussing me out on the work phone until Franky hung it up and forced me to walk away.” Her eyes blaze as she tugs her finger from my grip. “He makes me so angry that my hands shake. He almost acts like we should beg for his attention, and when we don’t, he cries about it and blames me for all his troubles.”
“It’s his loss.” Fuck society, and fuck our rules, I still lean forward and tuck her loose hair back, and because I’ve come this far, I keep going and press my lips to her forehead. “It’s his character flaw, Katrina. It’s his mistake for not appreciating what he had.”
“I know.” She lets go of some of her anger, but in doing so, she also steps back and makes a point to put space between us until her scent retracts from inside my lungs and leaves me wanting. “Anyway.” She pulls in a deep breath. “I don’t know why I told you that. Sneaky sex doesn’t mean a shoulder to cry on, so I’m sorry.”
“You can talk to me,” I whisper. “I have broad shoulders, remember?”