Page 39 of Wishing Hearts

Sam snorts, fingers drifting idly over my leg. “No, I don’t. I like kids a lot.”

I nod. I can tell.

And there goes that little feeling inside my chest again.

“Did I pass your test?” Sam asks, the words a shock. “That’s what it was, right?” He watches me closely, eyes intent on my face, and I don’t know what to say.

“I…”

Maybe it was, but not intentionally. I didn’t set out to put Sam to the test when he showed up here tonight, and yet that’s exactly what I did, didn’t I?

“Y’know what I find interestin’?” Sam says softly, lips twitching a little. “You didn’t want me to fail. You told me to bring cake.”

Fuck, I did.

“You wanted her to like me,” he adds.

I can’t deny it. Any of it. Can’t deny I set Sam up to be surprised tonight, even though it wasn’t conscious on my part. Can’t deny I wanted to see how he’d react to the reality of my life. Can’t deny part of me wanted him to fail because that’d be the easy way out. You can’t get hurt if you never try.

But what I can’t deny the most is that I’m so very glad Sam stuck. And that yes, I told him to bring cake because it’s Winnie’s favorite.

“I think,” I say slowly, throat clicking when I swallow. “I think you see me, Sam.”

He grins like that’s the best thing I could have said. “I like what I see, Harrison,” he responds, voice rumbling in a way that does things to me. Sam does things to me. He has from the beginning. “I’d like to date you.”

“Still?” I ask. “After tonight?”

“Still.”

“I’m a package deal,” I point out.

“I know that,” he says with a little huff of laughter.

I rub my neck, chest feeling hot. “My life is messy, Sam. Really fucking messy. I can’t go out at night and miss family dinners. I have to drop my daughter off at school early and pick her up again right after work. There’s homework and bake sales and play dates and making goddamn volcanoes in the kitchen. Do you know how much baking soda I keep in stock? Our dates would include Winnie, and we’d have to be careful. We wouldn’t be able to fuck around whenever we want. Not like in Plum Valley. It wouldn’t be easy. Nothing in my life is easy. It’s one big mess.”

When I finish my rant, Sam’s brown eyes are soft. My pulse is still skipping a little wildly, but Sam’s lips lift into a gentle smile.

“I like messy, Harrison,” he says evenly. “What you just described? I never had that. I was in foster care my entire childhood. I never got to make volcanoes in the kitchen. Never had suppers with family that was my own. I don’t need easy. Nothin’ in my life has been easy, either. But… I think I could help with the mess if you’d let me.”

Fuck. Fuck.

My throat is tight when I speak. “This might be a bad idea, Sam. I’m fragile.”

It’s hard to admit, but it’s the truth, and he needs to know it. Because if we do this—if we try—and I get attached to this beautiful man who keeps pulling back layers and making me want him more, it could end badly for me. I’ve had my heart shattered before. And now, it’s a patchwork of mended lines that don’t quite fit together the way they once did.

Entering a relationship isn’t a decision I can afford to make lightly. Not only because I’m a single parent whose child is always going to come first. But because of that glass heart inside my chest.

Sam hums a quiet sigh of sorts. “I’m fragile, too, Harrison. I think I’m a little more like Winnie than you may realize. I don’t… I don’t take abandonment well.”

My chest clenches. It’s not hard to guess why. Sam didn’t have parents.

He’s more similar to Winnie than he realizes.

“What if we hurt each other?” I ask softly.

“What if we don’t?” he counters.

“My daughter…”

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