Page 82 of Cold As Ice

Austin: At the bar?

Madison: Yeah.

Austin: Hope it goes okay. Good night, pretty girl.

My heart fluttered. That little sensation setting off warning bells that I was in over my head. That being just friends would never be good enough for me.

Madison: Good night, hotshot.

Without upsetting Imogen, I reached over and dropped my cell phone on the nightstand. It was late, and after a stressful day, I was tired. But my mind was also busy.

It wasn’t unusual, though. When you had so much to balance, a moment’s peace didn’t come easy. There was always something.

I was always thinking about work or whether I could afford my next round of bills. Trying to arrange Imogen’s childcare or worrying about leaving her at pre-K. The constant little voice in the back of my mind whispering that one day, Warren would come back.

Being a mom was hard.

Being a twenty-one-year-old single mom to a strong-minded four-year-old was really freaking hard.

But I did my best. I leaned on the people around me. I spent time with my daughter. I made sure that what I couldn’t give her in materialistic things, I gave her in love and patience and understanding.

I wanted her to know that she came first, always.

But it was exhausting shouldering the burden alone. I hated Warren for what he’d done to me—to our daughter—but there was no denying I missed the connection. The feeling that someone had your back no matter what.

Old emotions rushed to the surface as I stroked Imogen’s hair, but I swallowed down the tears. I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t. Because if I started…

It had been so long since I’d had anything for myself. It was hard not to latch onto those pesky little butterflies that soared every time I saw Austin’s name flash up on my cell phone. But I couldn’t afford to lose myself to the addictive feelings.

The thrill.

Because for as much as I hoped to meet somebody one day, Austin Hart was not a forever type of guy.

And I couldn’t afford to lose my heart to Mr. Right Now.

* * *

“Jerrykins.” Imogen bolted toward him, but like always, he caught her, bundling her up into his arms.

“How was your day, princess?”

“It was okay.”

“Only okay?” His brows furrowed as he held tightly. “Uh-oh, whose butt do I need to kick?”

“Keenan Jackson said I’m a little miss knows-it-all.”

He glanced at me, and I smothered a smile. “It’s true. Miss Lauren confirmed Keenan did, in fact, call her that.”

“Sounds like Keenan doesn’t have any manners.”

“I’m not a knows-it-all.”

“Damn straight. You’re a very intelligent, confident four-year-old. Nothing wrong with that, princess.”

“That’s what I told him,” she fumed. “And he said that nobody likes a smart aleck. So I told him that my mom and Uncle Jerrykins and Fawn and Grammy and Pops all woves me just the ways I am and that he’s just jealous because he doesn’t have all of you.”

“And how did Keenan take that?” Jeremiah flashed me a bemused look, and I shrugged.

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