Six Months Ago
CAMERON
“Well, I’m a mom,” she said, her voice soft, like a confession. But her eyes glowed beneath the bar lights, like she couldn’t wait to share more about being a mom. Like that title was the most joyful part of her.
It was possibly the sweetest thing I’d ever seen.
I liked kids. I’d never thought a ton about having them before, but suddenly, I found myself imagining it, thinking about it.
Too fast? I didn’t care.
All I cared about was figuring out how to get this woman’s number in my phone.
“I have an eight-year-old daughter,” she added, her gaze still bright.
She watched my expression carefully, like she wasn’t sure how I would react.
So I smiled, wanting to reassure her that this didn’t deter me.
Not a single bit. I thought about asking for a picture—because moms liked to show off pictures of their kids, right?
—but didn’t want to cross a line or seem overly interested.
After all, I was still just a stranger in a bar.
For now.
So I settled with, “She must be pretty great.”
One single brow rose. “Oh?”
“I mean…” I shrugged. “With a mom like you.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know me.”
I leaned forward on the bar and pinned her with a look. “Sunny, I’m really, really trying to change that here.”
That got a laugh out of her as she shook her head, like she refused to believe that I was being serious.
“She is great, though,” she said when that sparkling laugh died away. “My daughter. She’s smart and funny and more perceptive than I’d probably like her to be at times.”
I sipped on my drink and tried not to stare too much at her mouth when she did the same.
“I can only imagine.”
“You don’t have kids?” she asked, and I shook my head.
“Sometimes my sister drops off my brother-in-law for me to babysit when they’re in town, but technically, he’s twenty-seven.” The corners of her mouth indented in amusement, and I added, “Kids are fun, though.”
“They are,” she agreed and then looked at me curiously, like I was a mystery that needed solving.
I didn’t usually like being examined by strangers, but her eyes on me felt like an odd combination of heaven and sin.
And I never wanted her to look away.