Chapter 13
13
BEN
“Mom, I’m hungry. Can we get something to eat?” Evan moans, and I could cup his cheeks and kiss him right now.
“Me too.” I rub my stomach for theatrics. “Rex and I were going to grab some fish and chips from the Blue Goose down at the beach.”
Evan’s head snaps up to his mom. “Can we get fish and chips, too?”
I should feel ashamed, but I don’t. Using a kid to spend more time with his mom is underhanded … not very upstanding … but I am a man beneath the uniform and badge I wear. The badge to which I swore to serve and protect … to uphold laws and keep the community safe. Technically, I’m not breaking any laws.
She messes up his hair and leans in close, taking a whiff. “You smell like wet dog. We can grab lunch at home after you shower and change.” Evan’s face drops, and so does mine. Both of our shoulders roll inward with disappointment. Rex barks up at Hope, and she chuckles as she looks at the three of us. Rolling her eyes, a hint of a smile touches her lips—a genuine one this time. “All right, then. I guess the shower can wait.”
Evan cheers loudly, but I keep my celebration close to my chest, only sharing a simple smile with Hope. “Fantastic. Let’s go.”
Rex and I climb into my truck, while Evan and Hope climb into her car, then we make our way down to the beach and the Blue Goose . We grab a table on the terrace overlooking the water, so we can sit with Rex, then I head inside to order lunch after arguing with Hope because I refused to take her money. She’s clearly used to being independent.
I guess even when her husband was alive, he would have been frequently absent and she would have been the primary caregiver and responsible for their welfare. That builds a toughness and strength not all women have. It’s admirable … not to mention sexy.
On my way back to the table, I pause a moment, watching Hope and Evan laugh about something. Without knowing them all that well, I imagine there hasn’t been a lot of laughter in their home over the last six years.
There’s been an obvious change in Hope since I first met her. She seemed heavily weighed down in her grief. She was closed and guarded. Then she opened up a little last time at the shelter and shared a little of her pain with me. Today, I watched her laugh and smile with Evan. They weren’t fake like her previous smiles, and I wonder if I can help Hope, so all her smiles are genuine.
The breeze blows a honey-colored curl across her cheek, and she raises a slender finger to pull it away, tucking it behind her ear without breaking her attention from her son. They seem close. I can’t imagine the strength of their bond forged through devastation.
I know after Seb and I lost Tahlia, our bond strengthened because we experienced shared pain, even though I was closer to her. He still felt the devastation of losing our best friend deeply.
Hope glances up, and her eyes catch on me; the aquamarine is so light, almost sparkling out here in the afternoon sunlight. She smiles gently, but it isn’t fake, so I’ll take it.
My feet move of their own accord, carrying me back to the table. I plop the number and our sodas in the middle and take a seat. “Thanks for helping me bathe the dogs today. We got through them much quicker than I would have on my own.”
“I had fun, even if I stink like a wet dog now.” Evan gives his mom the side eye, then leans forward and takes a whiff of her. “Ha! You smell like a wet dog, too, Mom.” He points at her as he leans away like she smells offensive.
I lift my T-shirt to my nose, then pull it away quickly. “Pretty sure we all smell like wet dog at this point.”
Evan leans in for a smell. “Yep, you stink too!”
“Evan!” Hope snaps, creases forming between her brows as she looks at her son with disapproval. “Where are your manners?” She looks at me. “I’m sorry. Wyatt and I instilled manners in Evan, even if he seems to forget them whenever he’s around you.”
I wave off her concern. “We’re just having some fun.” A server drops off a large basket of chips, fish, and calamari rings, along with salt, vinegar, and ketchup. Evan’s eyes widen comically. I grab the steamed fish for Rex and then wave my hand across the table. “Dig in.”
Hope tucks her loose hair behind her ear. “Thank you for lunch again,” she says as Evan reaches into the basket and grabs a handful of chips, stuffing them into his mouth unceremoniously. “Evan! Oh, my gosh, Ben’s going to think you have absolutely no manners at all. What is wrong with you?” Her neck and cheeks flush that gorgeous pink I love so much.
He drops his eyes and curls his shoulders inward. “Sorry. I’m just so hungry, and Ben doesn’t mind.”
As much as it doesn’t bother me, I need to support Hope. “As much as I love that you’re comfortable with me, you need to listen to and respect your mom. She’s trying to teach you how to be a good person, and how to behave in different situations.”
He nods slowly. “Sorry, Ben.”
Hope’s posture visibly softens, and her features relax. She mouths the words, “thank you” and I feel her appreciation fill the space between us. Supporting her in that moment felt right, and I know I’ll strive to always do so. I’m drawn to this woman like I haven’t been to anyone before her. The connection I feel to her and Evan is too strong to ignore, and I’m going to make it my mission to become an integral part of their lives.
It sounds weird, but I believe I was destined to meet Evan and Hope—to make them mine and keep them forever. I glance up to the clear sky; maybe Tahlia had something to do with it.
I pop a chip into my mouth and chew. “So, Evan, what’s your favorite subject at school?”
He pauses and looks at his mom, a frown marring his features. “I don’t like school.”
“I wasn’t a fan of school either, but I always loved PE and social studies.” I shrug. “There must be something you like.”
He drops his chin to his chest. “I like writing stories,” he mumbles, and my eyebrows shoot up. He brings his warm brown eyes to mine. “Don’t tell the other kids. Mom’s the only person who knows.”
“I won’t.” I glance at Hope. “Your secret’s safe with me. What types of stories do you like to write?”
His eyes brighten as he sits up straight. “I like to write crime stories with twists and turns that you don’t see coming.” He looks at Hope. “They’re like the books Mom likes to read.”
“They’re really good too,” Hope says, pride warming her voice.
“I bet they are. Well, if you need any help with the law enforcement side of things, I’m always happy to give advice,” I offer.
He pushes his shoulders back. “Really? That’d be awesome.”
I turn to Hope. “So, who are your favorite authors?”
She rolls her eyes to the roof above us. “I haven’t read for several years now, but I loved John Grisham, James Patterson, and Patricia Cornwell. I still buy their new releases, even though I’ve lost my reading mojo.” She forces a chuckle, like it’s no big deal that she’s lost her reading mojo, but as she tucks her curls behind her ear, I sense she misses the hobby more than she lets on.
“I have to admit, I’m not a huge reader. I find it difficult to sit for long enough to enjoy a book. I’m more inclined to watch a show on TV.”
“Mom always has the TV on, even when she’s not watching it,” Evan declares.
I look at Hope, wanting her to open up and tell me something else about herself, but I don’t want this to be an interrogation, even though I want to know everything about her, so I keep my mouth shut.
She raises and drops one smooth shoulder carelessly. “I like to have it on for background noise. When Evan’s upstairs doing his schoolwork or playing his games, it’s too quiet downstairs.” And lonely, I suspect . I hear exactly what she’s not saying.