Chapter 2
Caught Me
The kitchen door swung closed behind me as Anita twisted around to wag her eyebrows at me in the universal signal all females understood as the hot man alert.
My gaze moved past her and stopped dead.
He stood, tall and well-built, his chocolate-brown hair tousled like some lucky woman had just recently allowed him out of bed.
It was an excellent look on him.
My eyes dropped, instinctively taking a longer, more leisurely look.
Long legs encased in faded jeans ended in a pair of work boots that had seen better days. A loose-fitting, nondescript white t-shirt covered his wide chest, barely hinting at the thick muscles underneath.
Sliding down his sharply defined arms, my perusal came to a screeching halt as my imagination shifted into overdrive.
Because he had the kind of hands that looked capable of building things.
Like orgasms.
I tilted my head to the side as my eyes skipped along on their happy journey up the veins in his forearms, over the swell of his biceps, and along the line of his shoulder to his throat. What was it about a strong throat that so did it for me? I mean, it’s just an Adam’s apple.
Oh, but the cords on the sides.
Those I could just lick.
I sighed happily, my eyes tracing a sharp jaw stubbled with shadow, the prettiest lips I’d ever seen on a man, and smiling hazel eyes.
Hazel eyes that smiled directly into mine.
I blinked in surprise then barked out a laugh. “Caught me.”
He grinned, his eyes full of mischief. It was contagious, and I could not help but twinkle back at him.
I came out from behind the counter and stuck out my hand. “I’m Bridget. If we’re going to be friends, you can call me Bridge.”
The windows of his eyes slammed shut. Reaching out, he wrapped his large hand around mine all too briefly. Ducking his head, he gave a short nod. “Kian Matthews.”
Realization broke over me like a cracked egg. “Ohh,” I breathed.
So, this was Aaron’s long-lost father.
Aaron, my friend Wren’s son, had just recently met Kian himself.
Now that I knew who he was, I could see the resemblance, and noted the delicious thickness Aaron would acquire as he matured.
Kian shifted from one foot to the other as I took him in.
Whether she had tried to or not, Wren had chosen well.
I flashed back to meeting Wren for the first time in this very same place and how I’d felt compelled to reach out to her. Life had done its level best to take her down, but she’d held her ground.
I tipped my chin up a fraction. Just as I would hold mine.
Looking at Kian, a similar yearning gripped me.
There was a fragility about him that awakened the dragon in me. I’d barely laid eyes on the man, yet I wanted to gather up everything there was to know about him and hoard it away.
I smiled at him.
Despite the gravity of his current situation, the laugh lines around his eyes made one thing clear. He was a man accustomed to laughter.
When he offered a slow smile back, his relief obvious, my heart lifted as if I’d won something both rare and valuable. Drawn to him like a tightly wound curl that’s been stretched and desperately wants to return to its natural shape, my body leaned into the space between us of its own volition.
It had been years, no, decades, since I’d experienced such a pull.
A small voice snagged my attention and stopped me in my tracks.
“Hi! I’m Isaiah.”
Looking down, I met wide, bright blue eyes set in a sweetly piqued face. He stared up at me expectantly as he extended his small hand.
My heart plummeted. Because I did not date single dads. I would never date another single dad.
Though my shoulders sagged, considering who he was, it was just as well.
With his connection to my sweet friend, Wren, getting involved with him could easily lead to unnecessary complications.
And the last thing I needed were unnecessary complications.
With a quick questioning glance at Kian who answered with a ready nod, I took Isaiah’s hand in mine. “Hello, Isaiah. Is this your first time at Mary Lou’s?”
Grinning up at me, his gap-toothed smile sent a sharp pang deep into my heart as he shook his head. “Nope! Dad and me come here every morning. Dad says there’s wheat and milk and eggs in cinnamon buns which makes them plenty good for breakfast.”
Kian groaned and rubbed a rough hand over his hair, the apparent cause of that sleepy, sexy, bedhead look.
Enchanting me with a crooked smile, he explained, “I’m not a great cook.” Wagging his head back and forth, he smiled wryly. “And I think I’m addicted to Anita’s cinnamon buns.”
Chuckling, I agreed, “You wouldn’t be the first to succumb. They should come with a warning.”
Anita cleared her throat.
All three of us turned toward her at the sound.
Gesturing to the tray she held in her hands, she ordered, “Bridget, take this tray like a good girl and settle Kian and Master Isaiah at the corner table. And take a break,” she barked. “There’s coffee and a bun on there for you as well.”
I rolled my eyes affectionately at my aunt’s rather obvious interference, though mentally I laughed. If there was one thing I was not, it was a ‘good girl.’
I was also not a girl who would push myself on someone who didn’t want me.
I faced Kian with a smile. “If you don’t mind the company?”
Stepping forward to rescue the tray from my aunt, he assured me, “Not at all. Lead the way.”
Once seated, I apologized for her shenanigans.
He held up a hand. “Don’t apologize. She’s been more than kind to us.”
“Hm,” I hummed, lifting my coffee to my lips before taking a sip. “How long have you been here?”
He cleared his throat. “Just a couple of weeks.”
“And how has the rest of Sage Ridge been treating you?” I prodded.
His soft eyes met and held mine. “So far, so good.”
I couldn’t look away. In the space of ten minutes I’d seen those eyes laugh, twinkle with mischief, slam shut like storm doors, soften with relief, and now, I saw those hazel depths fracture with a pain that went too deep to ever be fully exhumed.
I opened my mouth, but the words would not come.
Isaiah had no such problem.
“It’s super cool,” Isaiah trilled. “I got a big brother here.”
Kian smiled indulgently at his son and raised his coffee to his parted lips as Isaiah continued.
“He’s got a lady who’s growing a baby in her belly. Dad says she’s going to lay it like an egg in a few months and I’m going to be an uncle.”
Anita barked out a laugh as Kian slammed his coffee cup down on the table.
Coughing and sputtering, eyes wide and filling with water, he protested, “That’s not exactly what I said.”
Failing to quell my smile, the damn thing spread clear across my face.
“Dad!” Isaiah cocked his head to the side, eyes wide, clearly exasperated. “I asked how the baby came out and you said it came from an egg like a chicken and when it got big enough, she was going to push it out.”
Kian dropped his head. “I did say that.”
Isaiah grinned at me. “See?”
“I mean,” I spread my hands wide, losing the battle against my giggles, “it’s accurate enough.”
“Thank you,” Kian grinned crookedly, his cheeks flushed. “You’re very generous.”
Standing, he smiled as he held his hand out to his son. “Time to go, Isaiah.”
“Can we go to the park?”
“We can absolutely go to the park,” Kian agreed.
Isaiah immediately turned to me. “Do you want to come to the park with us?”
I drew back. “Me?” Glancing up at Kian, I noted the windows of his eyes had, once again, slammed shut.
“Yeah, you like swings?” Isaiah drew my attention back down to him. “I love the swings.”
“Me, too,” I murmured. “The swings are my favorite.”
He brightened. “So, you’ll come?”
“Sorry, buddy,” I answered softly. “I have to get to work soon.”
“Where do you work?”
Kian scrubbed his hand over his face. “That’s enough, Isaiah.”
“It’s okay,” I waved away Kian’s concern and turned my attention back to the precocious child that swung his dad’s hand back and forth while he interrogated me. “I work at Susie Q’s.”
“Dad!” he yelled, staring up at his father with delight. “We love Susie Q’s!”
“We do,” Kian answered, beginning to look distinctly uncomfortable.
“Listen,” I hesitated, wondering if I was walking into a minefield.
True to form, I surged ahead. “I’m also new, but I’ve met some really great people since I’ve been here. Want to give me your number and I’ll let you know next time we’re all going out? Might be a good opportunity for you to get to know some of the guys.”
He flushed further. With his fair skin and open expressions, his face broadcasted his emotions. “I’d like to, truly, but I’m not sure if you know who I am. You may regret asking.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of who you are,” I teased. “You’re Wren’s baby-daddy, you’re here to reconnect with your son who you’ve been desperate to find for years, and when you finally did catch up to him, you found out you’re going to be a grandfather. Does that about sum it up?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah. I’d say you hit it fairly square on the head.”
“So,” I grinned and held out my hand. For some reason, I could not let this sweet man drift away into loneliness. It was a place I knew too well, and those laugh lines assured me it wouldn’t suit him. “Give me your phone and I’ll dial myself in.”
He held it out, and my fingers brushed over the palm of his large, calloused hand.
Ignoring the flutter in my belly and the burning holes my aunt’s gaze drilled into my back, I sent myself a short text before handing it back, careful not to touch him again.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “Have you met Gabe? I think he’s got a kid who might be close to Isaiah’s age.” I furrowed my brow trying to remember. “I’m pretty sure he has a little girl though.”
My gaze dropped to Isaiah whose eyes pinballed back and forth between me and his father. He looked up at me, his eyes shining with hope.
He nodded fervently. “I like girls,” he exclaimed.
A wide smile split Kian’s handsome face, his warm chuckle endearing him to me further. “I bet you do.”
Laughing, I teased, “Based on his genetics, you’ll have to keep a sharp eye on him.”
Kian’s eyebrows flew up as his mouth dropped. He blinked down at me. “Um…”
“Sorry!” I winced. “Too soon?”
He huffed out a softly incredulous laugh and shook his head. “No. Not too soon.” His hazel eyes twinkled. “And quite possibly necessary.”
Taking Isaiah’s hand, he dropped the tray with our leftovers on the counter. At the door, he turned. “You’ll probably see us later at Susie Q’s.” He smiled. “Don’t judge me too harshly.”
I smiled back, then whispered a promise as he turned his back, “I won’t.”