Chapter 3
Don’t You Dare
Two weeks later, I threw my apron over my shoulder as I barreled through the swinging kitchen door. “Sorry, Susie! I got caught up,” I exclaimed.
I loved it when Anita gave me free rein in the kitchen, something she’d been doing more and more often of late. But it was too easy to lose track of time.
“You won’t believe how good these taste!” I squeaked.
As she opened her mouth to speak, I popped a gold-dusted chocolate truffle inside.
She closed her eyes and hummed around the bittersweet ganache.
I fairly inflated with light. Lifting the container in my hands, I explained, “There’s more where that came from. I’m putting these on the sideboard for everybody.”
“Oh, yeah,” she moaned, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with her forefinger. “Those are to die for.” She pressed her lips tight and narrowed her gaze. “You’re wasted in this place, kiddo.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” I waved her off. “I’m getting exactly what I need right here.”
Peace.
Safety.
Purpose.
Belonging.
And though I was run off my feet, it provided rest for my overworked mind.
Funny thing about the stress of the past, it continued to exact its toll long after I escaped its source. It was slow-going, but I was getting better. I saw no need to hurry the process.
She began to protest further but knowing where she was going, I cut her off. “I’ll know when It’s time to move on.”
Perhaps I’d start putting out some feelers.
She grunted, satisfied with my reply.
“Have we been busy?”
She sat down in the chair, something she’d been doing increasingly often. “Just beginning to pick up now.” She quirked a brow and looked at her watch. “You good to handle things if I head out in a bit?”
I nodded. “No problem.”
She heaved herself up. “Right. Going to fix the shelf and head home.”
“You need help?”
She waved me away. “I got it.”
On my next pass from the kitchen, I noticed Kian and Isaiah seating themselves at their usual table. Since we met at Mary Lou’s, whenever possible, I sat them in my section. Looked like I’d trained them well because when they came in now, they headed there immediately.
Kian had yet to take me up on my offer and call me.
I no longer expected it, but I let myself enjoy him and sweet, sunny Isaiah whenever they came to Susie Q’s on my shift.
I walked over with a smile on my face. It was bigger than it should have been to be considered strictly polite, but I couldn’t have muted it if I tried. “How are my favorite guys?”
I sounded just like Susie. Which was good because Kian wouldn’t read anything into my words. He had no way of knowing just how true it was.
“Today was the last day of school,” Isaiah informed me with a wide grin, his eyes bright.
“Yeah? Congratulations, Ace!”
“Yup!” He nodded, his brow furrowing. “My name is Isaiah.”
“Ace is a nickname. It just means you’re number one.”
His face lit up then immediately fell. “I’m going to be under dad’s feet all summer.”
Kian groaned. “That’s not exactly what I said.”
Isaiah frowned. “You said,” he lowered his voice in imitation of his dad, “we can’t have you stuck under my feet all summer.”
Kian raised his eyebrows in supplication. “Completely different connotation, right?”
“Right,” I grinned. “Have you inquired at the resort and the rec center? I think they host a summer camp for several weeks in the summer.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing in consideration before meeting mine. “I’ll look into it. Thank you. Usually, my mom looks after all of this for me.” He shrugged and offered a small smile. “It kind of escaped me.”
I smiled back.
I’d do so much more for him if I could, but he seemed to distance himself on purpose.
Isaiah piped up. “Dad said we’d come to Susie Q’s to celebrate.” He tilted his head to the side then added conspiratorially, “We celebrate at Susie Q’s a lot.”
I huffed out a laugh.
Kian rubbed a rough hand over his hair and scrunched his nose. Hazel eyes twinkling, his face the barest shade of pink, he grinned up at me ruefully. “He doesn’t let me get away with anything.”
Isaiah laughed, his eyes lighting up as he looked up at his dad. “Like Mom, right Dad? You said I’m just like Mom!”
For a bare moment, the mask Kian wore cracked.
Grief.
Remorse.
And the steely, unyielding grip of guilt.
The weight of suffering in his eyes was more than should be allotted one gentle soul.
My heart hurt for him. Where Sage Ridge opened its arms and welcomed me in, it took one look at him and spat him back out.
I felt that yearning pull I always did when he was near. Forcing myself to step back, I turned my attention to Isaiah. “Do you like chocolate?”
He nodded, his big, blue eyes shining brightly in his little face. “A lot,” he stressed.
I bent toward him. “I’ll see what I can do about taking this party to the next level.”
When they went to order, I shook my head. “Oh, no. You’re going to let me surprise you tonight.”
Kian’s eyebrows rose.
Flushing, I bent toward Isaiah. “Do you trust me?”
He beamed at me and nodded.
I slanted a glance toward Kian. “You?”
He nodded warily.
I smiled widely. “You won’t regret it.”
Reaching out, I cupped my hand over Kian’s shoulder and squeezed, intending to communicate gratitude for his faith in me and reassurance that it was well placed. Instead, my hand met a solid ball of muscle that barely gave under my fingertips.
“Whoa,” I breathed.
Kian’s hazel eyes widened and flew up to meet mine.
I squeezed again and whispered, “Holy muscles, Batman.”
He stiffened and then began to shake with laughter.
I snatched my hand back and shook my head as I snorted and backed away. Waving my hands in the air, I grinned and professed, “They have a mind of their own sometimes!”
Running to the kitchen, my face uncharacteristically pink, I cajoled the cook to put together a feast made to my order in exchange for a custom box of gourmet chocolates for his very pregnant daughter.
By the time I came back out, Kian’s table was empty.
I stopped short, surprised by the intensity of my disappointment. Did something happen? Did I scare him off?
And then I heard his deep chuckle.
My head turned toward the sound I recognized after only hearing it a couple of times.
Kian stood beside Susie. With a small shelf in one hand, and the other hand hitched onto his hip, he nodded as Susie explained what she wanted, hands waving, eyes flashing, and mouth turned up in a smile as usual.
Isaiah stood beside his dad, his hands on his hips, looking up at Susie with a serious look on his little face.
When Kian nodded, Isaiah nodded.
When Kian smiled, Isaiah smiled.
And when Kian said, “Ten minutes. Tops. You have a hammer I can borrow?”
Isaiah turned to Kian before running after Susie. “I’ll be right back, Dad. Gonna get that hammer for us.”
I circled my tables and returned to the kitchen. When I came back out, the shelf was secured to the wall, Susie was walking out the door, and Kian and Isaiah had settled back in their seats.
I delivered their charcuterie board with a flourish.
Isaiah rose to his knees on the bench seat, his eyes wide. “Wow!”
Kian’s eyebrows rose as he stated, “This is not on the menu.”
My stomach lurched. Did I overstep? I always overstepped.
You just don’t know when to stop, Bridget.
“It’s specially made for you guys. And it covers all the major food groups!” I asserted, swallowing my doubts as I turned to Isaiah. “Eat all the veggies so your dad doesn’t give me trouble, okay?”
Isaiah snagged a baby carrot and chomped down. “Is one enough?”
I shook my head and smiled at him as I walked away. “That’s up to Daddy.”
I watched them surreptitiously, and every time I looked over, they were tucking into their food with gusto.
Warmth spread clear through to my bones.
Kian deserved a slice of happiness.
Isaiah did, too, but I worried about him less. He had his dad. He had Aaron and Nadine. He had me as much as his dad would let him have me, and I had no doubt he’d soon compile a long list of friends and admirers.
Kian had nobody. Because while Aaron welcomed Isaiah with open arms, he wanted nothing to do with his father.
I’d held out hope until the last minute that Aaron or Wren would invite Kian to help with the baby shower for Aaron and Nadine’s coming baby, and Kian’s first grandchild.
Everyone in our small group of friends played a role in organizing the food, the invites, the decorations, transporting gifts, and even building the baby furniture.
Only Kian was left out in the cold.
More than once, I’d brought it up to Wren, but having tried unsuccessfully to talk to Aaron, she was at a loss.
It broke my heart.
When Isaiah pushed back from the table, I brought them a takeaway container to pack up the leftovers.
“I hope you left room for dessert. I did promise you chocolate.”
Isaiah rubbed his little food belly. “Always room for dessert, right, Dad?”
“Right, buddy,” Kian replied softly.
Right, buddy.
So sweet.
Aaron had missed out on all that Kian had to offer.
No wonder he was angry.
In the kitchen, I scooped vanilla ice cream into a bowl, topped it with a swirl of freshly whipped cream, and covered the whole lot with a generous drizzle of chocolate syrup though the ingredients made me cringe.
Then I chopped the chocolates I’d crafted so diligently hours before and sprinkled them over the top and around the perimeter.
For Kian, I kept his chocolates intact beside his ice cream.
Something in me wanted to preen.
But when I set it down in front of them, my heart jumped to my throat as my hands curled into my sides.
I’d never had good instincts when it came to kids.
They probably didn’t even like this kind of chocolate.
I mean, objectively, I could see it was pretty. But when you’re a kid, what does pretty matter?
I pressed my lips together, my brow furrowing. Suddenly, I wanted to snatch the plates back and get them a slice of apple pie, something I knew they liked.
What if he didn’t want Isaiah to have so much sugar? What if it made his stomach sick?
I bit my lip. “I hope you like it,” I rushed on, “if you don’t, no worries, I’ll get you plain vanilla ice cream. Or apple pie. Or both. I can get you both.”
“Don’t you dare,” Kian ordered, his deep voice firm.
My wide-eyed gaze snapped to his.
He held my eyes unflinchingly, a look of reproach in his. “Don’t second guess yourself.”
I blinked in surprise, my palm slamming down over my womb.
Where the fuck did that tone come from?
And what did I have to do to hear it again?
His eyes hooded and dropped to my hand before returning to my gob-smacked face.
“Can I have more after this?” Isaiah interrupted what was sure to have been a stellar mental orgasm.
Kian turned his attention to his son and smiled. “How about you finish what you’ve got, first.”
Ignoring the ice cream, Kian picked up one of my chocolates.
I watched with bated breath as he lifted it, and his pretty lips parted.
A sudden flash of jealousy flared to life that any other woman had had the privilege of touching him or kissing him.
Including Wren.
Rocked by surprise for the second time that night, I shook the thought away. After everything I’d gone through with Gary, single dads were out of the question.
It was simply a matter of empathy. I understood what it was to be isolated and alone.
Kian deserved a friend. I knew what it was like to have none.
That friend was going to be me. And that was all I could offer him.
His straight, white teeth met the creamy milk chocolate and snapped the crisp, shiny shell. Closing his eyes, he hummed as he chewed.
Voice low, eyelids heavy, he rumbled, “So good, Bridge.”
I swear my knees wobbled.