Chapter Six #3
That got to her most, and her throat ached with a tightness she didn’t know how to explain away.
Ben scooted closer to Vander’s side, describing some detailed game strategy and Summer’s heart split right down the middle watching them together.
It was sweet.
And it scared her to death.
Because it was painfully obvious what Ben was missing. Her own father was wonderful with Ben, patient and loving. But he was a grandpa. He came for holidays and school breaks and fishing trips.
That wasn’t the same as…this.
This was a man sitting on the floor at seven-thirty in the morning listening with total seriousness as a seven-year-old explained video game rules like national security depended on it.
But the dangerous part was that Ben was already getting attached—just the thing she warned Vander against.
He wasn’t faking it—he was a natural with Ben, listening like every word he said really mattered.
Her heart kicked painfully in her chest.
No. Absolutely not. This was exactly what she’d tried to stop last night.
Ben suddenly pointed at the kitchen. “Tell her.”
Vander glanced at her again. “Go eat before it gets cold.”
She blinked. “What?”
“We made breakfast.” Pride filled Ben’s voice.
She looked toward the kitchen and saw a plate waiting on the counter with another plate on top to keep it warm.
She didn’t even care what was on that plate—she already loved it.
Her throat closed so fast she couldn’t swallow. Nobody made her breakfast.
“Ben helped with the eggs,” Vander said.
“I only burned one a little.”
Vander cocked a brow at him. “Two.”
Ben gasped. “Traitor. I thought you weren’t going to tell on me.”
He shrugged. “Moms see everything anyway.”
Ben studied him for a beat and nodded as the truth of Vander’s words sank in.
Summer laughed before she could stop herself. The sound startled her as much as the new warmth filling the room.
And Vander watched her too close, that expression in his eyes—reserved yet soft at the same time—almost pulled her right into his arms.
She folded her arms tightly, trying to pull herself together before this got worse.
Vander’s stare held hers.
“Vander.” It sounded like a plea. “We already talked about this.”
“I know.”
“This can’t turn into…” She gestured between him and Ben because saying it out loud hurt.
His expression closed off in that way that hurt worse than any argument could, not that they ever had any.
“You should eat before it’s cold.”
That should have made all this easier, but the ache in her chest only increased because he respected her boundaries even while looking at her like he wished she’d change her mind.
Ben let out a cry as his video game character fell off a cliff. “Backup! I need backup!”
“I got you, buddy.”
She shook her head and moved toward the kitchen before either of them noticed her eyes filling with tears.
As she pulled off the top plate and saw what was beneath, one tear slipped free. The toast actually had butter melted all the way to the edges. The eggs were a little crispy on the edges but someone had taken the care to fold a napkin beside the plate and a coffee mug waited for her to fill it.
It felt…like family.
Emotion closed in the walls of her throat. This was how people ended up in impossible situations—not sex or chemistry but because a man slept on her couch to protect her family and woke up early to make breakfast with her son.
Through a haze of tears and blinking rapidly to hold them back, she poured coffee and stared out the window, trying not to lose it completely at how carefree Ben sounded as he laughed in the other room.
Vander’s voice did something entirely different to her. It was low and teasing. It sounded like he belonged here.
How quickly her little world seemed to shift around him once he stepped into it.
She settled with her food and began to eat. The eggs, though crispy, were perfectly seasoned, and the toast she didn’t have to make for herself tasted gourmet.
Footsteps sounded and she glanced up to see Vander in the doorway. She swore she could smell the mountain air clinging to the man.
“You should have sent Ben in to wake me,” she said.
“You needed sleep.” His voice was a tender growl.
She stared into her coffee. “I don’t usually sleep like that.”
“I know.” The certainty in his voice made her glance up sharply.
And there it was again.
That look.
Not lust or nonchalance.
Care.
The kind she’d tried very hard not to need from anybody.
Ben shouted from the living room. “Vander! You paused it!”
“Coming.”
But he didn’t move right away.
Summer tightened her grip on the mug. “You’re making this harder.”
Pain flickered across his face before he hid it again. “I know that too.”
God.
She looked away first because she had no defense against a man who answered honestly.
He finally stepped backward toward the living room again, giving her space exactly when she needed it.
Her breakfast felt warm in her stomach. The little duplex felt full and safe.
And deep down, she knew the truly dangerous thing wasn’t the threats the cameras were watching out for.
It was how badly a piece of her already wanted this to become permanent.