2. Chapter 2
Jake
Do not think about the fact that this beautiful woman told you she’s a screamer.
Do not think about the fact that some deeply unhelpful part of your brain immediately wanted context.
It’s disrespectful. She’s a mother. She has responsibilities, probably a husband.
Though I need to check that ring finger…
My feet kept moving as we rounded the corner toward my truck, but my mind was still firmly stuck on my new personal code of conduct, which at this point consisted entirely of not being the worst version of myself in front of a woman who deserved significantly better than my desperate internal monologue.
Focus on normal thoughts.
Normal thoughts, like the weather, training, weightlifting…wondering if I could lift her to sit on my—
No. Stop.
I pressed the keys in my pocket, and the truck blinked obediently.
“Woooooooooow,” her little boy drawled out, and I smiled.
“If I open the door,” I asked him quietly, leaning in like we were negotiating a treaty, “do you think we can convince your mom that I’m not doing it to lure you both into a life of crime?”
He tapped my face—well, actually, it was more of a slap. Weirdly affectionate, though. Is this what kids do? Either way, I was almost sure he didn’t understand a word I’d said, especially when he barked, “Twuck!” into my face, spittle and all.
I felt his mom’s unimpressed stare before I saw it. It was dangerous when it was peripheral, a blur of disapproval hovering at the edge of my vision. It became devastating when I looked up.
Light-green eyes framed with long lashed, verging on the color of the sea glass, entirely unconvinced by me. They narrowed slightly in a way that suggested I was pushing my luck.
My heart did something profoundly inconvenient. My dick was following suit too.
“For the record,” I said, keeping my tone carefully neutral, “this truck is the least impressive part of my personality.”
Her pink lips lifted, joining her eyebrows.
“Do I want to know what the most impressive part is?”
I couldn’t stop the wolf inside from taking over my grin. “My homemade grilled cheese.”
I opened the passenger door slowly, very deliberately nonthreatening, like I was approaching a skittish animal rather than offering a toddler a front-row seat to mechanical heaven.
“Cheese! Twucks!”
The sweetest snorting sound rumbled from her delicate throat as she laughed. “He loves both of those things.”
“We have a lot in common, then,” I said, watching as she moved closer so her son could climb into my truck. Hopping up into the seat, she sat him down on the leather beside her.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away. He was a little ball of sunshine humming and tapping the wheel, wiggling a happy dance, and she was so in tune with everything he did, anticipating his every move.
She knew he’d reach for the center console and stopped him before it happened.
An unwarranted thought popped into my head: would my mom have been this way with me too?
I’d probably have to call my therapist if I opened that can of worms.
Instead, I leaned against the door and watched as their matching light-blonde hair glistened in the sunlight through the windows. I wanted to ask their names, wanted to ask her number too, but I also didn’t want to push my luck here.
“Beep, Mommy, beep!”
She kept her hands around his waist, but looked at me. “Can he beep the horn? I know it’ll be loud, but…”
“Beep away, little man.”
He didn’t hesitate. His entire body committed to it, small palm slamming down with the kind of reckless joy only toddlers possess. The horn blared through the street, gaining attention and a few stray beeps in return. I winced instinctively at the volume, even as I laughed when he did it again.
“Okay,” she said, leaning forward to pry his hand up, placing a chaste kiss to it. “We’ve announced ourselves to the world. That’s enough, baby.”
“More, more!” he demanded again, his tiny body wriggling in her grip with a level of determination I usually only saw in grown men fighting for a loose ball on match day.
“Absolutely not. I think you’ve created a monster,” she told me, voice warm yet resigned.
He twisted again, reaching for the wheel, and she huffed out a breath that pushed a stray strand of hair from her face as she tried to wrangle him back.
“Okay—No, we’re done,” she said as she shifted her grip. “We have to go meet your uncle now buddy.”
That perked his ears up. “Unca Nighty?”
Smiling, she pulled him out of the truck. “Yeah, let’s go.”
I wasn’t sure who Unca Nighty was, but I really didn’t want this to be over so soon. Her eyes caught mine, and my brain started yelling ask her name, just ask her name, but then her little guy squirmed, and she had to focus back on him.
“Okay, okay, we’re going,” she said, more firmly now, bouncing him as he twisted the opposite way. “We’ve caused enough chaos for one morning.”
“I happen to like chaos,” I said, hoping she’d stay a little longer.
Those hypnotizing eyes captured me again, narrowing at my sincerity, and my heart cantered. Her mouth opened and closed, no words forming, but my eyes were like a magnet to those plump lips moving all the same. “I’m sure you have a hundred things to do today.”
Already turning away, I didn’t get a chance to answer and tell her that I really didn’t.
“Thanks for entertaining my tiny dictator,” she said over her shoulder.
“Anytime,” I said. Realistically, I knew it was unlikely I’d see her again, and it wasn’t like she owed me anything, despite me wanting more time with her.
She hesitated for a few seconds, just long enough that I thought she might turn back, but the wriggling toddler won out, and the moment slipped clean through my hands.
“Come on, baby,” she murmured as she walked away.
I stayed where I was, one hand still resting on the open door, watching them go.