“You heard me.” Her lips don’t even twitch. She’s not joking at all. “Beg.”
My cheeks heat against my will. My heart thunders in my chest. She’s got me so on my heels it’s not even funny. I can’t allow it to last. But can I suck it up for the sake of making her turn her ass around?
Maybe.
“Please stay.”
She doesn’t react other than to arch an eyebrow.
“Don’t leave.”
Her lips roll together in the most distracting way.
I sigh, propping my hands on my hips and staring up at the stippled ceiling above me.
“Luke is everything to me, and I want him to have a fun summer. Proper fun. Sometimes he’s stuck out on this ranch with a bunch of adults, and I worry he doesn’t get enough attention from me because I work such long hours. And I need help because it’s all just way too much. I’m fucking exhausted.” My chin drops, and I look her in the eye. “I really need your help. Please stay.”
The column of her throat shifts, and her eyes take on a slightly glassy quality. With a few soft steps, she comes to stand right in front of me. She smells like citrus and vanilla. Like some fancy pastry at the coffee shop in town. I can’t help but lean in just a little bit.
She draws close. It almost feels too close in the dimly lit room. Too intimate in the quiet house. It feels like the kind of moment where you could make a mistake and no one would ever know.
And maybe I already made a mistake tonight, or maybe I’m about to make one. Usually I’m so sure of myself. But in this instance, I’m struggling to tell right from wrong.
“Fine.” She sticks her hand out to me, and I instantly let my palm meet hers. I can feel the dainty bone in her wrist against the pads of my calloused fingers. “I will send you texts. I will keep him mostly sugar free. But if you act like a dick, I’m going to call you out on it.”
“I have no doubt you will, Red.”
We’re still shaking hands. It’s a handshake that has lasted longer than is proper. It’s a threat or a promise—I’m just not sure which.
6
Willa
Willa: I just got up.
Cade: Okay?
Willa: I’m making coffee.
Cade: Alright.
Willa: I’m getting dressed for the day. Panties? CHECK.
Cade: Too much information.
Willa: Luke is now awake.
Cade: Oh good.
Willa: He peed.
Cade: The bed?
Willa: No. In the toilet. Sounded like a big one. Like when Austin Powers comes out of being frozen or whatever.
Cade: Why are you telling me this?
Willa: Just keeping you apprised of everything we do!!!
Cade: I already regret telling you that.
Willa: Oh, I’m just getting started.
Cade: Willa.
Willa: Remember that time you BEGGED me to stay?
“Let’s just put some back in the bag!” Luke says, standing on a chair beside me at the kitchen counter as we stare into the bowl of pancake mix.
The pancake mix that is now more chocolate chips than batter. I’m no mathematician, but I’m pretty sure this ratio is off. I forgot that children’s motor skills aren’t super refined and handing Luke a bag of chocolate chips to put in might not have been the most strategic plan I’ve come up with in my life.
“Dude. We can’t put them back in.”
He shrugs, not looking sad about it. “I guess we’ll just have to eat them.”
I try not to laugh. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he did it on purpose. “Guess so.”
We move his chair over to the stove, and I read him the riot act about hot elements, telling him that his dad will bury me in a hay field somewhere if I let him get burned.
He giggles and tells me I’m hilarious.
I’ve never felt cooler than I do hanging out with a five-year-old.
Especially when he sits across from me at the table, pats his belly with sticky chocolate fingers and exclaims, “You might be better at cooking than my dad!”
I point my fork at him. “I cannot wait to tell him that.”
His little blue eyes go comically wide. “You can’t tell him that. He’ll be sad.”
“Don’t stress, little man,” I reply, trying not to melt over how sweet it is that he’s so worried about his dad. “Your dad will be able to handle the loss.”
He sighs deeply and gazes at me expectantly. “What now?”
“Anything you want.” I grab my plate as he picks up his and hands it to me.
“Anything?”
I peer down at him, one brow shifting up. “Almost anything.”