“Christian?”
The woman’s voice was harder to ignore, though it reached Hallie’s ears in a gargled vibration more than an actual sound. Like when someone tried to speak underwater.
Her mind was playing tricks on her, doing whatever it could to stop her heart. But it wouldn’t work. She’d like nothing more than to stay in the blissful oblivion of his affections forever.
She slid her hands across his shoulders and down to his chest, basking in the solid realness of him. Clutching his shirt, she drew him closer, closer, until …
“Oh!”
At the voice, Christian cursed, flying away from Hallie so fast the movement knocked her backward. She bumped her head against the fridge, an inferno raging across her face.
A woman stood in the entrance to the kitchen, her mouth dropped open in a wide O. Multiple reusable shopping bags dropped to the floor. Her light brows raised, and the way she’d pulled back her dark blonde hair gave Hallie a direct view of the shock in her eyes.
The same brown eyes that she’d studied in depth on the man now standing as far as he could get and still be in the room. Christian refused to look at her as his words confirmed what had taken Hallie only a second to understand.
“Hey … Mom.”
“What’re you doing here?” Christian asked, his brain still tangled in the aftereffects of that kiss. He rubbed at the back of his neck where the skin burned. His gaze flicked to Hallie over by the fridge. She’d already turned away, hurriedly piping frosting on the macaron halves on the cooling rack.
Mom’s whole countenance buzzed with excitement, but thankfully, she kept her evaluation of what she’d just witnessed to herself. She popped a hand on one hip. “I haven’t seen my only son for weeks and those are the first words I get from you? Where’s my hug?” The fond smile that followed took the sting out of her reprimand.
Giving his head a little shake, he stepped to her, stooping low enough to wrap his arms around her. “It’s good to see you, Mom. When did you get home?”
“Late last night.” She searched his face for a long moment like she hadn’t seen him for years, not weeks. “I would’ve called when I got back, but I thought you’d be asleep.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Who’s your friend?”
The burning in his neck spread to his face. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Mom, this is Hallie.”
At hearing her name, Hallie set down the piping bag and slowly faced his mother. To the casual observer, she seemed totally at ease except for the white-knuckled clasping of her hands. Christian felt for her. There was no way to make this situation less awkward.
Clearing his throat, he addressed Hallie next. “Hallie, meet my mom.”
She fanned her hand out in a wave. “Hey, Mrs. Gustafson.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Hallie.” Mom took a step toward her and panic sparked in Christian’s chest. She was a hugger. And thoughthe younger woman had proved herself calm and rational in every situation, he doubted an embrace would help this one.
Hallie stared at him with wide eyes as Mom’s arms circled her shoulders. Then slowly, tentatively, she returned the affection.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Mom said, after a few long seconds, ending the embrace. “If I’d known Christian would beentertaininga guest, I would’ve called first.”
He didn’t miss the emphasis on the word entertaining, or the underlying giddiness behind it. A low groan sounded in his throat. He’d be hearing about this later.
“It’s okay.” Hallie’s voice wobbled a bit. “I was about to go pick up the girls.” She eyed Christian, and her face turned even more red. “I’m sure you and your mom want to … catch up.”
Nope. Definitely not. He’d rather catch up withHallie.All week, Isla and Penelope had dominated her attention up to the minute she’d left for the night. And Hallie had seemed more than willing to give them all her focus. He loved watching the tender way she interacted with his girls, but he couldn’t ignore the nagging suspicion that she’d used it as an excuse to avoid talking to him. She’d kept a respectful distance.
He didn’t like it at all.
Even though he knew he should prefer it that way.
Mom looked at her watch. “Oh, is it pick-up time already?”
Technically, school didn’t end for another two hours. But Hallie gathered her purse from the counter near the back door, throwing it over her shoulder. “It’s always good to get to the front of the line. I’ll clean up my mess when we get back. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Gustafson.” She beat a hasty retreat from the kitchen. The front door slammed shut a second later.
If only Christian could be so lucky. He ran a hand down his jaw, the facial scruff prickling his fingertips as he prepared to face the music.
“Has she been helping you out with the girls, or something?” Mom asked from behind him after a beat of thick silence. “Why aren’t you picking them up?”
He turned around to find her watching him closely. “Yeah,” he said in answer to her first question. He didn’t mention that he was paying her to do it. That would open a whole discussion he wasn’t willing to have.
