His confusion clears, but only a bit. “Not on purpose.”
I point at him. “That. Exactly. As soon as a guy finds out I’m a single mother, he either runs for the hills or starts filling out anapplication to be Harper’s daddy. I’m not looking to get married again, and men don’t seem to understand a single mother might like being single.”
“Why not?” The confusion is gone, but it’s been replaced by something worse. Something that looks a hell of a lot like pity.
“Because men don’t seem to understand that a woman can survive without a big strong man to sit on the couch and watch football all day.”
He snorts. “Nice. But I meant, why don’t you want to get married again?”
I stare at him pointedly. “I’m not doing this with you, Bryson. You can meet Harper, but you don’t get to dig into my personal life or be my friend.”
Wow. Okay. That came out harsher than I intended.
Bryson must still know me pretty well, because he doesn’t get offended. “Not every guy will be the chickenshit loser I was. There are some actual good guys out there. Better than a guy who’s content with casual and doesn’t put in enough effort to find out you have a daughter.”
I laugh, back on firm footing. “So quick to judge. He’s been building a cat gym for me. I haven’t given him much time to ask questions.”
“You have a cat?” Bryson says. Then he shakes his head. “Never mind. I should be more surprised you only have one cat. Didn’t you want a whole farm of animals when we got married?”
“I wanted a lot of things when we got married.” I can barely remember the naïve, trusting idiot I was back then. I was so sure I had it all figured out, and I was dead wrong.
Bryson is oddly quiet as we walk around the block and back up the other side to his car and mine.
***
Mom smiles over at me as she pushes Harper on the swing, and I narrow my eyes, as if I can remind her with my facial expression to behave.
“I can’t believe she took the day off work for this,” I say to my father, who’s snapping pictures of Harper as she laughs and swings.
“Yes, you can.”
I sigh. “Yes, I can. Why can’t you trust me? I’m not going to let Bryson run off with Harper. He seems to sincerely just want to be a part of her life. I think he might have actually matured.”
Dad grunts. “I always believed Bryson had a good heart, so I can believe that. And I trust you. But he needs to understand exactly who’s going to be coming for him if he hurts you or Harper in any way.”
I roll my eyes, but I don’t bother to remind him that Bryson could out-walk them, much less outrun them.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, patting his arm. “I appreciate you having my back.”
“I’ve got your back too, sis.” Asher throws an arm over my shoulders and squeezes me close in a breath-stealing hug. “You’re lucky I happened to be heading out for a smoothie just in time to see you and the family here at the park. I’m a little hurt you didn’t invite me.”
I shove against his side, but he’s an immovable boulder of obnoxiousness. “I didn’t invite you because I don’t want you here.”
He gives me another squeeze and lets me go. “Don’t worry. I promise not to punch your asshole ex-husband anywhere he can’t recover from.”
I glare at my father. “You told him?”
Dad shrugs. “Bryson needs to see a united front, so he doesn’t get any ideas about taking off again.”
I face my brother and poke him in the chest. “Do not punch Bryson or I’m going to tell your sweet wife about the time you thought there was a ghost in your room.”
He shrugs. “It’s a good story. I’ve already told her from my perspective, but she’d probably enjoy your version too.”
Damn it. I forgot that nothing embarrasses my brother. “Please, Asher. I’m trying to give Bryson a chance. Don’t be a dick.”
He gasps and presses a hand to his chest. “I am only ever a gentleman,” he says in a weird accent somewhere between Australian and Russian.
“Sure,” I say, voice laced with sarcasm.
