“Right,” I say, brushing my hands on my apron, though they’re already clean. “Of course.”
He shifts his weight, eyes still on me. “You know, I was watching your son help you tonight, and I have to say you raised a good kid.”
I nod, as Noah’s my favorite topic to talk about. “Well, I’m biased, but I think he’s a good one too. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
He pauses for a beat before saying, a little shy but clearly excited, “Hey, the storm’s supposed to stop tonight, and I was thinking about going for a drive to see that old bridge againbefore they tear it down. I’d like to get some photos of it. I was wondering if you’d want to ride along?”
I blink. He’s smiling very genuinely, not flirtatiously, but my stomach still twists.
I don’t date.
Not like I only go out on first dates.
Like I haven’t gone anywhere with anyone since Noah’s dad.
Two hearts died the day Noah’s dad passed, but only one actually stopped beating. I have Noah, and we’ve made a nice life together, despite all the immense heartaches. I have no desire to change anything.
But this doesn’t sound like a date.
It sounds like he’s trying to pay me back for my hospitality, which I don’t expect.
My eyes shift side to side as another thought pops in my head—or is this some sort of test?
Like he is trying to see if I’d create a conflict of interest for his team? My palms start to sweat just thinking about it. I don’t think it’s wise for me to hang out with him, considering he holds Noah’s fate in the palm of his hands.
But he’s still smiling.
Like this matters to him for a reason he hasn’t said yet. I hate to ever say no to people when they need help. Maybe there’s a reason he needs to run over there? Against my better judgment, I hear myself slur, “Suuuure.”
He beams as he takes a few steps backward toward the exit. “Great. I won’t hold you up any longer, because it’s late, but I’ll text you tomorrow once I make sure the roads are good.”
He starts to spin on his heel to walk away, but I blurt out, “Want my number?”
He shakes his head, grinning. “I can grab it from Noah’s file.”
And just like that, I’m reminded again, even though I didn’t exactly forget that this isn’t a good idea.
What am I getting into?
Before I can ask for further clarification, he’s waving a casual good night over his shoulder.
I stand there watching him go, a little breathless and a little terrified of what I’ve agreed to.
Anxiety bubbles in my gut, and my gaze slams back to the kitchen counter, where I have a bag of popcorn hidden. I’m going to need a snack while I think about it.
When I arrive home, the house is silent except for the low murmur of a sports commentator echoing from down the hall. I slip off my boots, brush snow from my coat, and pad down the hall toward Noah’s room. His door is slightly open. I pause outside, watching him for a moment.
He’s reclined on his bed, scrolling on his phone. His expression is focused. In moments like these, he looks older than he is. He’s so serious and grown-up.Where did the time go?
I don’t even realize I’ve sighed until he glances up. “Hey, Mom, were the roads okay?”
“Yeah.” I take a step into his room. “They plowed right after you left.”
He holds up his phone. “No word about Granite Ice yet. He never said when he’d get back to us. I’m assuming it takes a while, but I’m getting nervous.”
I swallow. “I saw Bill after you left”
Noah raises an eyebrow. “Bill Baker?”
