I study him as he doesn’t even complain when Amelia insists he play ‘just one more.’
“Carter, do you believe in God?”
He puts down his crayon and looks at me like he’s afraid of how I might react to his answer. He nods a few times thensays, “While I’m not a card-carrying member of any one religion, yeah, I do.”
“Why?”
His eyes narrow. “Why do I believe in God?”
“Yeah.”
He thinks on it, gazing out the window. He finally turns back, and says, “It’s kind of hard not to when you look at snowflakes.”
I laugh at his perfect answer. But then… then he gives me an even better one.
“Seriously though, if you met my kid, you’d know exactly why I believe in God.”
Wow.
I’ve never been one to experience love at first sight. I’ve never been a believer in it. I cringe at movies or shows that have two people being soulmates or whatever. Because surely there is no such thing. But then, why is my heart already breaking at the knowledge that after this temporary speed bump, I’ll never see Carter Cruz again?
Chapter Five
Carter
Looking at Amelia after we play our umpteenth tic-tac-toe game, I chuckle and wonder if she actually ate any ketchup, or if it all ended up on her face. I reach over her, pull a few paper napkins from the dispenser, dip them in my water glass, and get to work wiping her mouth, chin, and cheeks.
Wadding up the dirty napkins, I catch Kenna staring.
“What?” I ask, placing the napkins on the edge of the table. “Not my first rodeo, you know.”
“You seem like you’re a good dad.”
“I like to think I am.”
“Has it always been just you?”
“Not always, but for the last fourteen years. Christian’s mom, Denise, bailed when he was diagnosed with cerebral palsy.”
Her mouth opens and she huffs, brows pinched, looking completely appalled.
I snort. “Yeah, times that by about a million, and that’s how I felt.”
“There are some pretty terrible people in this world.”
Is she still talking about Denise, I wonder, or someone else?
“Were you married to her?”
I’ve never been all that keen on talking about my ex-girlfriend, especially when my son is around, but Kenna asking me about her opens up the door for me to learn more about the attractive, mysterious woman sitting across from me. Suffice it to say, in this moment, I’m willing to discuss just about anything.
“No. How about you? Ever been married?”
Her nod is curt and stilted, like she doesn’t want to admit to it. She glances out the window as she answers. “Briefly, but not to her father.”
Okay then, maybe I won’t be learning so much about her. It’s obvious this is not a topic she wishes to discuss. But why did she bring it up then? Could it be she’s as interested in my past as I seem to be in hers? I mean, neither of us is in any hurry to leave, even though our dishes were cleared some time ago.
Or am I misreading the situation completely? I like being here because I’m thoroughly enjoying her company. She, on the other hand, may not want to leave because she literally has no place to go.
