Page 8 of The Heartbreaker Next Door

“All the time,” I said, with all the warmth of a bank statement.

We passed the next ten minutes in a kind of truce, with Felicity supervising and the kid providing an endless play-by-play of my movements. At one point, he asked me if I could fix the rain outside, too, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, I told him I’d see what I could do. The kid lit up, like I’d just promised him a trip to the moon.

It took about thirty minutes to patch everything up.

I told Felicity I’d be back with better supplies. She opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off with a look. She shut it again, and for a second the hard edges around her expression softened. She looked tired, not just from the day, but from something deeper. I recognized it from my own mom. Growing up my dad was out of town a lot and I saw the bone-deep fatigue that came from being the sole adult in the house, running a business and dealing with my three brothers and me.

Seeing her look like that triggered every protective instinct I had. I wanted to tell her to get some sleep, then unpack all of her boxes, and solve any problem she had. Although I was the go-to fix-it person, I’d never felt such a strong, primal urge to protect anyone.

As I was ignoring my primitive impulses, Maverick appeared in front of me, holding an armful of toy horses. “These are my horses.”

“Wow, you’ve got quite the herd.”

“This is Pancake, Batman, Chicken Nugget, Sprinkles, and Bob. He held each one up as he named them. How many horses do you have?”

“Eight.”

“What are their names?”

“Pringle, Sawdust, Lady Di, Penny Lane, Rooster, Harry Trotter, Mayo Neighs, and Houdini.”

His eyes widened to double their size. “Can I meet them?”

My eyes lifted to his mom for approval. Her tight grin and quick nod were a reluctant green light.

“If you are good for your mom, listen to her, do your chores, then yeah, I think we could make that happen.”

The kid shouted and ran around in circles before heading back down the hallway to what I assumed was his room.

As soon as he was out of earshot, I questioned, “Bob?”

“Short for SpongeBob,” she explained.

We weren’t alone long. The kid came running back down the hall. “Are you coming back?”

I nodded. The repairs I’d done were temporary.

He looked up at his mother and folded his hands in prayer as he begged, “Can he live with us?”

I almost smiled. Almost. Couldn’t help it. The kid was relentless.

Felicity choked on air, and for the first time since I’d met her, she seemed legitimately horrified. “That’s not…no…Mav, that’s not how it works.”

His brow furrowed. “Why not? Daddy used to live with us.”

Hmm. That was interesting. It was strange, but after checking to see if she was wearing a ring, I hadn’t even given “daddy” a second thought. I wondered what the story was there.

Felicity’s cheeks were as pink as her shirt as she quickly ushered me to the front door and opened it, clearly affected by what her son had said, but ignoring his last comment. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime,” I responded and meant it, which surprised me even more than it seemed to surprise her.

The door shut behind me as I stepped onto the porch. Outside, the rain had intensified, a world of gray and noise. As I walked to my truck, in soaking wet clothes, I tried to remember the last time anyone or any situation had caught me off guard, I couldn’t.

I was not a big talker, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have things to say. I hadn’t been at a loss for words in years. Felicity and the kid rendered me absolutely speechless in less than an hour.

3

HOUSTON, WE HAVE A COWBOY