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Whatever it took, I would have it.

16

WINTER

“Mama? Can I have one?” Of course, any three-year-old would be fascinated by the sight of an over-the-top milkshake being walked past our table. It was in an absolutely huge glass, the inside drizzled with what looked like fudge and peanut butter, topped with a huge cap of whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, and a peanut butter cup perched on top.

“I don’t know, buddy,” I murmured, sort of wanting one for myself, but old habits die hard. I might not have danced professionally anymore, but dancing was in my bones. There was no giving it up, which meant staying in shape.

I opened my mouth, prepared to disappoint my son by saying no to something much too big, but Jackson was too fast for me.

“How about this?” he suggested, leaning in from his side of the table. “I’ll order a milkshake, and we’ll share it. I’ll ask for two cups so I can pour some into yours and some into mine.”

Had there ever been anything purer than my baby’s smile?

“Okay!”

The two of them exchanged a grin that nearly killed me. That was how it felt, like I was going to die from happiness I had never imagined. All it took was an afternoon spent together to make me wonder if there might be a future here.

The idea was as seductive as it was terrifying. I had done so much on my own for so long, not that I thought Liam had suffered, per se. He had adjusted well enough to being here in the States, even if it had taken a little time. But now he was happy, thriving, and had a new best friend in the form of the man sitting across from us in a vinyl booth in the sort of restaurant I would never have imagined someone like Jackson Bennett ever visiting for any reason.

But then, it seemed there was a side of him I had forgotten about. I’d seen it before, in little flashes—laughing together at movies watched in his apartment, taking joy rides through the desert late at night, lying on the roof of his car to gaze up at the stars and talk about the things we saw ourselves doing in the future. That had been a big one. He was lighthearted then, full of hope, not afraid to let his guard down.

The same was true now as he tried to teach Liam how to blow a straw wrapper across the table. “See, you have to work it down the straw a little bit so some of it is hanging off, but you can’t rip it,” he explained carefully while Liam watched his every move.

“Maybe he doesn’t need to learn how to do this?” I suggested in a soft voice.

“These are basic life skills, Mom,” Jackson insisted, winking at me before returning to the lesson. “Here, I’ll show you.”

How could I resist the pure joy shining from Liam’s eyes as he watched the paper wrapper sail across the table and hit the padded booth at our backs? “Wow!” he gasped, looking at Jackson with hero worship shining on his face. It took so little.

And in those joy-filled eyes, in the look of utter wonder, I saw so many other things—Christmas mornings, birthdays—and sitting across from us, I saw a man who would have done anything to make his little boy laugh.

I saw what could have been the future.

I wanted it.

But did he?

He might have in the moment when things were new, fresh, and exciting. They had only known each other for a couple of weeks. It was easy for things to be happy and nice. We hadn’t gotten real yet—no tantrums, no illness, no drudgery. I could handle being disappointed by Jackson Bennett, but our son couldn’t. His needs had to come first.

“Chicken fingers!” Liam’s eyes bulged when the plate was presented along with a cup of fries. “Yes.” Between this and the long tour of the aquarium we’d taken earlier, he was pretty much having the best day of his life.

I caught Jackson wearing a funny sort of smile and lifted my brows. “I was trying to remember the last time I felt that enthusiastic over anything,” he admitted. I had to laugh because I could relate, having wondered the same thing so many times.

“Can we do this tomorrow?” Liam asked, carefully dipping a fry into a cup of ketchup.

“You’re still eating your lunch and already asking about the next time?” I clicked my tongue and shook my head, though I was only pretending to be disapproving.

Jackson took him seriously, wearing a thoughtful expression while picking at a tower of onion rings. “Now that the big show is running and everything is okay, maybe we can hang out a little more,” he suggested, glancing my way.

It was what he wanted.

It was what I wanted, too.

More than anything, but only if he meant it.

It was so seductive, this happiness. I wanted to believe it would go on and on. It wasn’t like Jackson had ever given me a reason to think he was irresponsible or anything.