.”
She and Jason both laughed.
She blinked and looked away. Scott’s questions had reminded her of the caution she’d given Jason about watching what he said in front of kids. She had been unforgivably offensive to him—again. Somehow, she couldn’t seem to stop crossing the line between asserting her rights and fighting a long-dead battle.
A slight breeze ruffled the loose edge of Jill’s blanket. She reached over to tuck the cover into the carriage just as Jason reached down. Their hands collided, his fingers warm against hers. She shoved her hand into her jacket pocket. He tucked the blanket in and checked that the baby was covered, too, as if he’d done it a hundred times before.
At the crosswalk, Scott reached up to take Jason’s hand, the way he had been taught to do with her whenever they crossed a street.
She wanted to pull her son’s hand away from Jason’s just as she had done with her own. But how could she protest without confusing Scott?
She was already confused enough herself. Almost, she wished Jason had never come back. Almost, she wished he had already gone home. He would go. That was inevitable. He had always been there for the fun times and in the short term. But when things got tough, he bolted.
Taking care of the kids while she was sick couldn’t be classified as a pleasure in anyone’s book, yet he’d done what he could for them. A walk to the sandwich shop wasn’t much of a hot time, either. Yet, here he was.
And almost, she wished she could trust him to be around to share all the simple, everyday events in her life.
* * *
T HEY HADN ’ T MADE it as far as SugarPie’s, after all. When they had turned the corner onto Canyon Road, Scott had spotted the Big Dipper. He set his sights on going there, and his mama had gone along with the change in plans.
Jason didn’t mind, either. A banana split wouldn’t have been his first choice of dessert in January, but it never dropped off his personal menu. He wondered how much of Layne’s agreement was driven by the boy’s eagerness to have ice cream and how much of it came from her need to sit down.
They were the only ones in the place, which allowed her to argue with him about who would pay for their order.
“You bought my groceries,” she said in a low voice when Shay had moved away to assemble his banana split. “Getting dessert is the least I can do.”
“You never pay when I’m with you at the Big Dipper,” he said flatly.
Her face froze. She blinked once, then walked away to plop herself down at a nearby table.
They had left the carriage parked outside the shop. She set the baby carrier on the far edge of the table near the wall and took off the blanket. Scott settled down in a chair beside them with his ice cream cone.
The minute Jason joined them, Layne leaned forward and said quietly, “That wasn’t necessary.”
“Really? With the way Shay stood behind the counter giving me the evil eye?”
She shot a quick look toward the cash register, but he knew the other woman had disappeared through the doorway behind it into the back room.
“She didn’t give you the evil eye.”
“Close enough to it, and I wasn’t about to stand down.” He dug into his banana split and held up a mouthful of vanilla ice cream. “You sure you don’t want any? I can always get another spoon.”
“No, thanks.”
“Too tame for you, huh? You always went for the fancy ones, the chocolate-marshmallow swirl or the pistachio-walnut-mint.”
“I’m surprised you remembered.” She didn’t meet his eyes.
“Are you kidding? Those were premium flavors. I had to pay extra for ’em.”
That got her looking at him. “Don’t even try to make me feel guilty about that. Your banana splits and triple-dip sundaes cost three times as much as my cones.”
He laughed and spooned up a mound of chocolate ice cream covered with whipped cream. “We spent plenty of time here in our dating days, didn’t we?”
“It was everybody’s
She and Jason both laughed.
She blinked and looked away. Scott’s questions had reminded her of the caution she’d given Jason about watching what he said in front of kids. She had been unforgivably offensive to him—again. Somehow, she couldn’t seem to stop crossing the line between asserting her rights and fighting a long-dead battle.
A slight breeze ruffled the loose edge of Jill’s blanket. She reached over to tuck the cover into the carriage just as Jason reached down. Their hands collided, his fingers warm against hers. She shoved her hand into her jacket pocket. He tucked the blanket in and checked that the baby was covered, too, as if he’d done it a hundred times before.
At the crosswalk, Scott reached up to take Jason’s hand, the way he had been taught to do with her whenever they crossed a street.
She wanted to pull her son’s hand away from Jason’s just as she had done with her own. But how could she protest without confusing Scott?
She was already confused enough herself. Almost, she wished Jason had never come back. Almost, she wished he had already gone home. He would go. That was inevitable. He had always been there for the fun times and in the short term. But when things got tough, he bolted.
Taking care of the kids while she was sick couldn’t be classified as a pleasure in anyone’s book, yet he’d done what he could for them. A walk to the sandwich shop wasn’t much of a hot time, either. Yet, here he was.
And almost, she wished she could trust him to be around to share all the simple, everyday events in her life.
* * *
T HEY HADN ’ T MADE it as far as SugarPie’s, after all. When they had turned the corner onto Canyon Road, Scott had spotted the Big Dipper. He set his sights on going there, and his mama had gone along with the change in plans.
Jason didn’t mind, either. A banana split wouldn’t have been his first choice of dessert in January, but it never dropped off his personal menu. He wondered how much of Layne’s agreement was driven by the boy’s eagerness to have ice cream and how much of it came from her need to sit down.
They were the only ones in the place, which allowed her to argue with him about who would pay for their order.
“You bought my groceries,” she said in a low voice when Shay had moved away to assemble his banana split. “Getting dessert is the least I can do.”
“You never pay when I’m with you at the Big Dipper,” he said flatly.
Her face froze. She blinked once, then walked away to plop herself down at a nearby table.
They had left the carriage parked outside the shop. She set the baby carrier on the far edge of the table near the wall and took off the blanket. Scott settled down in a chair beside them with his ice cream cone.
The minute Jason joined them, Layne leaned forward and said quietly, “That wasn’t necessary.”
“Really? With the way Shay stood behind the counter giving me the evil eye?”
She shot a quick look toward the cash register, but he knew the other woman had disappeared through the doorway behind it into the back room.
“She didn’t give you the evil eye.”
“Close enough to it, and I wasn’t about to stand down.” He dug into his banana split and held up a mouthful of vanilla ice cream. “You sure you don’t want any? I can always get another spoon.”
“No, thanks.”
“Too tame for you, huh? You always went for the fancy ones, the chocolate-marshmallow swirl or the pistachio-walnut-mint.”
“I’m surprised you remembered.” She didn’t meet his eyes.
“Are you kidding? Those were premium flavors. I had to pay extra for ’em.”
That got her looking at him. “Don’t even try to make me feel guilty about that. Your banana splits and triple-dip sundaes cost three times as much as my cones.”
He laughed and spooned up a mound of chocolate ice cream covered with whipped cream. “We spent plenty of time here in our dating days, didn’t we?”
“It was everybody’s
Similar Books
