him to suddenly feel sorry for the woman. He
liked this one, and knew it was only a matter of time, before she, like all the
others, was gone.
The woman came back wearing an emerald green flowing sundress that
touched her ankles. She smoothed it over her bottom and sat in the dining room
chair across from him. “I see you’ve already put out plates and forks, brought
the food in, and remembered the syrup. You’re very efficient for someone so
young.”
“You cooked. It was only right I set the table.”
The pancakes were amazing. Fluffy. Sweet. Just like his mother
used to make them. The bacon was a little too burnt for his taste, but he
didn’t complain licking the grease from his fingertips. He felt the woman
watching him and paused in between bites to ease her conscience. “You feel
guilty….don’t.”
One of her perfectly shaped brows shot up. “I shouldn’t feel
guilty about a young boy catching me in his father’s kitchen in my underwear?”
He absently took a sip of his milk. “No. I’ve seen worse… believe
me, you in your underwear wasn’t that bad.”
She laughed the sound bringing back memories of his mother. “You
are awful mature for your age,” she glanced up at him through long lashes,
“probably more mature than your father.”
He smiled. Oh yes, he liked this one. She was funny.
“Your disposition reminds me of my daughters though… so grown up
and tough, believing you don’t need anybody.”
“You have a daughter?” that explained a lot: her mothering nature,
her concern…. “How old is she?”
“A few years younger than you I believe,” she said taking a bite
of her pancake. Her brows pulled together with concern again. “I really didn’t
know you were here… I would have never stayed the night if I had.”
“I know. Where is your daughter?”
A blush came to her cheeks, “living with her grandparents for a
while. Things have been difficult for us lately. I needed some distance….no
that’s not entirely true.” She drew a breath. “I think I’ve been avoiding her.”
“Why would you avoid your own daughter?” He asked around a mouth
full of food. Maybe her answer would help him understand how a mother could
just abandon her child.
She stopped eating and idly skated a piece of pancake through the
syrup on her plate with her fork. “You don’t want to hear about my problems.”
“Yes I do.”
Their gazes met and held. The woman propped her elbows up on the
table, clasped her hands as if she were about to pray. “Okay. Her father died
and I really don’t know what to say about that. They were very close. I see how
much she’s hurting but she refuses to let me help her. I’m not even sure I know
how…”
“So you gave up?”
“No! Of course not! I’m… I’m taking a break. Jim had been sick for
a while, and now there’s all this tension between Megan and me. It’s all just
so…I don’t know… overwhelming”
“Does your daughter know you’re coming back?”
“Yes,” her brow creased with uncertainty, “Surely she doesn’t
think I’ve abandoned her?”
A stinging flick to the ear woke Drew. He half-opened his
heavy-lidded eyes to see his father frowning down at him. “Son, from where I’m
standing it doesn’t look like you’re taking this bet too seriously.”
“What time is it?” Drew asked as he yawned and stretched coming
out of the fog. Shit. His whole body tensed as he remembered he was sleeping on
the couch. He looked pathetic—like a put out dog, something his father would
never be able to relate to. He focused more intently on his father’s
expression, which was plagued with disappointment and shock…maybe even a little
humor.
“What happened? Did she kick you out of your own bed?” he shook
his head, tsking.
No rampage? No scolding? No lectures on how a real man goes
about seducing a woman? “What are you up to?
liked this one, and knew it was only a matter of time, before she, like all the
others, was gone.
The woman came back wearing an emerald green flowing sundress that
touched her ankles. She smoothed it over her bottom and sat in the dining room
chair across from him. “I see you’ve already put out plates and forks, brought
the food in, and remembered the syrup. You’re very efficient for someone so
young.”
“You cooked. It was only right I set the table.”
The pancakes were amazing. Fluffy. Sweet. Just like his mother
used to make them. The bacon was a little too burnt for his taste, but he
didn’t complain licking the grease from his fingertips. He felt the woman
watching him and paused in between bites to ease her conscience. “You feel
guilty….don’t.”
One of her perfectly shaped brows shot up. “I shouldn’t feel
guilty about a young boy catching me in his father’s kitchen in my underwear?”
He absently took a sip of his milk. “No. I’ve seen worse… believe
me, you in your underwear wasn’t that bad.”
She laughed the sound bringing back memories of his mother. “You
are awful mature for your age,” she glanced up at him through long lashes,
“probably more mature than your father.”
He smiled. Oh yes, he liked this one. She was funny.
“Your disposition reminds me of my daughters though… so grown up
and tough, believing you don’t need anybody.”
“You have a daughter?” that explained a lot: her mothering nature,
her concern…. “How old is she?”
“A few years younger than you I believe,” she said taking a bite
of her pancake. Her brows pulled together with concern again. “I really didn’t
know you were here… I would have never stayed the night if I had.”
“I know. Where is your daughter?”
A blush came to her cheeks, “living with her grandparents for a
while. Things have been difficult for us lately. I needed some distance….no
that’s not entirely true.” She drew a breath. “I think I’ve been avoiding her.”
“Why would you avoid your own daughter?” He asked around a mouth
full of food. Maybe her answer would help him understand how a mother could
just abandon her child.
She stopped eating and idly skated a piece of pancake through the
syrup on her plate with her fork. “You don’t want to hear about my problems.”
“Yes I do.”
Their gazes met and held. The woman propped her elbows up on the
table, clasped her hands as if she were about to pray. “Okay. Her father died
and I really don’t know what to say about that. They were very close. I see how
much she’s hurting but she refuses to let me help her. I’m not even sure I know
how…”
“So you gave up?”
“No! Of course not! I’m… I’m taking a break. Jim had been sick for
a while, and now there’s all this tension between Megan and me. It’s all just
so…I don’t know… overwhelming”
“Does your daughter know you’re coming back?”
“Yes,” her brow creased with uncertainty, “Surely she doesn’t
think I’ve abandoned her?”
A stinging flick to the ear woke Drew. He half-opened his
heavy-lidded eyes to see his father frowning down at him. “Son, from where I’m
standing it doesn’t look like you’re taking this bet too seriously.”
“What time is it?” Drew asked as he yawned and stretched coming
out of the fog. Shit. His whole body tensed as he remembered he was sleeping on
the couch. He looked pathetic—like a put out dog, something his father would
never be able to relate to. He focused more intently on his father’s
expression, which was plagued with disappointment and shock…maybe even a little
humor.
“What happened? Did she kick you out of your own bed?” he shook
his head, tsking.
No rampage? No scolding? No lectures on how a real man goes
about seducing a woman? “What are you up to?
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