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…and that? That was the boy’s bare ass in the window.
They were off to a wonderful start.
Chapter Eight
Over the top of Brianna’s menu, Thomas looked much too calm. Much too confident. He should be running for the hills. He should be the nervous one, yet here she was sweating into her boots and scrunching her toes in her damp socks. Dating again, even so many years after Michael’s death, was like trying to remember a foreign language she hadn’t used in decades. Open her mouth, and nothing but gibberish would spill out.
“So exactly how long has it been since your husband passed?” Thomas asked, voice neutral. “If you don’t mind talking about it, that is.”
“I don’t mind.” She cleared her throat. A fist of pain tightened over her heart. “It was three and a half years ago. He had cancer. It wasn’t an easy passing.”
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. The contact was oddly intimate. She swallowed hard and forced herself to concentrate on the here, the now, and the surf and turf platter on the restaurant’s menu.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his gaze unwavering.
“Don’t be. It may have been difficult, but…” The words stuck in her throat. “Once we found out, it was a matter of months. As if, once he knew, he didn’t want to leave us hanging. Like he wanted it to be over.”
“I’ve seen that happen before.”
“It hit Zach the hardest. Maybe because he’s the oldest. Katelyn handled it well enough, but she’s young still. Cody was only six, so he barely remembers his father.”
Thomas’s grasp tightened. “Is Zach acting out?”
Brianna tilted her head. Was he actually interested in her children? Her chest ached. No. He couldn’t care about her. Not after two quick flings and this impromptu date. He was being polite. “Not really,” she said. “He gets fabulous grades. Plays soccer. Star forward.”
“Soccer, hmm?” His brows rose.
“Don’t tell me. You played forward, too?”
“All four years in high school. I can still balance a ball on my head with my eyes closed and a few beers in me.”
“So can a seal.”
“Ork ork.” He chuckled. “Think he’d mind kicking the ball around the yard with a has-been?”
Her stomach sank, heavy and cold. What would Michael think, another man taking his place and coaching his son? Why was she even thinking about this when Thomas was likely putting on a brave face and wouldn’t even stick around long enough to meet Zach? The initial spark of excitement left her flushed with guilt.
She shouldn’t be thinking about this.
She’d been doing fine without anyone else’s help, but being a single parent was exhausting. There was no good cop, bad cop. She had to be the bad cop, then kiss it better. She had to be mother and father, and there were some things she just couldn’t teach her son. Like how to shave his first stubble—though she’d have tried if Zach had wanted her to. She would have lathered up her face right alongside him if he asked.
Anything for her kids.
She looked away from Thomas. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to.” His thumb stroked along her knuckles. “I would probably have fun.”
She swallowed hard. “I—then—we can think about it. I don’t want to introduce you too soon. You could be gone in a week for all I know.”
He drummed the fingers of his free hand on the table and watched the restaurant—a quiet bustle of activity and energy as waiters and waitresses floated from table to table. “I’m here for at least two more weeks.”
“That’s not very long. Will you go back to California then?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
She shook her head. “So we’re doomed from the start?”
“I know we don’t have long, but I’d hope it’s long enough for us to figure out if there’s something worth pursuing. If there is something here, then we can figure out what to do when the time comes. We could work something out.”
