Carter looks at Maya, who's practically vibrating with excitement. Then at me. "What do you think?"
"I think Claire is meddling," I say pointedly.
"I think Claire is being helpful," Claire counters. "There's a difference."
Carter's lips twitch, almost a smile. "If Maya wants to go, it's fine. But you stay where I can see you, understand? And you listen to Ms. Claire."
"I will! I promise!" Maya is already sliding out of her chair, taking Biscuit's leash from me. "Come on, Biscuit! We're going to the park!"
Claire grabs Maya's hand, gently, like she's done this a thousand times. "We'll be back in twenty minutes. Thirty max. You two take your time."
And just like that, they're gone. Maya skipping between Claire and Biscuit, heading toward the small park visible from our table. I watch them go, watch Carter watch them, his whole body tense until he confirms they're staying in sight.
"Your friend is subtle," he says dryly.
"As a brick through a window." I cover my face with my hands. "I'm so sorry. She means well, but she has absolutely no boundaries."
"It's fine." He's still watching Maya, making sure she's safe. "She seems good with kids."
"She is. She really is a pediatric nurse, and she's amazing at her job. Also amazing at interfering in my life when she thinks I need it."
"And she thinks you need it?" Carter looks back at me, "Me, I mean. She thinks you need me?"
My face is burning. "She thinks I need to give people a chance. She thinks I've been hiding since my breakup. She thinks..." I trail off, not sure how honest to be.
"She thinks what?"
"She thinks you're good for me," I shyly admit. "That you make me smile. That I came looking for you yesterday because I wanted to, not just because I felt obligated to say thank you."
Carter leans back in his chair, "And what do you think?"
"I think..." I take a breath, force myself to be brave. "I think I haven't smiled this much in months. I think breakfast with you and Maya has been the best morning I've had in a long time. I think I'm terrified because you're everything I should probably run away from, dangerous and complicated and probably leaving town in a few days, but I can't make myself want to run."
The words are too honest, too raw. I should take them back, laugh it off, make a joke about Claire's meddling.
But I don't.
Carter is quiet for a long moment. Then: "I'm not leaving."
"What?"
"In a few days. I'm not leaving." He sets down his coffee mug, and his hands, those scarred, dangerous hands, are completelysteady. "I called my brother this morning. Told him I think I found a place to stay. He asked if it was because of a woman."
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
"I told him maybe," Carter continues. "But mostly it's for Maya. She needs this. Needs school and friends and a place to call home." He pauses. "But yeah, it's partly because of you, too."
I can't breathe. Can't think. This man who I met two days ago is telling me he's staying. Partly because of me.
"I don't do this," he says, and there's something almost vulnerable in his voice. "Don't trust easy. Don't let people in. Spent the last six months keeping Maya and me separate from everyone because it felt safer that way." He looks toward the park, where Maya is on the swings and Claire is pushing her, Biscuit sitting nearby watching. "But you make me want to try. Want to believe that maybe not everyone is full of shit. That maybe some people actually are who they seem to be."
"I am," I tell him, my voice shaking slightly. "Who I seem to be, I mean. A teacher with a dog and a house full of memories and approximately zero interesting qualities beyond that."
"You're wrong about that last part," Carter says quietly. "But we can argue about it later."
Later. Like there's going to be a later. Like this isn't just one breakfast and then goodbye.
"Okay," I manage. "Later."
