Page 91 of Steel

“Really? You’re serious?”

“Cross my heart. You can take them out of the case if you want.”

He jumped up and down on the couch, but as he opened the box, he did so lovingly. I don’t think I had the right words to express how I’d felt when hearing this special kid was considered a scandal to his father. I’d felt a level of rage that I wasn’t used to.

Most kids his age weren’t reverent about any toys, but he gingerly picked one up. I crowded his space, pulling out another. “See this one? This was the very first one I got when I was a little younger than you. I had it in my stocking at Christmas. It had been my dad’s. The others he lost in a fire.”

There was something so special about the way his eyes lit up as he held out his hand. “It’s beautiful.”

The old Ford was beaten to death but one of my favorites. “I think so too. See that Camaro? That’s the closest one I have to the beauty you showed me in your collection. You need to cherish that one. Okay?”

He nodded, but at the same time, his face scrunched up.

“You don’t like them?” I was shocked, unsure how to react.

Then the kid did something that would shock me for a long time. He reached into his pocket and when he pulled out his hand, inside was the red Camaro I’d admired from before. “I want you to have this.”

I had no idea what to say. The kid was wildly excited. The adult in me realized what a big deal this was. “That’s yours and very special to you.”

“That’s why I want you to have it.” He held out his arm, his big eyes searching mine. I wasn’t used to being around children, the lack of experience making the moment as awkward as everything else had been with both of them. But I realized the intense importance of the offer made.

And what would happen if I didn’t accept. “I’d be honored, Damon. Thank you.”

Maybe it was relief I noticed in his eyes, brief but brilliant enough I sensed he had few friends and desperately needed a male figure in his life.

And I hated his father that much more.

“Mom. Look. Pretty cool. Huh?” He held up the car I’d handed him, his eyes still twinkling.

“That’s amazing,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

“Can I play with them?”

“Sure. For a little while.”

He took the box with him, dragging it off the couch to the floor. “Do you think Zorro is okay?”

Oh, shit. Zorro. After the terrible night, I couldn’t keep the news about the dog from her. “You didn’t leave him in the house all alone. Did you?”

“No, silly. I bought a cage, but he wasn’t happy. Maybe we should head home.”

“Nonsense. Why don’t I pop over and get him. I’ll bring him back. I think Damon could use a little time playing. Don’t you?” In truth, I wanted a little more time with her to clear the air and to chat about the dog. I might as well destroy her evening more. What choice did I have?

“Okay, I mean if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Just give me your keys.”

When she did and our fingers touched, she lifted her head as if in shock. The chemistry we shared was undeniable.

Although at this point, I wasn’t certain we should continue exploring our connection. According to the look on her face, lines had been crossed that couldn’t be repaired.

“I’ll be right back. You’ll find some wine and whiskey in the cabinet next to the refrigerator, a few beers inside. Even some soft drinks for the little man.”

“I think he’s had enough caffeine for the night.” She folded her hand, pulling her arm away as if scalded.

“Understood. Make yourself at home.”

I wasn’t surprised in the least that she was leery of me. Maybe that’s why when she reached out, wrapping her fingers aroundmy arm, a dull ache formed in my chest. “That was very sweet of you.” She kept her voice low so Damon wouldn’t hear her.