Page 37 of Second Chance

“And him?” Jax nods his head at Denton, ignoring his presence by speaking in the third person. “Why’s he grinding up against you?”

“Easy there, son,” Denton warns, gritting his teeth while he speaks to my adult child acting like a toddler.

“I’m not your son,” Jax snaps, and I’m appalled at the sharpness in his voice. “I know who you are. You were a terrible friend to my father.” At this point, I don’t know who my son is. His behavior is beyond me.

“Jax, that’s enough. You aren’t being fair.”

“Fuck fair,” Jax spats. Now, I’m growing angry.

“That’s enough. Why don’t you take Hollilyn home?” I suggest, knowing I’m not about to reprimand my son in front of someone he actually doesn’t know. However, I’ll be ripping into him later. Hollilyn turns to me, distress in her eyes as she mouths, I’m sorry.

I don’t really know what she’s sorry about. She didn’t do anything. In fact, she’s been like a few other females in my life—Cora and Alyce—encouraging me to go for it, whatever it may be. I’m grateful for her five minutes of dancing because, truthfully, it’s been enlightening and fulfilling.

“And what about him?” Jax asks, like a petulant child, and in my typical motherly response, I reply, “You worry about you. Take Hollilyn home.”

Without another glance at me, or a hug goodbye, my son storms out of the kitchen, tugging his pregnant girlfriend behind him.

I take a deep breath, letting out my embarrassment at my son’s behavior.

“I’m so sorry about that,” I say, lowering my head and rubbing at my forehead as I speak. “I don’t know where any of that came from.”

Denton steps forward, his body in my space and I’m forced to look up at him when his fingers press under my chin.

“He’s just looking out for his mama. But you didn’t do anything wrong, Mati.”

“I know, but…” I don’t know why I’m offering a but, but I suddenly feel guilty, and I don’t even know what I feel guilty for. I take another deep breath and then slowly exhale, hoping to switch subjects. “What are you doing here?”

“Would you be mad if I said I just wanted a little time with you?”

Not mad. Not mad at all. My heart races for a new reason. Maybe it’s the flutters in my belly. Maybe it’s the memories in my head. My response takes too long, so I ask another question.

“How did you get in here?”

“The front door was unlocked. Probably not the safest idea.” Hollilyn must have left it open when she entered but then again, I’m not always the best at keeping things locked up during the day. At night, if I could hermetically seal the house, I would.

Denton’s still holding up my chin, and my eyes drift to his lips. As if he knows I’m looking at them, his tongue sneaks out, just the tip, and swipes across the bottom layer. A part of me moistens. My lower region pulses to the rhythm of the no-longer-beating music, and a vision of Denton and me dancing some twenty-seven years ago flashes before me.

Prom night. Slow dance. Too close.

My chest rises as if I’m racing and I’m certain he can feel my heartbeat against the weight of his forearm near my breast. I’m near heart attack proportion. I didn’t realize I reached out for his waist or my fingers curled into his belt loop. I might have tugged him toward me.

“It’s been a long few days with my mother, Mati. Let’s go for a ride.” His voice lowers, and like the call of a siren to a sailor, I’m on board for his request. I swallow down his song. The epiphany I had moments ago about living life sings back to me, and I realize living life needs a little spark to ignite it. And Denton Chance might be the one to light my fire—cliché like an old-time rock song—but appropriate for the man before me.

“Okay.” I swallow back the word and his fingers skate from under my chin to my throat, cupping around it again. I like this move, and a ripple projects down my center to my essence. He stares down at me a moment and then his fingers release me. His hand lowers to mine, and without another word, he leads me out to his car.