Page 96 of His Wounded Heart

“Ow.” That hurt. I pout again.

Simon laughs, then licks over my bottom lip where he gave me a tiny love bite. “What were you trying to do?” he asks.

“You looming over me while I’m sitting in this chair is not conducive to good kissing.”

“I know. That’s the point. When your daughter comes out of her bedroom because her highly honed daughter senses tell her that her Mama is up to no good, I want us to be able to easily break apart.”

“I don’t like that.” Damn, now I’m whining. Crying, babbling, and whining. This is so not a winning combination.

“Hey, what has you frowning?”

“Nothing.”

“Wrong answer,” he says as he taps the end of my nose. “Something has you upset, now tell me.”

“I am not showing you my best side.”

“Like I have?” he asks. “I think I had a meltdown at a restaurant as I told you about my sister, and you had to handle me like you handled Arthur. Does that ring a bell?”

I frown. “No, that doesn’t ring a bell in the slightest. You talked about your sister and I listened. I might have asked a question. But you didn’t have a meltdown.”

“I did, Trenda,” he insists.

My hands are still in his hair, and now I move them, kneading the back of his tight neck. I want to say the next words just right. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but I need to be his mirror, too. “Simon, Honey, you just showed some emotion. Some of the uncomfortable ones. You were sad and angry. I promise, it wasn’t over the top. But did it feel like that?” I ask quietly.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“Take it from someone who has felt very comfortable having meltdowns in front of you. I’m talking Chernobyl-sized meltdowns. You are just sharing a little bit of your hurt, and I think it is a good thing.”

“Mama, can I have a drink of water?”

Simon stands up as he holds back his laughter. I get out of my chair and meet my daughter at the end of the hall.

“Sure you can, Sweet Pea. Come on in the kitchen, and I’ll get you one.”

Even with tired eyes, she doesn’t miss a trick. “Is that a chocolate ice cream spill?”

This time Simon laughs out loud.

Bella turns around. “Oh, hi, Mr. Simon. What are you doing here?”

“I was helping your Mama with some work.”

“I thought you were in the Navy. You build websites?”

“I do a lot of things. Your Mama needed my expertise on some other developments.”

I watch her forehead scrunch, then smooth out. I hand her a half full glass of water. “Here you go, Love.”

She gulps it all down. She had been thirsty. “I really needed that. Thank you, Mama.” She turns to Simon. “Good luck with the ’velopments. You should come over more often. I think Mama needs lots of help.”

I’m afraid to glance over at him, but I do anyway. He looks about ready to bust a gut, but he restrains from laughing. I roll my eyes.

“Let’s get you tucked in.” I put my hand on the back of Bella’s head and we walk back to her bedroom and I tuck her in for a second time.

“Mr. Simon is really nice. And he knows about dogs. And he knows Uncle Drake. And he’s really strong, I saw him lifting things at the rec center. And he’s—”

“Enough, Bella. Say goodnight, Sweetheart.”