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Maggie swore under her breath and followed him inside. She closed the door and took a second to calm her nerves. Breathe. She could do this.
Michael assaulted Cain immediately, and the two of them were already in the kitchen. Pots and pans banged and the fridge door slammed shut. Her son babbled excitedly, and Maggie slid onto the sofa, a bittersweet feeling heavy in her throat.
She couldn’t lie. It bothered her that Michael seemed so keen on having Cain around. Was he that starved for a male figure in his life? That thought alone made her feel awful, but she pushed it aside. Her head hurt too much to think about that kind of stuff.
Her bungalow was open concept, so she had a clear view of the kitchen area. Michael balanced on a step stool, and still his head barely reached Cain’s shoulders. His curls bobbed as he listened to Cain explain his fabulous omelet recipe, and his giggles filled the silence.
“Mom, these are gonna be awesome!” He looked back and grinned before grabbing a bowl off the counter to hand to Cain.
Her heart constricted as she watched her son. He looked so small, so incredibly vulnerable, next to Cain. As always, she was humbled at the miracle that he was. Her little man.
Cain turned around. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink?”
“No,” she whispered.
His eyes lingered a little too long, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth.
Maggie leaned back and closed her eyes.
Cain Black was all kinds of wrong for so many reasons. She didn’t know what kind of game he was playing, but she knew she couldn’t play along. Not that she was interested, and even if she was, he was way out of her league.
It wouldn’t end well.
And Maggie didn’t know if she could survive another loss.
Chapter 6
“Where the hell have you been?”
Cain closed the door behind him and stared across the foyer at his mother. The lighting was muted, small beams filtering in from outside through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The evening shadows on her face made her appear almost ethereal. She was dressed in an old pair of denim shorts and a plain white T-shirt, with her long blond hair tied back in a ponytail.
She stepped forward, and as always, his heart softened at the sight of her. The woman was free of makeup and she looked much younger than her fifty-two years. He smiled. How many times had he warned his bass player, Dax, that his mother was off-limits?
At the moment, however, anger marred her classic features into a dark frown. “I’ve been calling your cell for the last three hours.”
Shit. He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off.
“I realize you’re a grown man and not used to answering to anyone, but you could at least let me know where you are and when you’ll be home.” Lauren’s hands were on her hips, and her arched brow still managed to make him uncomfortable. “When you’re with Mackenzie and Jake, things tend to go off, and I just…”
She shrugged. “I’d like a little warning is all.”
“Sorry, I turned my phone off at the hospital—”
“Hospital?” Her anger vanished as she crossed the room. “Are you all right?”
Cain nodded. “I’m fine. Maggie tripped over my crap downstairs, and her head met the wrong end of the desk. She’s okay.”
“What about Michael?”
“They’re both good. I took them home.”
The look in Lauren’s eyes changed. It was subtle, but he could see the wheels turning behind them, spinning until they narrowed thoughtfully. He shifted beneath her direct stare.
“When did this happen?”
He shrugged and walked past her toward the kitchen. “Fourish…maybe?”
“Cain.”
