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He went silent. They both knew how Romy felt because he was so open about it with Cason. No one visited Cason’s bedside as often as Romy, or took his grumbling bad attitude with as much grace.
“Well, I’m never going to be anyone’s hero. That’s for sure.”
Solette didn’t know why that disappointed her. “We weren’t talking about you being a hero. Just living.”
“You’re that type.”
She blinked. “A hero?”
“No, the type of woman who needs a knight.”
She scoffed. “I assure you, I’m not. I’m a hardworking single mother, and I haven’t looked to anyone to take care of me. I’m not looking for a meal ticket.”
He grinned, and the sun came out. “Ah, now we’re talking about Bambi. You are jealous.”
She surged to her feet. “We should go, Cason.”
“A little while longer.”
When she turned to tell him a thing or two, she paused because he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.
“I’m getting that surgery,” he said. “I’m going to walk without help. I’ll be rich, and maybe good-looking with rough edges. I’ll have a lot going for me, but I can’t say I’ll be a better man. You get that, Solette?”
“Yes, I hear you.”
For some reason, it was important to him that she have no illusions about him. She was convinced he knew how much she wanted him, but he kept her at a distance after he’d teased her and bedded her. Maybe he wasn’t so different than he was before the accident after all. This was what rich men did. A woman in her position needed to think about her own situation and how to keep it moving.
“I have to go,” she said.
He started to argue but changed his mind and nodded. Solette signaled his bodyguard, a hulking man, who offered his arm. Cason used him to haul himself to his feet and made slow progress back to the car. After Solette dropped him at home, she made sure not to notice if Bambi was still in residence and jumped into her car to get out of there. Her conversation with Cason that afternoon made her more determined than ever to stomp out the feelings she held for him. Like Cason said, he wasn’t her hero. He wasn’t anyone’s hero.
Chapter 10
“You kept me waiting, Solette,” Joe Sr. griped. “You know I don’t like that.”
Solette squirmed on the other side of the table. She glanced at her son, and Joe Sr. looked too. He forced a smile and visibly tried to relax.
“Never mind. You look good though. I guess you were worth the wait.”
Being so used to bandying comments back and forth with Cason, her first thought was to say, “You guess?” She thought better of it and offered a soft thanks instead.
Joe Sr. waved his arms with dramatic flare, encompassing the menu. “Get whatever you want. My treat. You too, Joseph. But not steak. That’s a little expensive.”
Joseph frowned. “I was going to get the thickest one they got with blood.”
“Shut up, boy. That’s gross!”
“Joe, don’t tell him to shut up. He’s fine.”
Her son’s father looked at her as if she’d just cursed at him, but once again he reined in his emotions. She sat in stunned silence when he apologized to their son and began teasing him about being too small to handle a steak like a man.
While they joked, Solette took in Joe Sr. At one point, he had permed his hair and wore it slick and straight against his head, but now he wore it natural. Most of his head was covered in tight coils, but the front he had grown out so it stuck straight up in the air. A small silver ring hung from one ear, and the scent of cologne wafted across the table. Joe Sr. always carried himself as if he were a gift to the eyes of anyone looking at him.
The two Joes settled down and ordered. Solette chose grilled chicken breast topped with mango glaze and pico de gallo. She indulged in a creamy mac and cheese but added mixed veggies to psych herself into thinking she was keeping it mostly healthy.
Halfway through the meal, Joe Sr. set his fork down and
picked up his glass of cola. He didn’t drink much alcohol funny enough, so he couldn’t blame his past anger issues on booze. “Solette, let’s make a toast,” he said.
