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That short, throwaway phrase held so much meaning beyond you’re welcome. The way he held her, the unmistakable proof that this hug was having the same physical effect on him that it was her... It all said this moment really was his pleasure.
But it was hers too and that scared the life out of her. Even so, she stayed where she was.
Everything she’d told herself about getting over him was suddenly shown for the lies they had been.
Emma inhaled and his scent washed over her with all the sense memories it could invoke. Lazy Sunday mornings spent in bed, touching, laughing...talking. Nights of passion that left her replete and certain of her place in the world. Peaceful moments cuddling on the couch, watching his sports on the television, while she read a book.
For a moment she was back in that place, in love, certain she was cared for, the future nebulous but shiny.
“That’s a good hug.” Mickey’s voice jarred, bringing Emma back to the present with a thump. “She can hug you like that cuz you’re my dad. We’re family.”
Emma shoved against Kon, jumping back and nearly tripping over her own feet to put distance between them. Only then did she notice the pained look on his face. Her gaze skimmed his body and guilt assailed her. She quickly stepped between him and their son’s line of sight.
The look of gratitude Kon shot her did a number on her heart.
“Right, Mom?” Mickey asked, his little face showing tension she hadn’t noticed at first.
“Um...” Oh, man, what was she supposed to say?
I just hugged the stuffing out of your father because I forgot where I was, when I was and how much this man hurt me once upon a time.
Not. Going. To. Happen.
“Da, Mishka, I am your dad and we are a family.” Kon, in his typical arrogant, I-know-what’s-best fashion, had decided to answer.
The fact he stayed where he was, which showed he wasn’t able to get over his reaction to holding her that easily, gave her some satisfaction though.
“Mom?” Mickey wanted full-on assurance.
And Emma did what she was always did when her son needed anything it was in her power to provide. She gave it. “Yes, sweetheart, we are a family. I can hug your dad when I need to.”
“And he can hug you, right, Mom?”
If Emma had a potty mouth it would have gotten a workout right then, if only inside her own mind. Wrapped neatly and tied with a bow by her own son.
“I’m sure he’d rather hug you than me,” Emma said evasively.
“I don’t think so, Mom.” Mickey looked at Kon. “You like hugging Mom, huh? You looked really happy hugging her.”
“I enjoy hugging you both very much,” Kon said smoothly, making no effort to dissuade their son from his family-hugging agenda.
The rat.
“Because we’re a family.” Mickey’s happiness with that truth was as obvious as a bright yellow swath down the middle of a desert watercolor.
Bright and out of place it might be in the desert of her life, Emma couldn’t bring herself to dampen even the edges of her son’s joy.
“Yes,” Emma affirmed.
Mickey’s smile let Emma know she’d made the right choice, but his father’s smile worried her more than a little.
As the day wore on, it became clear that Mickey had appointed himself the role of matchmaker. Making sure that if they sat together, she and Kon were side by side. Talking about the future all bright and shiny as a family all together. Talking his dad up to Emma with a canny understanding that she was the one with reservations.
All of it so very clearly revealing Mickey’s plans of seeing his parents reunited.
If Emma thought Kon had put him up to his shenanigans, she would be furious. But she didn’t.
Mickey had been up-front and loud about his desire for a family that was more than just him and Emma since meeting his father. He adored Kon and thrived under his father’s affection and presence.
