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“Trying to date as a single parent is hard enough, but it tends to raise eyebrows when people realize I’m thirty-one and have a fifteen-year-old daughter.”
“What the hell is wrong with that?”
She lifted a hand, letting it fall to the table. “I don’t know. I’ve given up on dating. It’s not like I have much time, as it is.”
“You didn’t mention what you do for work,” I commented. It was crazy Sasha hadn’t been snapped up by some man intelligent enough to realize she was not only smart and strong but also fucking beautiful and sexy as hell.
“I’m a paralegal, and I lucked out because I love my job. I had an internship at a smaller but very well-established law firm in Boston. The woman who I interned for offered me a job, and I’ve been there ever since. The pay is good, and I love her. I work my ass off, but that’s fine. I’ve never minded doing hard work.”
“It’s a pretty sweet deal having a good boss and doing a job you enjoy when it comes to work.”
“Exactly.”
At that moment, a couple passed by our table. The woman glanced our way and then did a double-take when she saw Sasha. Sasha glanced up, her eyes turning steely, and her lips pressing in a line.
After the couple moved out of earshot, I asked, “Who is that?” I vaguely recognized them, but I couldn’t quite place them.
“Friends of my father’s. She used to be his secretary. I was never a fan. Even though it’s old news that I got pregnant in high school, it’s strange to be back here. When I left, I felt like everybody thought I was a whore.”
“Fuck them all,” I said flatly. “That’s ridiculous. Not to mention, what did everybody think of the father?”
Sasha’s gaze hardened. “That he wasn’t responsible. It was Jonathon Smith, and his parents were horrified. It was my own mistake. He’s never had anything to do with her or paid one penny of child support. His sister is the only one I’ve had contact with in that family. She reached out after college. She’s not close to her parents, and she’s the one who took Quinn on the ski trip. She lives in Western Mass and stops by whenever she’s in Boston. Years later, after calling me a whore to my face when I was fifteen, Jonathon’s mother reached out and wanted to meet Quinn, but she didn’t want me to be there. I refused.”
“I don’t blame you,” I said firmly, that sense of protectiveness sharpening inside me. “She doesn’t need to meet people who treated you that way and weren’t there for you in any way.”
“I actually asked Quinn what she wanted,” Sasha said, grimacing slightly. “Because if it was something she wanted, I would’ve let her meet her. She didn’t. Maybe that’ll change, and I’ll have to figure out what to do. She’s old enough now that all I can do is try to support what she wants and hope no one hurts her.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, after Sasha and I had gone our separate ways, I returned to the house. I’d headed to a town nearby to buy a few more pots and pans for the kitchen. As I rolled to a stop in the circular driveway, I glanced over to see Sasha in the middle of shoveling the front porch and stairs.
Tall and rectangular, my family’s old colonial-style home was situated on a bluff looking out over the ocean. The front of the home had a porch that ran the length of the house. Other than a small arching overhang above the door, it was otherwise uncovered, including the stairs.
I climbed out of the car, calling over, “You don’t have to shovel.”
Sasha glanced up, casting me a quick smile. “It’s the least I can do. I don’t mind shoveling.”
Reaching the bottom step, she quickly scooped off the last bit of snow and then walked toward my car. “Do you need help?”
She stopped in front of me, and I glanced down. Her down jacket was unzipped, revealing a denim button-down shirt over her tank top. Her breasts rose and fell with every breath she took. My hands itched to touch her. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail with loose tendrils framing her face. Without thinking, I lifted a hand and brushed a few wayward locks out of the way, tucking them behind her ear. The pull to dip my head and kiss her was so strong that it took an act of sheer will not to do it.
Her eyes held mine under the bright winter sun. I thought I saw an answering flare of desire in her gaze. “What did you get?”
It took me a moment to gather my focus. “Some more stuff for the kitchen. I actually contemplated getting some furniture, but then I decided I didn’t want to take on that project today. I also got us more groceries.”
“I can reimburse you,” she said.
“No.”
She let out a huff of a laugh. “No?”
“That’s right. No.”
She pursed her lips. “I’ll reimburse Thea then.”
“My sister’s not going to take money from you.”
Sasha cuffed me lightly on the shoulder as she turned away and propped the shovel against the railing on the stairs. Of course, my eyes went right to her bottom. She was not short on curves. If I thought her jeans did her sweet body justice, her fleece leggings were even worse, outlining every inch of her generous hips.
