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Not that I’d want him to lose his job, but just knowing that he’d actually put me first. He’d value our relationship more than anything else.
So, we spend a few torturous months stealing moments together, spending weekends alone when Kevin has the kids, and trying to do our best to keep our hands off each other when we need to. It’s hard, but it also feels a bit scandalous and hot.
I focus on my business, and by the time a few more months have passed, I’m making a pretty steady income. Not much, but enough to make ends meet. The business is growing, though, and I pour my heart into it. I love being my own boss. I love helping other women feel better about themselves. And most of all, I love that I did this.
From January till June, I feel like I’m going to burst—but the time is welcome, and it lets me broach the subject of me and Mac with the kids. It gives me time to make sure they’re okay with me dating, they’re adjusting well, and they won’t freak out when Mac does start showing up at home.
On the last day of school, Toby and Katie come home high on life, happy to be done with another year, and I ask them if they’d be okay with a friend of mine coming to dinner.
We’re in the living room as Katie greets Mr. Fuzzles. Toby flops down on the sofa and frowns. “What kind of friend?”
I take a deep breath. “A special friend.”
“Your boyfriend?” Katie asks, eyes wide. Mr. Fuzzles hops onto her lap, curling into a ball on top of her.
My heart thumps. I’ve spent months getting ready for this conversation, but it still feels so, so difficult. I nod at my daughter. “Yeah. My boyfriend.”
She exchanges a glance with her brother, then looks at me. “What’s his name?”
“Well, that’s the thing.” I bite my lip and let out a little awkward laugh. “It’s Mr. Blair. Mac.”
Katie’s brows draw close together, that wrinkle in her nose on full display. “Your boyfriend is my teacher?” She glances at her brother, then bursts out laughing. She picks up Mr. Fuzzles and lifts him up so the cat’s face is in line with hers. “Did you hear that, kitty? Mommy and Mr. Blair are dating.”
Mr. Fuzzles flicks his tail, and Katie glances at me. “He says it’s okay with him.”
Toby snorts and rolls his eyes.
I sit next to him. “If you don’t want him to come over for dinner, it’s okay, honey. He doesn’t have to.” The words are hard to say, because all I want is for my kids to spend time with Mac. After all these months, I want him to be part of my life—part of all of it. Not just weekends alone, or a few hours when Mom is watching the kids. I want him to be welcome here, and hopefully, eventually, sleep over.
Toby just pushes himself up and gives me a little grin. “It’s fine, Mom. Just don’t like, kiss him or anything gross like that.”
I let out a little laugh. “I’ll try not to.”
“I like Mr. Blair. I’m glad he’s coming over,” Katie announces, putting the cat down and standing up. She looks at me. “I’m hungry.”
Heart brimming, I stand up. “Let’s get you some food then.”
A few hours later, after coaxing my mother to spend the evening with her girlfriends, the doorbell rings. Toby changed into a button-down shirt and combed his hair. Katie put a dress on. Neither of them was asked to do this, and seeing them peer down the hallway toward the door makes my lips curl into a smile.
I open the door to see Mac on the doorstep, all jeans, motorcycle boots, and leather, and everything inside me softens.
“Hey,” he says, a question in his eyes.
“Hi,” I answer, then open the door wider so he can step through. “Come in.”
His shoulders drop, and a smile tilts his lips. “The kids were okay with me coming over, then?”
“Hi Mr. Blair!” Katie screams from down the hall. She comes tearing around the corner. “Mommy and I made cookies for you just now. They’re in the oven.”
“Is that your motorcycle?” Toby says, eyes wide. “Can I ride it?”
“Absolutely not,” I answer, while Mac says, “Sure, as long as your legs can reach the foot pegs.”
I glare at him, and Mac laughs. He looks at Toby. “We might have to work on your mom for a bit before she says yes.”
“Work on me, huh,” I say, closing the door behind him. Suddenly this dinner doesn’t seem like such a great idea.
Mac grins as he kicks off his motorcycle boots, and my heart seizes at the sight of them next to all our shoes. They belong there, I realize. Just like he belongs here. With me—with us.
