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He chuckles when I swiftly move my eyes back to the cartoon on the television. He wasn’t joking about the chemistry between the two of us. It’s damn near tangible in the room even when I’m not glancing at the spot where he took me on the floor yesterday.
“We should leave the house,” Brent says. “Go grab some board games or cards or something.”
“I love Go Fish!” Ryder says, his voice full of enthusiasm at the suggestion of doing anything other than sitting and watching television.
“Let’s do it,” Brent says, and Ryder bolts for the bedroom to find his shoes.
He must have noticed the strained look on my face because he steps in close to me, crooking a finger under my chin so I’m seeing his full face.
“I’m going to save you the argument before you even open that delectable mouth of yours. I’ll not only be paying for lunch, but whatever purchases are made at any store we go to.” He presses a finger to my lips before I can argue. “I’m not trying to buy your nor his affection, and it doesn’t come with any expectations.”
I mumble against his finger, my words undecipherable with his hand there.
I pause a few seconds longer after he pulls it away.
“You can’t use your Cerberus credit card to buy toys.”
He presses a brief kiss to my lips, stepping back when he hears Ryder coming back down the hallway.
“My debit card from my personal account arrived yesterday.” He winks at me before turning toward Ryder. “All set?”
My son nods, his smile wide and bright. Since I want to keep it there, I’m going to do just as Brent told me and keep my mouth shut. I don’t want him to be disappointed when he sees something at Target and is told he can’t have it. What Brent also doesn’t understand is that Ryder isn’t the kind of kid who begs for things. If anything, Ryder will have to list the reasons why it’s a good idea to buy something before he agrees. I know it stems from when he was younger and how many times I had to tell him we didn’t have the money for something. It’s just one more thing on a long list of stuff I feel guilty about.
“Are you driving?” Brent asks Ryder, making him freeze with his hand on the front door.
My son grins like he’s considering the possibilities.
“You have to be seven to drive,” I say and shake my head at the man as we file out of the house.
***
“This is Minecraft, too,” Brent says, a huge smile on his face as he holds up the puzzle.
Ryder nods, another one of those perfect smiles on his face.
As much as I thought the kid would argue about spending money, he eased into it pretty quickly.
I take another deep breath, something I’ve been doing for the last hour, as we walk through the toy section. The shopping cart is full of games, coloring books, decks of cards, and now he’s adding puzzles to the pile.
If it weren’t for Ryder’s excitement, I would’ve shut it down before now. This haul is looking more like an expensive Christmas than a way to cure a little rainy-day boredom.
“I think we have enough to fill the rest of the afternoon, don’t you?” I ask, giving Brent a look that says he’s pushing the limit.
He nods at me, and I want to breathe a sigh of relief, but before I can manage it…
“Now we need to head to the other side for snacks,” he tells Ryder who immediately asks for Swedish Fish.
I follow along, a smile of my own tugging up the corners of my mouth as Ryder skips along in front of the cart.
Brent’s hand is warm on my lower back as he leans in a little closer and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Thank you for letting me do this.”
“It’s too much,” I whisper.
“It’s just the right amount,” he counters before speeding up so he can talk with Ryder about whether or not he likes movie butter or extreme butter popcorn.
I grip the shopping cart handle tighter, my eyes roaming down the muscles pressing against his t-shirt and even lower to that tight-as-hell ass of his. The man may have had some weakness in his body from lying still for a month, but he has bounced back quickly.
I don’t know whether to feel lucky or guilty that he seems to have attached himself to me. I guess the reason he’s done it would determine that.
He flirted with me before he knew the details of my situation. He didn’t immediately tell me everything was fine after that first visit with Mrs. Brunello, and he should know after yesterday that he doesn’t have to be nice to my son to get me on my back.
